Thursday, May 21, 2015

On the Road again: Shawnee April

The herping season often begins in mid or late March in Chicago, with the arrival of various salamanders and frogs.  But in April, a trip down to the Shawnee region of southern Illinois can really whet my appetite for a greater variety of herps, as well as gorgeous landscapes and usually better weather.  Each trip to the region has been memorable for me, as it certainly is for anyone visiting.  I try to visit new areas each time I head down that way - there is simply too much to see in one or two or 10 trips.

I traveled with Aimee this time, and it was going to be her first time ever camping.  She was sort of reluctant to go, but she also is adventurous at heart and thought she'd at least try it out once.  We packed the tent, some supplies, and we were off for three nights along the sandstone cliffs and bottomlands of southern Illinois.  The ride down there was mostly uneventful, save for a near-death experience on the road.  A big rig's tire blew out in front of a car that was in front of us.  It all happened so fast - the strip of rubber somehow hurdled over the car and directly into our path.  There was nowhere to go - swerving to avoid it was not an option with cars all around at at a speed of 70 MPH.  Aimee and I both braced for impact, but fortunately the rubber was too heavy to remain airborne and instead it impacted the front bumper.  The extent of damage wasn't evident until we later pulled over to investigate it.  The front bumper was basically totaled.  Ultimately, it was replaced when we arrived back at home.  We remind ourselves, that it was just a stupid bumper that can be replaced, unlike our lives, so we were quite thankful.

When we arrived in the vicinity of our campground and Snake Road, we drove through small farming communities dotting the Shawnee Hills in Jackson County.  It had rained prior to our arrival, and the sky was overcast and grey.  Perfect conditions for Eastern box turtles (Terrapene carolina carolina) to be out and about.  In fact, a few were, and I stopped to assist them off the road.

 A first for me, this DOR nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus).  These animals have been moving northward from their southern range for a long time now - a belief is that a lack of predators is aiding them.
Finally, at the famous Snake Road!  And what a welcoming party - this large copperhead (Agkistrodon contortrix) was crossing the road outside the gates of the closed-off road.  That meant I had to move it off to the side so that it wouldn't become road bacon.  In my opinion, the copperhead possesses the most cryptically beautiful pattern and colors of all the area's snakes.  Because they are fairly common in many parts of their range, they are often overlooked.  Copperheads love wooded areas and rocky bluffs and ledges.  They are very passive and are not particularly dangerously venomous.  

 

One of the first herps we saw after parking was this green frog (Lithobates clamitans).  Some might actually refer to this frog as a "bronze" frog based on its color and location.  The bronze frog is a controversial subspecies of the green frog.  I tend to lump the two since the differences between the two are rather inconsequential.
 No trip to Snake Road is complete without the official welcoming party - Blanchard's cricket frogs (Acris crepitans blanchrdi).  They are abundant in the region.  They used to be considered the most abundant frog in the state, but they've mysteriously disappeared over a huge swath of northern Illinois.  However, they are slowly beginning to creep back in some areas.  Most visitors to Snake Road are casual fanciers of herptiles and walk right past these guys, but I watch each one and look for odd color distributions.  The one shown here is pretty typically plain.
 Off to the side, I spotted this large southern black racer (Coluber constrictor priapus) foraging atop a pile of dead branches covered in dead grasses.  I actually rushed toward it for the grab, but between the snake's speed and agility and the numerous obstacles in front of me, it was all for naught.  It disappeared quicker than I could even consider the possibility that there could have been venomous snakes where I planned to blindly dash.
 An intergrade ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus).  The range of several subspecies of this small, fossorial snake all converge here, so it is sometimes difficult, if not impossible, to determine what exactly you've got.  
While hiking, I found this blister beetle (family Meloidae) bumbling around along the gravelly road.  Long ago, blister beetles were ground and used for medicinal purposes, but today that practice is mostly discontinued. They are more known today as beetles that can bleed an oil that can cause blisters on your skin.  Hence, our handling of this big-butted bug by stick.
 One of my most heart-warming sights - Snake Road in all of its spring glory.
 A redbelly snake (Storeria occipitomaculata).  I'm good for one or two of these on each trip.
 Another Snake Road mainstay, the western cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus leucostoma).  This was a strongly-patterned juvenile.

