Orchid Hunting in the Maine Wilderness: A Journey to Find the Rare White Moccasin Flower

Orchid hunting typically conjures images of steamy jungles, not Maine forests. Yet some native North American orchids must be sought in their wild habitats because garden cultivation proves difficult and often unsuccessful. Only by observing them in nature can one fully appreciate their beauty, understand their struggle for survival, and gather clues for successful cultivation in a wildflower garden.

Our expedition began with a request to locate stands of the white moccasin flower, Cypripedium acaule albiflorum. The pink form, C. acaule, is common, but the white variant is a true treasure. When Philip D. Phair invited me to an area in his home state of Maine where white moccasin flowers outnumbered pink ones, I eagerly accepted, bringing along a fellow native orchid enthusiast.

We departed Cleveland on June 11, 1999, bound for Aroostook County in northeastern Maine—vast territory where many wild orchids still thrive.

First Sightings Along the Way

Wild orchids rarely reveal themselves from highways unless guided by someone who knows their habitats. In New England, we scarcely expected roadside sightings, yet we spotted pink C. acaule along New Hampshire roads and the large yellow lady's slipper, Cypripedium calceolus pubescens, near a Maine hog farm. In Tamworth, New Hampshire, pink acaule appeared in numbers—the largest "slippers" we'd ever seen, with foot-long stems ranging from dark to light pink. But none were white.

Our first glimpse of the white moccasin flower came unexpectedly at breakfast—it stood in a vase on a dining room table.

At the Phair Homestead

Mr. and Mrs. Phair welcomed us warmly. Mr. Phair's knowledge of native orchids was exceptional, and his garden held several species, including the white moccasin flower. I'd never seen a finer, larger group of yellow lady's slippers than those growing near their house—hundreds displaying the species' characteristic variation in shape and size.

The Hunt Begins

Next morning we sought Calypso bulbosa (borealis), which I'd never seen. Mr. Phair found a few plants hiding so successfully in moss that I'd have missed them entirely—hence my nickname for it: "Hider of the North." The flowers were at their peak. Another bog yielded many delicate pink Arethusa bulbosa specimens.

In a logged forest, beside a lichen-covered log, we discovered a pure white moccasin flower—its paired leaves hugging the ground, blossom borne on a naked scape about eight inches tall. The old log provided a perfect backdrop. Several smaller, not-yet-blooming plants grew nearby.

We also found one of the rarest orchids: the small round-leaf orchis, Orchis rotundifolia, an exceptional find. Calypso is also rare in the U.S., though plentiful in parts of Alaska and the Arctic Circle. How such a delicate plant arising from a small corm survives intense northern cold remains a mystery only Mother Nature can answer.

Deep into the 10,000-Acre Forest

Mr. Phair secured permission to explore a 10,000-acre forest. We drove as far as possible, then hiked three to four miles with a guide and a young man carrying supplies to a log cabin camp. The logging trail was boggy, often leading through water holes we had to circumvent.

The trail led us to white moccasin flowers—no solar garden lights to guide our path, just nature's markers. We found blooms ranging from dark pink through lighter shades to pure white, with white forms more plentiful than pink. Evolution or mutation had visibly touched Cypripedium acaule. We cut blooms showing all color gradations, arranged them from dark pink to white, and photographed the series.

Entering the cabin, we found a container of freshly cut white slippers on the table, left by previous occupants. Behind the cabin, pink and white types grew close to the building alongside a blooming Clintonia—their placement suggested transplanting, a clue to successful cultivation when conditions suit. Typical reports on transplanting C. acaule are discouraging: plants may bloom the next year, emerge without blooming the second year, and vanish the third.

The next day we retraced our route, straying to discover more orchids: early coral root (Corallorrhiza trifida) and large round-leaved orchid (Habenaria orbiculata)—neither showy but botanically fascinating.

We had traced the white moccasin flower to its lair in the cold, wet north, experiencing the joy of a successful hunt and the warmth of new friendships forged through a shared passion for orchids.

Growing Native Orchids

Witnessing wild orchids in their native habitat inspires the desire to grow them in wildflower gardens. This is possible with some species if suitable soil and environmental conditions can be simulated. I've cultivated several in my own garden and seen other successful instances. The cypripediums are most desirable, but habenarias like H. fimbriata also make beautiful additions.

Important: Never take wild orchids from private land without permission—the owner may cherish them as much as you. Obtain plants from reputable sellers who collect from abundant populations or from areas slated for development where plants would be destroyed. Efforts should focus on growing native orchids from seed to multiply them.

Large Yellow Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium calceolus pubescens)

One of the most beautiful lady's slippers and the most successfully cultivated. Best planting time is autumn, after dormancy.

Moccasin Flowers (Cypripedium acaule and C. acaule albiflorum)

The most beautiful lady's slippers but the most difficult to transplant. They grow in deep sphagnum bogs or on pine-covered hillsides. Highly acidic soil is essential, and great care must be taken to avoid root damage—yet even that doesn't guarantee success. Moderate shade is needed, but temperature isn't critical (found from North Carolina to near the Arctic Circle). Unless ideal conditions can be provided, enjoy them in nature rather than risk moving them to a less suitable garden location.

Queen's Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium reginae)

Less difficult to transplant. I've had it bloom beautifully in my garden for years. Usually found in damp, boggy locations—create an artificial bog for cultivation. One method: bury an old bathtub with the drain open, fill with neutral soil. Natural boggy locations offer the best conditions.

Habenarias

Species like the beautiful H. fimbriata (purple fringed orchid, with spikes of fringed deep pink flowers; pure white forms also exist) can be transplanted and grown successfully in good soil and partial shade.

Pot Culture

I've grown several species as pot plants: potting in autumn, placing in a cold frame until well-rooted, then moving to a cool greenhouse location as with bulbs. They bloom quickly, flowers lasting weeks. Cypripediums are ideal for this; after flowering, grow on in pots until matured, then move outside the following spring.

Every effort should be made to perpetuate native orchids and prevent extinction. Draining swamps, clearing forests, and cultivating land rapidly reduce their numbers. Plantings in parks and seed propagation are vital. When picking flowers, leave leaves on the plant to mature the root and ensure next year's growth.