Arizona: Rocky Trails & Blacktails

 I returned to southeast Arizona on September 7th to meet with my friends John and Kathie Murphy and of course to once again experience the splendor of the Sonoran Desert.  The seasonal monsoon was in full effect at the time I booked so I figured this was going to be a phenomenal trip in terms of amphibian and reptile activity.  However, shortly after my booking, the rain stopped and the temperature soared.  For weeks.  Upon my arrival, I could tell that the desert was not nearly as luxuriant as it appeared in 2021.  Every single wash was bone dry.  A few ravens hung around here and there but overall it seemed like most everything else was holed up, awaiting prosperous times.

With time and hard work, though, one can still churn up a few finds.  The desert wildlife is amazingly resilient.  And since I know very little about the desert and its ways, having John there to help guide me along was crucial.  As it turned out, immediately before I arrived in Arizona, John was roped in to help organize a bioblitz held by the University of Arizona.  This bioblitz would cover a portion of the Santa Rita Experimental Range (SRER) as well as a few surrounding areas.  In all honesty, I was not thrilled about the idea, as I prefer a more intimate experience with wilderness.  But, I thought about how having more sets of eyes might produce more finds, and figured that I could capitalize on that. 

The bioblitz didn’t kick off until Friday, so I had most of Thursday to explore unconditionally. John and I first made our way up to the SRER research station to drop off some materials for the bioblitz. While in the vicinity, we hiked a couple of dry washes and I flipped a few rocks.  It was well over 100 degrees.  I found a couple of examples of what I think may be Chihuahuanus coahuilae, or the lesser stripetail scorpion.

John wanted to photograph some Great Plains skinks (Plestiodon obsoletus) and knew a spot nearby.  Not far from where we parked, I noticed a freshly-shed snake skin woven through the short dry grass.  I inspected it with John and we agreed that based on its location and appearance it had  probably been cast by a Sonoran whipsnake (Masticophis bilineatus).  We continued our hike, and no more than two minutes later I was greeted with the sight of a beautiful, brilliant whipsnake about the same size as the skin.  It had been on the hunt for lizards when we walked up on it, and froze long enough for a few quick cell phone shots.  Then, it quickly and silently vanished up into the hillside vegetation.  We didn’t find any skinks, but the spiny lizards were out in full force.

Clark's spiny lizard (Sceloporus clarkii)

Another up a tree

Sonoran whipsnake

Later that night, John and I hit the road.  This is about when it became clear that conditions were not going to be particularly favorable for herps.  We cruised two western diamondback rattlesnakes (Crotalus atrox), the first being the largest I have ever seen.  Unfortunately, in my rush to get it off of the road I did not get a photo.  We were not quite out of town yet and there was too much traffic to pause and admire the animal.

Neonate atrox with photobombing moth

Shortly afterward, I spotted this young longnose snake (Rhinocheilus lecontei) crossing the road.  I’m convinced that we saved this little guy’s life.  Most of the snakes we see on the road in Arizona are already dead, sadly.

And speaking of dead snakes, there were two dead hatchling gopher snakes (Pituophis catenifer) on the road that night.  The third one was alive, and yes, I did verbally scold it for being on the road and instructed it to never crawl on a road again.  These are common snakes and I’d prefer it to stay that way.

Toward the end of that first night, we pulled off the road into a remote makeshift staging area for construction equipment.  John often sees snakes here so we parked, got out, and looked around for a few minutes.  A set of oncoming headlights gave us a pause for concern although John didn’t seem too phased.  We got back into the Jeep when the car pulled alongside us and stopped, giving the driver ample view of the rear of the Jeep.

“Can I help you?” John kindly asked, his head hanging out of the window.

In a shrewish, trembling voice, the white, middle-aged, and statistically privileged woman replied, “I’m taking down your license plate number.”  At that point, John and I knew we had found the ubiquitous Karen (Homo sapiens kareni), which is commonly encountered in restaurants, fudge shops, and especially the internet, where it spends much of its existence complaining and unhappy about anything that threatens its high standard of living.  We left, knowing that this subspecies can be very confrontational, but not before we black-lit a few nice scorpions.

Go away, Karen

One of several (maybe) Parajaejovis confucius

We had some time to kill the following morning before the bioblitz kicked off, so John and I headed to a rattlesnake hotspot about an hour and a half from the research station.  Wedged deep in a rock pile, John spotted a large adult blacktail rattlesnake (Crotalus mollosus) that was kind enough to let us photograph it (we never touched it, only photographed it from a distance).  Further down the rock pile, John spotted a rock rattlesnake (Crotalus lepidus) and it too showed us some southern hospitality.  Near the rock rattler, another rattler was heard buzzing its tail but neither John nor I could see the snake.  We figured it was completely concealed in the rocks but knew we were present.  So it was probably another lepidus but I suppose it could have been a neonate mollosus.