 We didn't see too many large adult cottonmouths, but this big brute was found in neighboring Johnson County, on its way from a muddy river, over a tall bank, and toward a flooded forest where frogs were abundant.
 The business end of another big cottonmouth.  This one was in the way of our car as we were exiting a preserve in Johnson County.  I moved it to a ditch on the side of the road.
 We saw a lot of these (what I think are) black tulip fungi (Urnula craterium).
 A female black swallowtail butterfly (Papilio polyxenes).
 Juvenal's duskywing (Erynnis juvenalis).
I paused to take a photo of this nice-looking Fowler's toad (Anaxyrus fowleri).  
As Aimee pointed out, "This is how baby railroad crossings are made".
I found this cave salamander (Eurycea lucifuga) along an active railroad embankment.  These are so fast, and I was so invested in trying to manually focus my macro lens while kneeling on a rocky sloped embankment, that this is the best I could get before this guy scattered off underneath some dead leaves.
 A young five-lined skink (Plestiodon fasciatus), found in almost exactly the same spot I found one of these last fall - under a pile of trash at the side of railroad tracks.
 An OLD Pepsi can in all its rusty glory.
 This eastern garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis) was found off to the side of a "rails to trails" pathway connecting a gravel parking area to a set of active railroad tracks.  Another example of a widespread species and something I'd see at home in Chicago, though the pattern differs slightly.
 We were driving along a very narrow, winding road up to the top of a bluff, when I spotted a familiar lime green ropey-thing in the road ahead.  I slammed on my brakes, but ended up coming to a stop directly over the green thing - a rough green snake (Opheodrys aestivus).  THAT was close.  I took a few pictures, and then placed it into a shrub along the side of the road.

A few minutes later, while still on the winding road, I saw a kinked form ahead.  I knew immediately, what kind of local snake makes the kinky shape - the grey ratsnake (Pantherophis spiloides).  I again got out of the car and picked the gentle serpent up off the road.  What a rush it was to find this snake.  It had a good-sized food bolus (meal in its belly), so I kept handling to a minimum and moved it to woods.  Aimee took the following photos of this handsome snake.


And you wonder why they call this vantage point, Inspiration Point.  There's something about being above soaring turkey vultures as the sun begins to set, while a southwestern breeze brings with it a sense of peace and tranquility.
 A batch of toad (Anaxyrus) larvae feed on a deceased frog (Lithobates) larva in a parking lot puddle.
 The night is this Cope's grey treefrog's (Hyla chrysoscelis) friend.  His home is the inside of this hollow metal signpost at the entrance to Snake Road.
 With the fading sunlight comes an onslaught of mosquitoes.  Still, it's worth looking up at the right moment.
 The next morning, this central newt (Notophthalmus viridescens louisianensis) was one of several seen in the area.
 We met two herpers from Wisconsin on this day, Matt Heeter and Allen Blake Sheldon.  Matt found this great little Midwest worm snake (Carphophis amoenus helenae) underneath a small slab of talus rock.

Matt and Allen checking out the worm snake.
Allen and I photographing the worm snake (thanks Aimee for the picture!)

 Field herping is like a box of chocolates - you never know what you're going to get.  In this case, immediately following the worm snake, one of last year's timber rattlesnakes (Crotalus horridus) made a cameo appearance.  It was found casually crossing the road, and though I took a ton of photos, not many made the cut.  This little snake garnered a lot of attention, with three guys all wanting photos before the snake made it across the road (we really didn't want to stress it out by moving it since it was so young and a little thin).  This little timber rattler is the first "wild" timber I've seen (last years's timber was a long-term captive owned by the IDNR).


 A young southern leopard frog (Lithobates sphenocephalus).
 One more cottonmouth for the trip...
 A big male bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus) looking for his jug-o-rum.
 A really cool red-colored Fowler's toad.
 The last snake of the trip was this most interesting plainbelly water snake (Nerodia erythrogaster).  Interesting, in the sense that it had at some point in its life, sustained a bite or some other serious injury that has since completely healed over.  Perhaps a snapping turtle took a bite.  Whatever the case, the chunk taken out was about one-third the circumference of the snake's mid-body.  The animal was feisty and healthy (and in shed), so I had little compassion but a ton of respect for it.  

 To close out a great trip, this Cope's treefrog which was located by its spotty calls.  It took three seasoned herpers to locate it among the branches and vines of a tree, about seven feet up.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Friendly familiar faces

The day - April 12, 2015.  The places - preserves in northern Cook County.  The goal - well, not a whole lot of rhyme or reason other than to see what herps were active.  Mid-April is a herpetologically-rich time in the region, and before you know it, the herps are out in full force.

One of several beautiful Chicago garter snakes (Thanophis sirtalis "semifasciatus") I observed basking in the late morning sunshine in an area where the woodland canopy opens up.  Of the two species of garter snakes in Chicago, this one seems to prefer forest-edge habitat or savanna.
 A Northern leopard frog (Lithobates pipiens), in a vernal pool located in the woods.  
 I don't often find redbelly snakes (Storeria occipitomaculata) on the crawl.  This was was exiting one flat stone and was heading in the direction of another.

