In the muggy coastal plain of South Carolina remain fragments of untamed bottomland forests and swamps - the kinds that garner age-old tales of dark spirits and fantastic creatures of folklore. At night, these woods are dark and unforgiving. Rabid mosquitoes, huge spiders, appropriately-placed cypress knees and steep, muddy riverbanks are all sure to keep you honest as you forge deeper into the interior in search of venomous snakes and slippery frogs. These places aren’t for the faint of heart. But for a snapshot of what’s left of the Pee Dee region’s primeval wilderness, they are the perfect challenge for the intrepid.
I wanted to visit this area, but before I could do that I had to settle in at a relative’s home in nearby Florence. My family and I were in town for a little over one week and we had no real solid plans, allowing for quite a bit of spontaneity. Days were blazing hot but nights were warm and humid, the air heavy with the songs of calling treefrogs and insects. The backyard of the house we stayed in is what I’d consider to be sterile - unfortunately, a slew of pesticides are used in and around the property. That didn’t stop me from finding a big, healthy rat snake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis) as it crawled through a pile of wooden garden stakes and into a chaotic pile of clutter. After rearranging about a dozen bags of topsoil, I caught this most placid animal and shared the experience with my daughter and her two cousins.
Unfortunately, even though I searched for snakes every day and night, I wouldn’t find any others on the trip. It was bizarre. However, the mainstays of Florence - amphibians, and mostly common ones - never failed to show up. Each night I’d take Lumen for a walk and we would find not only lots of southern toads (Anaxyrus terrestris) but we’d hear squirrel treefrogs (Hyla squirella) calling from the Middle Swamp, a sluggish murky waterway squeezed in between polished newer subdivisions. Green frogs (Rana clamitans) sat atop storm water drains until we approached, when they dropped back down into the drains to disappear. One drain in particular consistently held crystal clear water over a gravelly substrate, and in that water were scores of treefrog tadpoles and southern two-lined salamander (Eurycea cirrigera) larvae.
The neighborhood walks produced lots of other interesting bycatch, including thousands of cockroaches, interesting cicadas, and even a mole cricket that delighted the kids (and me) with its cuteness factor.
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For the second visit in a row, Woods Bay State Park failed to generate herp sightings aside from a single lazy alligator (Alligator mississipiensis), a distant, unidentifiable basking turtle, and the ever-present carpenter frogs (Rana virgatipes). We were, however, able to visit the on-site nature center for the first time (It has always been closed, I think due to lack of funds). Inside is a very simple setup, highlighted by a very large taxidermied alligator. The site ranger was inside and we had a nice chat about the site and some of the recent reptile sightings he was aware of.
Reptile Lagoon, a roadside attraction off of Interstate 95 just south of the border between North and South Carolina, surprised me the most. My experiences with reptile zoos, especially around tourist traps like this one, have mostly left a lot to be desired. And online reviews weren’t particularly convincing. But what an incredible place this turned out to be. Reptile Lagoon is a large, roomy, and clean facility showcasing a great variety of crocodilians as well as snakes (including lots of venomous species from around the world) and other reptiles in thoughtfully planned and visually pleasing enclosures. I think that in today’s increasingly scrutinizing and “woke” culture, you’ve got to step up your game if you wish to operate a sustainable business like this. And Reptile Lagoon does just that. We’ve come a long way from the old-timey roadside attractions that exploited animals in the most unethical ways for profit.
Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia is definitely worth a visit. The reptile house recently underwent a huge overhaul and the collection is impressive.
My family and I hiked the site of the former Florence Stockade early one evening. The Florence Stockade was a Confederate prisoner of war camp that operated for a short time during the Civil War. During its five month operation, as many as 18,000 Union soldiers were imprisoned here, 2800 of whom would never leave alive. You’d never think anything of importance ever happened here today; the site is an overgrown woodland wedged between a few residential areas and a water treatment facility. But today it supports box turtles (Terrapene carolina) as evidenced by a pair of predated eggs I found near the path.
My good friend Dr. Jeff Camper agreed to spend an evening with me out in the bottomlands of the Pee Dee River. The area is accessible only by a seldom-maintained former logging road which brings visitors from civilization to the banks of the murky river. When we arrived, darkness was settling in.
Jeff pushed deeper into the woods along the jagged road, occasionally stopping near areas that seemed promising for redbelly watersnakes (Nerodia erythrogaster). However, despite some recent rain, the bottomlands were pretty dry. At some spots, we’d see southern toads and southern leopard frog (Rana sphenocephela) metamorphs by the dozen.
Insects were abuzz; cicadas and katydids urgently hissed and clicked and I walked through more than one occupied web of the golden silk orb-weaver (unpleasant even for those unafraid of spiders). But the snakes were absent, holed up in protest of the drought. We decided that our best chance at getting some of the watersnakes (I was hoping for the brown watersnake (Nerodia taxispilota) would be to push all the way to the big river. But as we were approximately a quarter mile from the river, we ran into this:
We briefly considered walking the rest of the way, but instead decided to call it a night and head back.
Despite the paucity of herp species, the trip was yet another learning experience and a lot of fun. I love the coastal plain region of the Southeast and I always look forward to the next visit.
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