Another Clark's spiny lizard

A greater earless lizard (Cophosaurus texanus)

We poked around a bit more and met with a local site caretaker who told us to “take all the snakes with you” before heading back to the field station for the bioblitz.  Participants were primarily U of A students as well as team leaders.  After splitting into groups, we headed out into the early evening desert.  John led the herp group, driving with me in his Jeep with two vehicles in tow - a film crew, and a van with about fifteen students.  We headed up a rough road through a local canyon and cruised up a nice ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus).  Everyone got out to see and hold the snake.  There were people here who had never touched a snake in their lives so it was a positive introduction to snakes.  Around this time, I noticed that the van was making some awful sounds.  The driver confirmed that the van was having some issues.  As we continued through the canyon, the van would often lag far behind. 

Orientation

One of several canyon treefrogs (Hyla arenicolor) hanging around a cattle tank

One of those really long western ringers

Now dark, John and I rolled up on a rare sight - in our headlights, a grey fox predating upon an adult blacktail rattlesnake.  We quickly stopped and watched the nervous fox thrashing the snake about like a limp rope.  As John hustled to find his camera, the fox began to drag the snake off of the road.  I got out and carefully approached, which temporarily spooked the fox.  The snake was certainly dead, with devastating injuries to what was once its head, but was still moving around a little.  As the sputtering van approached, the intense light of three sets of headlights and over a dozen flashlights scared the fox off down the road.  John tried to get everyone to stay quiet and turn their lights off, but you can’t really expect a group of college students to obey instructions like that.  They gawked at the gory spectacle and who knows how many photos were taken.  The van driver decided to return the van and the group of students back to the field station, but one of the students really wanted to continue on with us in the Jeep.  Malachai hopped in the back as we headed deeper into the pitch black canyon while the others, including the film crew, turned around and headed west.

Within the next couple of hours we would come across two additional blacktail rattlesnakes, fortunately both alive and well.  As these were all my first blacktails, I was really surprised at how tractable they were.  None ever offered to rattle or act defensively in any way.  With my hook, I manipulated the snakes to move them off of the roads without an iota of protest.  Quite the departure from the world of the diamondback.

Malachai and John with a blacktail

Defensive Arizona blonde tarantula (Aphonopelma chalcodes) on the road

The evening was becoming painfully slow despite perfect temperatures.  It was simply too dry.  We were all pretty tired, so we met up with the group at the field station.  On the way, we passed a broken down van on the side of the road.  Ope, the van had thrown in the towel.  It turns out that the students were “rescued” by one of the organizers of the bioblitz, which was good.  The field station was buzzing with activity, quite literally - a moth sheet had attracted thousands of moths, beetles, and other flying insects like I had never seen in my life.  A small group of students emerged from the darkness with a lyre snake (Trimorphodon bisctatus) captured onsite.  I regret not getting good photos, but there was a lot going on.  

The bioblitz organizers wanted us to return at 5:30 AM (?!?!?!) the following morning.  Ughhhhhhhhh.  So we did - and as I expected, only one student of the entire group was awake.  Hey, I was 20 once.  We began our hikes about an hour later with a limited group of students, but this time nobody wanted to join the cool club (herps).  Plants were all the rage early that Saturday morning so John and I hiked a road on our own, peering at large boulders and flipping stones to no avail.  Aside from a couple of lizards, it was pretty dead.  The sun came out in full strength and the energy was sucked right out of us.  We trudged back to the station, where we imbibed; water, and lots of it, was an absolute must.  The site director motioned to a small group of really old, dilapidated equipment sheds where he often sees Madrean alligator lizards (Elgaria kingii).  He told me that I could poke around them, so with a hook in hand I entered the first building.  It was dry and dusty, full of old rolls of chain link fence, dirty buckets, unused electrical conduit strewn about, and lots of signs.  There were rodents droppings everywhere.  Lifting a dry-rotted pile of plastic tarp produced a panicked packrat.  I couldn’t imagine an alligator lizard living inside here or in any of the old old structures, so I traced the exterior of each building, lifting cover and using my hook to turn leaves in hopes of seeing something.  But again, it was now late morning and the temperature was nearing 108.  Conceding defeat was made a little easier when I realized that I was the only one actually pursuing species.  Everyone else was cooling off in the shade.

John taking the lead

Canyon treefrog 

Paravaejovis confusus?

This resident turkey fearlessly hung around the research station for the duration of the event.  One employee says it's been in the area for months.

Me too, spider.  Me too.

After a late lunch, the organizers pulled the plug on the bioblitz out of concern for those involved.  We all got to leave a little early.  John and I returned to his house, where we rendezvoused with Kathie before going out to dinner.  That evening, we could have road cruised once more.  We could have had the night desert air blow through our hair. We could have discovered a species new to us (or me).  But instead, we stayed home and watched the new Indiana Jones movie.  And it was just fine.  I had a very early flight out of Phoenix the next morning so it all just made sense.  

Now if only Indy would take a liking to snakes...