 No doubt the Chicago garters were out looking for food and/or mates.  This big chunker was seen alertly cruising behind a thick wall of impenetrable thorns.
 The sad reality of providing vehicular access to see snakes is that sometimes snakes too use the roads and often end up being run over by cars.  No matter how many times I see dead flattened snakes like this, it hurts a little.
 Ugh, another one.  I include photos of dead on road (DOR) snakes to remind me (and others) to be careful when driving in areas where snakes are found.
A tiger salamander (Ambystoma tigrinum).  I usually find one or two of these at this particular preserve.
 A big male prairie crayfish (Procambarus gracilis).  
At the Trestle, I chased down this big plains garter snake (Thamnophis radix).  I noticed that this population is gradually spreading southward into areas that were once choked with invasive brush and buckthorn but are now being restored.  
 The omnipresent midland brown snake (Storeria dekayi).
 Small whites (Pieris rapae).
 I promise...
 I was lucky enough to get pretty close to this mourning cloak butterfly (Nymphalis antiopa) before it flew off to do whatever it needed to do.


Friday, May 1, 2015

Vernals & vitality

Before I left for my first trip to Pennsylvania on business, I agreed to an outing with Matt Ignoffo to look for spotted salamanders (Ambystoma maculatum) at one of the few places they are still found in Cook County.  However, once I realized I was stuck at the airport in Allentown due to bad weather, I wasn't sure when I'd be home, or if I'd even want to go out in search of these introverted caudates right off a plane.  Informing him of my situation, he assured me we'd get out soon enough, even suggesting that the original plan may be too early anyway.

True to his word, he soon offered an alternative date - April 4th.  I was excited about the prospect of seeing spotteds again, but actually any amphibian would be great.  Until this point in the year, I saw a few snakes, but no amphibians yet.  And herping with Matt Ignoffo is like batting against Cy Young.  He's done his homework and put his time in the field to become as knowledgeable as he is.  He is the one who inspired me to improve my photographic skills.  Whether or not I succeeded in doing that is debatable, but it's got me trying anyway.

Matt, his two young kids, and I spent a few hours around a couple vernal ponds in search of spotted salamanders, but to no avail, even though spotteds have been recorded here and are found rather frequently - IF you know how and when to look.  We just weren't there at the right time.  However, we did find blue-spotted salamanders (Ambystoma laterale) and "Tremblay's" salamanders (Ambystoma "tremblayi"), the latter of which are a polyploid hybrid (specifically, a triploid).  Basically (well, as basic as I can put it), the Tremblay's salamander is a cross between the blue-spotted salamander and the Jefferson's salamander (Ambystoma jeffersonianum).  But it's not simply one species breeding with another species - those pairings don't typically produce a new species.  The Tremblay's salamander is unique is that is contains three sets of chromosomes, two from the blue-spotted salamander and one from the Jefferson's (these hybrid species are often referred to as "JLL", or jeffersonianum/laterale/laterale).  A female JLL salamander (the only sex they come in, as if this wasn't weird enough) has to breed with a male blue-spotted salamander in order to produce young, BUT the male's sperm does NOT fertilize the eggs of the JLL female.  She basically steals his sperm to stimulate egg development.  No genetic information is passed on to the male.  This process, called kleptogenesis (klepto as in kleptomaniac), is only known from a few species.  Tremblay's salamanders are effectively "sexual parasites", since they are taking sperm of blue-spotted salamanders, which a female blue-spotted salamander needs in order to produce eggs, just like the rest of the civilized world.  Another hybrid species, the silvery salamander (Ambystoma platineum, aka JJL), is similar in that it is a triploid, but it contains two sets of chromosomes from the Jefferson's salamander and one from the blue-spotted.  Whew!  This is like the Maury Povich Show of salamanders.

So, how did these crazy hybrid-species-things get here?  Well, they do occur in nature and are widespread.  However, the population in Cook County was introduced from its core range all because of a science project gone wrong.  Back in the 1970s, a professor studying these salamanders ended up releasing some of them into one pond, and over the last forty or so years, the salamanders have spread and now breed in several nearby vernal ponds.  You can still find pure blue-spotted salamanders here, but there are probably more JLL animals here due to their reproductive strategy.  I'm not sure what the future holds for these JLL animals, but for now, at least, they are here, and they are in good number.

Also heard and seen on this outing were lots of spring peepers (Pseudacris crucifer) and a few Western chorus frogs (Pseudacris triseriata).  And of course, in any open woodland during April in the region you're sure to find amorous Chicago garters (Thamnophis sirtalis "semifasciatus") on the prowl.

A Tremblay's (JLL) salamander
 The first garter snake we observed was this massive beast female.  She was the recipient of all kinds of battle scars from years past.  The full extent of her size isn't realized until another adult garter snake is placed next to her.  
 Oh what do we have here?  As I was photographing the female, this adult male enters the frame with love (or maybe lust) in his eyes.
 He quickly traces the outline of her body with his head until he is able to line up his cloaca with hers.
 In this shot, the male has commenced copulation.  This, folks, is how magic happens with garter snake.
Matt introduces his kids to a spring peeper.
One of several spring peepers found hopping alongside a vernal pond.  This particular one inadvertently jumped right into Matt's hand as he knelt down.  
Another shot of the often heard, but seldom seen peeper.
A peeper and a blue-spotted salamander.
Matt's son with a garter snake.  No better way of spending a mild April Saturday.