From Anza Borrego to San Diego

 A few highlights from last week’s trip to southern California.

We flew into San Diego and then drove to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Califoria's largest state park at nearly 586,000 acres.  We stayed in a casita smack in the middle of the Colorado Desert.

We explored the environs a bit.  Among hundreds of rodent burrows, we found this burrow of a young Mojave desert tortoise (Gopherus agassizii)

We enjoyed the remarkable sculptures by artist Ricardo Breceda.  Our favorite was the "snake", actually a sea dragon that is so long (about 350 feet) that it crossed the road (or gives the impression that it does).

Cholla at sunset

Another favorite, a large scorpion (foreshadowing).  

We lucked out big time the following day, as it rained a fair amount. 

Aimee and Lumen on the rocks in between drizzles and dazzling thunder/lightening

A grasshopper with perfect camo

Lots of side-blotched lizards (Uta stanburiana).  Very quick and hard to photograph.

We drove past a single desert iguana (Dipsosaurus dorsalis) crossing the moist road.  One day I'll get a good shot of one!

We pulled over near a scenic overlook and we liked climbing up the rocks to find cacti more than staring at the long range views.

Though the view was great...

Anza-Borrego has its own slot canyon, located off the beaten track in a relatively remote location off of Highway 78.  We arrived just before sunset.  This is the perfect place for adults or children.  Be aware of the many black widows that live down in the canyon.  

Lumen and me as we exited the canyon.  Photo by Aimee

On the way out, I cruised this sidewinder (Crotalus cerestes).  We all jumped out of the car for photos, as this was Lumen's first rattlesnake.  We saw another one, but it was anxious to get on its way so I only took video.

I picked up a black light flashlight with the hopes that I may possibly shine a scorpion at night.  Scorpions fluoresce under black lights which makes them easy to spot when they are out and about after dark.  Not only did I find one, I found many - all within seconds of exiting the car off of a random desert road!

I think this is the endemic Paruroctonus borregoensis (feel free to message me if I'm incorrect).

Back in San Diego, we spent most of our time at or near the beach, with stops at the San Diego Zoo, Scripps Aquarium, and other attractions.

A huge Boelen's python (Simalia boeleni)

If you go to Scripps, climb the steep little hill near the entrance and you'll find a worn path along the top of the ridge.  Take it toward the ocean and you'll have great views.  You will probably also find hundreds of these garden snails everywhere.  Actually, we were probably trespassing.  So, don't do that.

Lots of these crabs in the tide pools.

All kids are fascinated by what can be found in a tide pool.  Nerdy adults too.

Gull

Sea lions entertained the masses of tourists

California ground squirrel

During my first ever trip to La Jolla back in 1992, I explored these exact same cliffs and tide pools.

An islet occupied by cormorants

Until next time...

2023 University of Michigan Biological Station bioblitz

 There’s something undeniably magical about the North Woods.  The clean, fresh air, the aroma of conifers, the sound of water gently lapping at the shore, the quiet, and the dark, starry nights.  The North Woods are some of the last bastions of wilderness left in the eastern United States and people are spread out thin here.  Things may not be the same in twenty or thirty years, though.  With more and more urbanites escaping the grip of civilization, the great north is bound to lose some of its wonder.  It’s sad to think, but it’s inevitable.  That makes it all more important that there are organizations dedicated to preserving large natural areas, protecting them from logging and development.  The University of Michigan is one of those organizations.

Way up near Pellston, Michigan, near the convergence of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, sits the University of Michigan Biological Station (UMBS).  Designated as one of only forty-seven Biosphere Reserves in the United States, UMBS is represented by 10,000 acres of forests around Douglas Lake (another 3200 acres is located on Sugar Island, roughly sixty miles to the north).  Developed by the university in 1909 for research purposes, the UMBS offers rustic (and I mean RUSTIC) accommodations for students and researchers in the form of wood and steel cabins and bunkhouses.  The forests, complete with rivers and wetlands, are untouched by development aside from the small concentration of buildings and are reminiscent of a primordial era.

The University was holding a bioblitz at the UMBS and I was invited to attend by a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, Tristan.  While similar events have taken place here before, this year’s event, held July 21-23, focused primarily on aquatic life.  As part of the herp team, our goal would be to document as many aquatic and semiaquatic herps as we could, while also enjoying some of the plants and other lifeforms we were bound to find.

While making the drive north on U.S. Route 31, I enjoyed a most gorgeous sunset.  The setting sun gave way to a big sky bursting with pastels one must see in person to truly appreciate.  The experience was enhanced by the sounds of Moby’s Ambient 23 (try it).  With the windows down, the rush of fresh cool northern air felt really good.  At one point I had to pull over to put a hoodie on.  Have you ever taken a hoodie out for the first time in months and smelled it?  The comfort is hard for me to describe.

