Throughout my time in school, I’ve been told over and over again that I must focus. I need to find a specific field, become an expert in that, and once I do that I will have the freedom to branch out and add other topics to my work or research should I choose to. To me that sounds like a time-costly and expensive way to actually get to a place where I can make a difference. And in reality, lasting solutions to global problems are always going to require interdisciplinary collaboration.

I also struggled because I didn’t know how to pick one discipline, I was interested in so many. Even as a biology major, which seemed like a step towards a focused path, I was torn between biomedically focused biology and environmentally focused ecology tracks. I did undergraduate research and wrote an honors thesis on respiratory physiology of animal models, and also studied abroad in the Galapagos and Tanzania, where I studied wildlife conservation and associated politics.

When COVID-19 struck after my college graduation, I took on two remote internships concurrently. The first was for a science non-profit aimed at addressing global antimicrobial resistance while also encouraging children from underrepresented communities to consider careers in STEM and medicine. The second was for a wild orangutan research project in Indonesia, working on conserving rainforests and protecting orangutans. At the time it seemed like I was traveling down two opposite science career paths simultaneously, either to become a public health professional or a primatologist. I now realize though that those two fields actually have quite a lot in common, and would probably benefit from more collaboration.

My M.S. degree is in Conservation Medicine, a field that operates under the “One Health” principle that human, animal, and environmental health are all inextricably connected. Within this program we were taught that a true solution to any global health issue requires understanding of all three aspects to be successful long term. Zoonotic diseases (diseases that travel between humans and other species), as an example, make up the majority of public health concerns globally. Examples of zoonotic diseases include COVID-19, Anthrax, Ebola, Rabies, and Bovine spongiform encephalopathy (Mad Cow Disease). To manage or prevent a zoonotic outbreak requires intense interdisciplinary collaboration. This means a medical understanding of the human immune system, zoological understanding of the carrier species, understanding of how the human and other species both interact in the same environment, and how to change that environment to prevent the disease without somehow causing an outbreak in a different one. It also includes public relations and health campaigns, public policy, education, and understanding cultural norms in the area of the outbreak. In situations like this, people who understand animals, humans, policy, and the environment are extra useful. This One Health approach to problem solving also applies to issues like human wildlife conflict, ocean conservation, waste management and plastic reduction, and sustainable food systems.

My Scientists in Parks Fellowship was exciting because although I was working on three different topics (invasive plant management, federally threatened plant monitoring, and wildlife monitoring), they were connected by the use of GIS. I was able to practice and refine my mapping software and data management skills, while also collaborating with wildlife biologists, botanists, rare plant specialists, boaters, community volunteers, and non-profit coordinators. Each of the projects I worked on would not have been possible if only the specific biology specialists had been involved. It was clear that interdisciplinary collaboration and communication is key to the success in conservation and natural resource management. However, I also observed that not many jobs listed in the National Park system clearly search for interdisciplinary candidates.

Because I haven’t really “chosen a path” yet, I have a very broad range of experience and can talk at length about a lot of topics. From Scientists in Parks I could tell you all about dispersion of bighorn sheep along the canyon corridors in the monument and why understanding their genetics is important, the process of monitoring Spiranthes diluvialis, the tresses-orchid that is federally threatened and important in protecting the riparian zones, and the devastating impacts of leafy spurge in the Northern Great Plains region and the complications with managing it near Dinosaur.

From my Conservation Medicine program I could tell you at length about agricultural desertification, soil health, and threats to global food security, the sustainability and nutritional value of adopting insects as a protein source, hyena-livestock conflict in the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem, the impacts of microplastic on the fertility of ocean megafauna and the complexities of recycling, anthrax as a zoonotic disease threat in both Siberia and in central West Africa, and the political complications of grey wolf reintroduction in Colorado.

I have working knowledge of Swahili, and Spanish, as well as enough Bahasa to work in a wildlife research position in Indonesia. I’ve also worked as an Emergency Medical Technician in Maine and performed necropsies on dead manatees in Florida. I am proficient with data visualization software like ESRI ArcGIS and ENVI, and I can pilot drones for data collection.

While I’m consistently told that this spectrum of topics in my experience is a detriment because it doesn’t show focus, I will continue in this manner and view it as a strength. I also think all students should be encouraged to branch out and get experience outside of their chosen path. I want to be part of large scale solutions to climate issues, and for that I know that a multifaceted mindset will be an advantage and make my contributions more valuable. I appreciated my fellowship because I started to see the practical uses of my broad experiences, and to learn that GIS and data technology is tool that can span really any discipline.

That said, I also think that all the conservation efforts within the National Parks system could foster more impactful research by encouraging scientists to get experience in humanities, policy, or other areas of science to broaden their understandings of the world and environment that they work in.

I greatly appreciate my time at Dinosaur National Monument and with Scientists in Parks 2021. I encourage anyone hoping to expand their career to apply, even if it is for a project that you are not sure you’ll be interested in or a park you have never heard of. I’m not sure what comes next for me, but if you’re interested in following along or contacting me, I’ve included several links below.

LinkedIn = Mary Buford Turnage, twitter = @marybufordturnage, TikTok = @marybufordx

Soon it will be a month since I began my SIP Fellowship at Dinosaur National Monument, and boy has it been packed with new experiences! I caught an indiscriminate cuckoo bumble bee; gotten up close tours of the both Dinosaur bones in the Quarry Visitor Center and the process of taking a dinosaur bone out of a rock for research or display in a museum; explored the mountain biking scene around Vernal, Utah; and most significantly went on my first river trip.

