Peninsula ribbons seem to outnumber the more northerly blue striped subspecies at Gulf Hammock.
Kenny and I were on a very rural dirt road that is well within an area known as a stronghold for classic “Gulf Hammock” rat snakes the target of that nights search. The total rat snakes found, despite seemingly ideal field conditions, was a resounding zero. But despite the lack of rat snakes we were far from skunked! On both the sand roads and later, on the paved roads, venomous snakes were on the prowl that evening. On the sand roads we found 4 dusky pygmy rattlers, Sistrurus miliarius barbouri, and 2 small Florida cottonmouths, Agkistrodon piscivorous conanti. On the paved roads we added 1 larger (3+ feet) Florida cottonmouths and a single Peninsula ribbon snake, Thamnophis sauritue sackenii, to the evenings total. We left happy, knowing then that we’d be back to try again tomorrow.

This Suwannee alligator snapper had a 6" carapace length.
Ever get smacked in the headlamp on a dark night by a big water snake that you didn’t know was there? I’ll tell you, it can really catch your attention!

The Santa Fe River was either at its all time lowest or darn close to it. Normally 4 or 5 feet deep at this locale, at the time in question you could then wade across the river without getting much more than your ankles wet! Did I mention that we were in a drought—a drought that showed no sign of easing. I was searching for Suwannee Alligator Snappers, Macroclemys suwanniensis.

The biggest of the alligator snapping turtles stayed pretty close to the deeper pits scoured around old snags and root systems. Smaller snappers, more mobile, hence less restricted, could still be seen in shallower areas. And it was one of these smaller turtles, one about 6 inches long, that I was trying to photograph in situ when I blundered into a big—or at least when it struck at me it seemed big—brown water snake, Nerodia taxispilota.

It was well after dark and I was intent on following a turtle that was at least equally intent on not being followed. In fact, the turtle had just disappeared, having maneuvered quickly into a hidden root system in the undercut bank. Without first looking I leaned against an overhanging limb to stablize myself as I searched (in vain, I might add) and accidentally pinned the water snake against the tree with my shoulder. As water snakes are wont to do, this one (all 3 ½ feet of it—adults can be 5 to 5 ½ feet in total length) took exception to my accidental familiarity, striking at the illuminated and moving headlamp.

I jumped back, tripped, fell (sure glad the river was low!) saw the snake drop into the current, and decided to call it quits. Now, which way was the car?

As in many other locales in Texas, rocky roadcuts between Sanderson and Comstock provide ideal habitat for many herps. Though rainy and dreary as we drove it in 2016, this stretch of highway holds many fond memories.
Jake and I had been in West Texas (Comstock to Big Bend) for more than a week and had been plagued by adverse weather for all but one night. Deluges had curtailed most herp movement for the first 2 nights. This was followed by a high pressure system for the next 6 nights. Jake’s vacation time was quickly drawing to a close, and we were still experiencing bad weather. Hoping to find a particular taxon of earless lizard and to make the most of the persistent high pressure we had elected to head back eastward a day early. By the time we had gotten to Sanderson the sunshine had been obliterated by sullen clouds that stretched to the horizon. The road, somewhere just east of Langtry was wet and a gentle rain was still falling —it too stretching to the eastern horizon. Obliterated with the sunshine was the lizard search.

I would imagine that unless you’re a herper or a birder, the long drive from Sanderson to Del Rio, might be a boring strip of road. Occasional cattle, a raven or two, and a dozen or so 18-wheelers—a roadsign directing you to Pumpville, another for Pandale, the communities of Langtry and Comstock, and a vast reservoir are all you will see.

But for herpers this same stretch of road holds many possibilities, especially if traversed on a dark night during a period of low barometric pressure. For, to many of us, and certainly to me, this is “the gray-banded kingsnake road.” It was from beneath a cattle guard at the corner where Bill Chamberlain’s gas station once stood that with Gordy and Dennie I was to see our first “Blair’s king,” a dark phase (yes, they WERE Blair’s kings back then). And then, just to add to the excitement of that night,on one of the dirt roads (I think it was the road to Pumpville) we found a second Blair’s, a light phase. Although I’ve never duplicated that 2 in one night episode, I’ve added rat snakes, long-nosed snakes, rattlesnakes, and many others to the species found along US90.

Bored by this road? Not I!

As hatchlings, alligators are prominently banded with yellow on black.
Alligators are very much a fact of life in the deep south. And our area of Florida is certainly not exempt. We live between a fair-sized pond and a sizable wetland. Just beyond the wetland is Paynes Prairie State Biological Preserve. There is no shortage of gators here. In wandering from pond to wetlands or vice versa gators often stop in our yard. So far he visitors have ranged from 14” to 8’. Because we have dogs the bigger alligators cause us some concern so we escort them out of the yard and at least part way back to the pond. So far none have returned.