When I arrived, I met with Tristan and his lab mate, Mateos.  Us three would stay in one of the rooms in the historic bunkhouse.  After settling in, I decided to join Mateos and another student, Yu Kai, as they hiked to the shore of Douglas Lake for a sky photography session, accompanied by a calling loon.  The night sky in this area, moonless and brilliant, is without a doubt one of the greatest spectacles this planet has to offer.  We stared at the heavens for about an hour and cultivated an appreciation for each other’s biophilia.

Our view the first night. Photo by Yu Kai Tan

The creaky hallway of the bunkhouse

Some of the 100+ year old cabins

The next morning, the groups dispersed.  Tristan, Mateos, and several others (and I) hopped on a boat owned and operated by one of the local residents who was kind enough to volunteer her time to help us achieve our goal.  The plan was to hit various sites around Douglas Lake - mostly wetlands.  A couple of the initial sites were dry and unproductive, but finally we landed on the shore near a small, marshy bay that was hopping with metamorph toads (Anaxyrus americanus) and green frogs (Rana clamitans).  The toadlets were particularly numerous, and great care was taken not to step on any as we canvassed the shoreline.

Shallow lake bay, very froggy

Walking along the lakeshore, we began finding snakes.  The first was an adult female garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis) found basking in the warm morning sunlight.  Shortly afterward, I flipped the first ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus) of the search.  I pushed into the woods a bit and caught the first wood frog (Rana sylvatica).

Tristan documenting the day's first garter snake

Another garter

First of several northern ringers

One of several beautiful wood frogs

  Many northern leopard frogs (Rana pipiens) were seen, all looking fantastic in their various shades of greens and browns.

Green frogs were also quite common

Pond where we set turtle & minnow traps

One of the students flipped a log near the water and found the sole brown snake (Storeria dekayi) of the search.  Apparently these are not common up this way and the discovery was deemed significant.

Lots of blueberries were to be found.  These were fun to eat and provided a little bit of extra energy while we pushed on.

While shore-hopping aboard the boat, Tristan commented on the surprising lack of turtles.  We hadn’t even spotted one basking anywhere, which drew some concern.  Our boat captain mentioned that she in fact sees them regularly, and in time we would find one - a single painted turtle (Chrysemys picta).  Tristan spotted it from the boat and jumped into the shallows to grab it.  After a few photos, it was back on its way.

I swear we were a lot happier than we appear here

Tristan with a young male painted turtle

The lakeside wetlands sported some stunning flora.  

Marsh skullcap

Lesser purple fringed orchid

The beautiful but non-native broad-leafed helleborine

When we returned to the site’s boat dock, Tristan and Mateos walked me over to where they had captured fifteen mudpuppies (Necturus maculosus) the night before (prior to my arrival).  We re-captured a few to show our boat captain, as she had never seen a mudpuppy before.  

I think the highlight of the trip for me had to have been seeing my first ever ghost pipe (Monotropa uniflora).  Those who know me well probably know that there are two species I’ve inexplicably missed in my life - the ghost pipe and the walking stick (genus Diapheromera).  So while walking back from an open field while searching for snakes (and failing at escaping a ground hornet nest - ouch), one of the students spotted a ghost pipe - a single lovely stalk - growing in the dappled sunlight along the path.  My energy had been waning from hours of hiking in the heat of the day and all of a sudden I was reinvigorated.  I was happy to get that off my back. Now for that walking stick...

Not long later I’d find a robust cluster, growing next to one of the buildings of all places.

After a full day of herping, we collected a respectable number of species (nine I believe - the number grew after I left early the next morning) and I was ready to hit the cot.  Following a long drive home, Lumen and I spent a few hours catching turtles at the local lake (her idea, I swear).  It was a great weekend and I hope another opportunity to take part in the bioblitz comes around in the coming years. There are still a lot more species to account for!

What do I do immediately after a 7 hour road trip?  Find turtles of course

Deep into the Pee Dee

 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.  

My niece Molly

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.  

Southern toad

Crappy pic of one of the Eurycea but not bad considering it was dark out and I was aiming a beam from my flashlight between the metal grate and simultaneously zooming in with my cell phone...

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.

Mole cricket

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.

Inland taipan (Oxyuranus microlepidotus)

Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia is definitely worth a visit. The reptile house recently underwent a huge overhaul and the collection is impressive.

An impressive enclosure for an even more impressive green anaconda (Eunectus murinus)

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.