This was an especially important first because so much of Dinosaur’s landscape, backcountry campsites, and ecosystems revolve around the rivers. Beginning in the 1850s when trappers, prospectors, and settlers unlocked river travel along the Green for business and recreation purposes, and continuing today as one of the most popular tourist attractions at Dinosaur, the history of the Dinosaur National Monument intertwined with whitewater travel and commercial whitewater rafting.

I didn’t really grow up on rivers, and so prior to this summer, could probably count my whitewater experiences on one hand. When I was offered the opportunity to join the river rangers on one of their regular multi-day river trips, I definitely wanted to but was super nervous. What do I wear? What do I bring for food? What would it be like to join a trip of total experts in their field as a beginner? Would I make a fool of myself? What if I was incompetent at whitewater things and didn’t know it? Even with all the assurances from my supervisor and the rangers, I was still pretty intimidated.

THE RIVER TRIP

The purpose of the trip for the rangers was patrol the Green River corridor within the monument to monitor campsite use, safety, and state of natural resources. The purpose of the trip for me was to get acquainted with the area so to better visualize the terrain for my GIS projects. I also went to look for bighorn sheep for the monument’s population monitoring project, which I am working on the GIS component of. The trip had been going on for a day already by the time I joined.

I arrived at Echo Park, which is just after the confluence of the Yampa and Green rivers on the Colorado side of the monument, to meet the boats. There were two rafts on this trip and four people: two rangers, myself, and the acting river program manager, who was there to help monitor the commercial raft companies using the Green river. With one ranger and one passenger in each raft, we headed down the river, stopping occasionally at campsites to inspect for trash and clean up if needed.

After about eleven miles and seven hours, we arrived at Island Park, our campsite for the night. The campsite was a sandy beach on the river bank, surrounded by cottonwood trees, and with views of canyon walls and hills in every direction. We set up our tents and cooked our dinners over camp stoves as it got dark. As it turned out, the lentil soup and rice that I brought for my dinner was almost the same thing that the rangers had both brought for themselves. It was a little thing, but I felt more like I was supposed to be there.

We woke up early the next morning, packed up the boats, and were back on the river by 7:45am. We continued down the river, this time passing over four rapids (Moonshine, SOB, Schoolboy, and Inglesby). The water level is very low right now, which made the rapids less threatening than I’d pictured in my head. We floated about another twelve miles until we arrived at the Split Mountain boat ramp, on the Utah side of the monument, our exit point for the trip. We took unpacked the boats and loaded them onto the back of a truck, and drove back to the Colorado side headquarters to end the trip.

In the end, I didn’t see any bighorn sheep, so I’ll have to save that for next time. I did see a moose, lots of birds, petroglyphs, and learned to recognize several new species of trees and plants. I learned how heavy the oars are, and gained a new level of respect for the rangers that paddle the rafts over sixty miles regularly. I learned that the outdoor skills I do have, even though not from river activities, actually have prepared me to be self sufficient on these river trips. Although I was certainly still a beginner, everyone was very willing to explain things to me and teach me whatever I was curious about.

What’s Next?

It was only a two-day trip, but now I feel way more ready for any other trips that come up this summer and am looking forward to getting back on the river. After the trip during the holiday weekend, I found myself back in a raft, on rivers farther south in Colorado, challenging myself on some larger rapids with a new friend from the monument. I’m still certainly nervous about whitewater but am learning new skills and confidence at the same time that I know will serve me well in this position and hopefully afterwards as well.

Keep following along for more updates from Dinosaur! (twitter = @marybufordturnage, TikTok = @marybufordx)

About a week ago, I moved to Dinosaur National Monument, at the corners of Utah and Colorado, to begin working as a Scientists in Parks (SIP) Fellow. Dinosaur National Monument comprises 211,000 acres in the northern area of the Colorado Plateau. It is characterized by dramatic colorful canyons, its visible array of dinosaur bones and prehistoric petroglyphs, and is the traditional land of the Ute people, therefore having substantial geological, paleontological, and cultural significance.

The canyons are cut by the Yampa River, flowing from the east, and the Green River, flowing from the north, which eventually converge in the park, and ultimately flow south towards the rest of the Colorado Plateau. The Yampa is one of the remaining wild tributaries of the Colorado River system, and the two systems together foster complex river habitats and biological communities, complete with endangered fish and plant species. Wildlife that live here include mountain lions, mule deer, bighorn sheep, elk, and bears, among others, altogether offering unending opportunities for tourism, education, and research.

I am working on three main projects here, mainly based in GIS mapping software, and fieldwork.  The first project is analyzing and summarizing several years-worth of bighorn sheep data, as part of an intensive long-term herd population assessment. This will assist the park in future development and habitat conservation planning.

Secondly, the Yampa River is experiencing an infestation of leafy spurge, an invasive plant that is rampant in agricultural pastures causing significant economic and ecological damages. I am working on mapping leafy spurge infestation and presence of biological control agents (insects that eat leafy spurge) along the river, and on communicating the challenges and successes of the monument’s management plan to the public.

Third, I am working on a method to collect data on the Ute Ladies’ Tress orchid, the park’s only federally listed threatened plant species. Within Dinosaur, Lodore Canyon on the Green River is one of the largest populations of this flower throughout its range. I’m really excited to learn about these species, contribute to these projects, and explore this place more throughout the summer.

If you’re interested, follow along for updates on my maps and more desert pictures . (twitter = @mbufordturnage) (she/her/hers)