In Illinois, the mudpuppy is officially classified as threatened. Many of the riverine habitats it once enjoyed have been polluted or altered to such an extent that the mudpuppy cannot withstand the environment. However, oddly enough, it is found in large lakes that too are known for their not-so-polished reputation. In Lake Michigan, they are occasionally caught by bewildered fishermen who have no idea what to make of these "fish with legs". Reports from anglers at urban docks and piers, including Navy Pier, claim the capture of mudpuppies on baited fish hooks from time to time. And maybe even more surprising is the prosperity of the mudpuppy in Wolf Lake, a small lake that straddles the Illinois/Indiana border.
Wolf Lake was once a pristine lake surrounded by lush wetlands, connected to Lake Michigan by an open channel. Early natural historian Donald Culross Peattie once referred to Wolf Lake as "...a famous hunting ground for aquatic wildlife...where the plants form one of the most remarkable assemblages of aquatics in the country...no body of water of equal size can boast such a list". Around the time of the Industrial Revolution, people began taking advantage of the lake for economical purposes. Wetlands surrounding the lake were filled in with tons of slag and on those sites now sit various industrial facilities. The lake itself has been separated into five sections by dikes, mostly on the Illinois side of the lake. Railroad tracks and roads (and Interstate 90) cut across the lake from all angles. The water level has changed dramatically as a result of the removal of beaver dams. The water, though deceptively clear from the filtering actions of the invasive zebra mussel (Dreissena polymorpha), has suffered years of relentless abuse at the hands of heavy industry. Friend and author Joel Greenberg, in his fantastic A Natural History of the Chicago Region, wrote, "The Calumet area (which surrounds Wolf Lake) has experienced every abuse that a wealthy society can subject to a small surface of the earth except significant radiation exposure and warfare...Concentrated in such a confined and biologically important area, the consequences are apparent. A detailed account of what happened here would fill volumes, and even then it would be incomplete, for much went unrecorded."
Overall, the lake is a shadow of its former glorious self. Still, somehow, it manages to support rare or uncommon animals including lake sturgeon (Acipenser fulvescens), Iowa darter (Etheostoma exile), and of course the common mudpuppy. Explanations for the continued success of so many species in and around the lake range from the "cleansing" actions of factories as they take in water for cooling purposes, clean it, and feed it back, to the separation of the lake into various smaller sections, which may act to contain various pollutants, leaving other sections less affected. Whatever the case, Wolf Lake has been called, "the lake that won't die". It remains a biodiverse hotspot - one of the best in the state - as its waters gently lap the shore under a horizon teeming with factory smokestacks belching refuse into the air.
Alicia Beattie, a graduate student at Southern Illinois University, is researching Wolf Lake's mudpuppies. Over the last year, she's collected a ton of data for her project - information that will ultimately serve as the foundation for the Shedd Aquarium's research (The Shedd is supporting Alicia and will resume research once she's completed her project). There haven't been any detailed studies of Chicago's mudpuppies until now. We know they are in Wolf Lake, but previously, we didn't know much, if anything, about their population density, diet, growth rate, habitat preference, etc. Having all of this information is going to give us a good idea about how the mudpuppies - and the lake - are doing, and what we can do moving forward to further protect the slimy benthic beasts.
I jumped at the opportunity to help conduct a survey of the mudpuppies at Wolf Lake. On December 5th, I met with Matt & Shannon Bordeaux, Alicia, Matthew Renik, and others to set up modified minnow traps in order to catch the mudpuppies. We assembled fifty traps using minnows in a mesh bag as bait in one location, and about fifty more spread around in two other nearby locations. I'm not going to lie, it was hard work. The temperature was below freezing when we arrived early in the morning. There was a thick, ominous fog across the lake, eerily meshing with the smoke coming off the nearby smokestacks. As excited as I was to be wearing chest waders and thinking about getting out into the icy water to look for mudpuppies, the mood felt slightly somber. I think it was because as a field herper, I expect a field herping outing to include warm weather. I am NOT a cold weather guy. The short, cold, dark days of December are typically accompanied by impatience as I sift through my readings, hoping that the mild days of spring arrive sooner than later. Winter is a pretty depressing time for this guy. I'm ectothermic. I have a hard time functioning in cold weather.
To my elation, the sun eventually poked through the hazy clouds and uplifted my soul, even though it meant the insulation provided by the clouds was gone and the temperatures remained cold throughout the day. Soon we were out in the frigid water, up to our waists (or deeper), securing traps to submerged rocks using rope. I realized early on, that the waders provided to me were leaky. The water slowly seeped in on the right side, until it filled up to my waist and spilled over into the left side. Then, I managed to get water into my gloves when I reached down to pick up rocks that were too deep. All of this made for a, um, challenging survey. I tried not to whine about it because I didn't want to slow things down, and because I didn't want to look like a baby. So for seven hours, I was a human slushy, net in hand, flipping rocks and trying not to slip on big, slimy boulders. It's funny how much dexterity is lost when your core temperature drops!
In spite of all the technical difficulties, the day was a blast. After we painstakingly set up all of the traps (to be checked by other team members in the following days), we tried to dip-net mudpuppies. Ultimately, we ended up catching three, the third being #100 for the study. Alicia took measurements, collected stomach contents, and PIT-tagged the mudpuppies before we released them in the exact spot they were found. We also collected environmental data - length from shore, size and dimensions of rock each mudpuppy was found under, etc. The extent of my condition wasn't fully realized until the end, when I removed the waders and poured all the water out of them. I rang my socks out, put my shoes back on, and headed home to thaw after a full day of mudpuppy action.
It was early. It was cold. I don't drink coffee. Nuff said. Matt Bordeaux (on left) and me. Photo by Shannon.
The stuff.
The cavalry has arrived...
"If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere" -Vincent van Gogh
Matthew Renick doing stuff with a rock and rope.
One of three mudpuppies.
Another...
Alicia swabbing a mudpuppy.
Before the mudpuppies were released, Alicia took a shot of all three for her own personal record. We broke the 100-mark, and that was quite a feat.
And with that, the 2015 season came to an end. It was, without a doubt, the best herping year yet. Now that I'm all caught up with this, I can forget about posting stuff until next time - until then!
This is an awesome post! Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete- Alicia Beattie
Thanks Alicia!
ReplyDelete