Schnurr Columbine 2021 〈RECOMMENDED〉

In the summer of 1928, Schnurr was on a collecting expedition near and the Windy Point area. He wasn't looking for a new species; he was cataloging high-altitude flora for the Carnegie Institution. But as he scrambled over a particularly unstable scree field, he spotted a columbine that didn't match any drawing in his field guide.

Charles Schnurr found it once. The Fennimore family found it again. And today, thanks to careful stewardship, this pale, spiky jewel continues to bloom in the cold wind, reminding us that sometimes the rarest things are hiding right where we’ve already looked—if only we look closer. "In the end, it wasn't a grant or an institution that saved it," Margaret Fennimore-Torres says. "It was a family who loved a mystery more than a vacation." Have you seen an unusual high-altitude columbine? Contact the Colorado Native Plant Society at [email protected]. schnurr columbine

They had found the Schnurr Columbine, alive and thriving, in a micro-habitat less than 200 square feet. The rediscovery was kept secret for five years to prevent poaching. Eventually, the Fennimores worked with the U.S. Forest Service to protect the site. Today, the exact location remains undisclosed to the public, though a small interpretive sign at the Pikes Peak Highway overlook mentions the flower's story. In the summer of 1928, Schnurr was on

By J. Peterson

By the 1960s, the Schnurr Columbine was unofficially considered extinct. This is not the end of the story. Enter the Fennimore family of Colorado Springs. David Fennimore, a high school biology teacher, had read Schnurr’s original 1931 paper as a graduate student. He became obsessed. Every summer, he dragged his reluctant wife, Eleanor, and their two teenage children up treacherous slopes with a tattered copy of Schnurr’s hand-drawn map. Charles Schnurr found it once