Since the wetlands opened across the street from us we have been able to watch and listen to these big reptiles at about any time we choose. Breeding activity (including male bellowing) and territorial skirmishes are seen and heard in April and May. Hatchlings are usually first seen in late May to July. Except on the most inclement of winter days basking adults may be seen year round.

As stated at the outset, gators are very much a fact of life here. We keep our distance and during the breeding season we keep even greater distances from displaying males and nesting females. Dogs on trails, even when on leashes, can lead to seriously adverse gator encounters. Pure and simple, dogs = food. Watch toddlers carefully. Use common sense folks. Gators are big, dominant, predators that often feed in the shallows or on the shoreline. Give them their due! As the cliché states, “Be safe, not sorry!” And I’ll add, if you really love your dog, leave it at home when you’re in gator country.

Hatchling Texas alligator lizards are prominently marked.
The family Anguidae comprises species from Europe, Africa, Mexico, Asia and the United States. Several of the species are limbless and others, such as the various alligator lizards, have short but fully functional limbs. All have functional eyelids, most have a lateral groove, and the broad tongue is protrusible and bears a slight notch at the tip.

To many hobbyists, the Texas alligator lizard, Gerrhonotus liocephalus infernalis--attenuate, short limbed, and long-tailed--is the king of the family. Certainly it is an interesting species that, although not rare, is secretive and can be difficult to find. Although essentially terrestrial, hiding beneath all manner of surface debris (leaf litter, logs, rocks, cardboard, etc.), this lizard is quite capable of climbing and may ascend juniper or other rough barked trees/shrubs.

Adults of this impressive lizard are gray(ish) or brown(ish) with poorly defined lighter dorsal barring from nape to tailtip. The ground color of juveniles (and hatchlings especially) is much darker and the dorsal barring is lighter and more precise. The long tail is slightly prehensile and readily autotomized.

This is a lizard of Texas’s Edwards Plateau westward to the Big Bend region and from there southward to San Luis Potosi.

Big, loud, prolific, and predatory describe the adult bullfrog well.
Besides the painted turtles mentioned in my last blog, the ponds in the one-time zoo in my hometown had a sizable (both in numbers and body size) and vocal population of bullfrogs, Rana catesbeiana. In itself this was not unusual. By definition bullfrogs are big, noisy, and prolific. Having a body size of 8+ inches, males of this very aquatic species are larger than females. And although females are capable of making escape and fright screams, it is the males that produce the more typical croaks, bellows, and “jug-o-rums.” That takes care of the big and noisy parts of my above statement, but how about prolific? Female bullfrogs produce egg masses that contain from about 7,500 eggs to more than 25,000! That, my friends, is prolific! Fortunately, many predators, from cats to raccoons to herons to water snakes, to bigger bullfrogs to aquatic insects consider bullfrog tadpoles and metamorphs a tasty repast, so not all young bullfrogs make it to the adult size. In fact, it is probable the most don’t survive past the juvenile/subadult stages.

But what about those that do? Well, back to the bullfrogs in my hometown zoo ponds where, secluded and protected by lush water lily/lotus growth dozens (if not hundreds) of wee bullfrogs evaded predation, survived and grew and grew. Most of the froglets were normal, but I would find a few—1 or 2—each year that had a similar deformity—3 hind legs! Cause? Unknown. And I never found an adult with this anomaly.

Eastern painted turtles usually have an immaculate plastron.
Midland, Eastern, or Intergrade? That is the question.

As a kid I was either skipping school to watch a warbler migration or out bugging the local (Springfield, MA) herp populations. It seemed then that either of these pursuits was a whole lot better than sitting in a classroom.

One of the herp populations that I enjoyed visiting was the huge population of painted turtles in the water lily/lotus ponds of erstwhile local park/zoo, i.e. Forest Park. I didn’t know much about herps back in those early days (I’m not sure I do now!) but I did know that there was a dramatically different suite of characteristics in those turtles. Some had plain yellow plastrons, some had plastrons smudged with dark pigment, and the plastron of others bore a well-defined central figure. I also noticed at some point in time that the carapacial scute sutures (costals and vertebrals) of those having the solid yellow plastrons went nearly straight across the carapace from side to side (excluding the marginals) while the costal sutures of the painted turtles with the plastral figures were not in line with the vertebral sutures. I don’t remember the carapacial suture configuration on the turtles with the smudged plastrons.

So, what did we have in these painted turtles? Employing the description still used today we had eastern painteds, Chrysemys picta picta (solid yellow plastron and nearly straight side to side scute sutures), midland painteds, C. p. marginata (well defined plastral figure and offset costal-vertebral sutures) and intergrades (smudged plastrons).

And therein lies the problem, a problem unbeknownst to me then, and of no interest to the turtles either then or now. But while the easterns and even the intergrades could be easily explained, the presence of 2 well defined subspecies, the eastern and the midland, in the same puddles should not have occurred. Could our descriptive criteria be faulty? Awww heck. As long as the turtles don’t care why should it bother us.