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.

Hatchling rusty whipsnakes are bright green.
Most herpers are familiar with the ontogenetic changes (orange as neonates/hatchlings and green as adults) of emerald tree boas and green tree pythons. But fewer among us are familiar with the color changes of the rusty whipsnake, Chironius scurrulus.

The rusty whipsnake is a hefty and often feisty Amazonian species. Although 4 to 5 feet in length is the most commonly seen adult size, a few may exceed 6 feet by a few inches. Subadults and adults are often found along watercourses where they feed on amphibians and (I have been told but have not verified) fish. The term “rusty” fits the adults to a T—they are a rusty orange, often with scattered black scales dorsally and laterally. The head may have a dusky hue.

The hatchlings, however, are semiarboreal and are a beautiful leaf green. The green dulls quickly with age and growth and within 2 or 3 shedding cycles the once bright green baby has become a dull olive, an ontogeny 180 degrees reversed from the better known emerald boas and pythons.

Once common, today the Tucson shovel nosed snake, C. o. klauberi, can be difficult to find.
The insectivorous (some arachnids are also eaten) genus Chionactis, the shovel-nosed snakes, contains 2 fossorial species, palarostris and occipitalis. The former, the Sonoran shovel-nose, Chionactis palarostris, contains 2 subspecies (palarostris and organica) while the western shovelnose, C. occipitalis, contains 4 (occipitalis, annulata, klauberi, and talpina) .

The ground color of both species is white (or cream or yellow), with well separated saddles of black or brown and (often) saddles, or at least a hint, of red (or orange) alternating with the black. Some saddles, especially the dark ones, may extend ventrally and encircle the body. Colors and patterns vary both subspecifically and individually.

These small (14-17 inches), slender, burrowers feed on insects and arachnids. Seldom seen (unless flipped) by day, they are often found above ground at night and can be remarkably abundant when atmospheric conditions are ideal.

Rarely seen in the United States, the range of Chionactis palarostris, includes nwSN and extreme scAZ. Conversely, C. occipitalis, the western shovel-nose, ranges primarily in the sw USA (scAZ and scCA northward to sNV), entering MX only in nBaja and nwSN.

Habitat of the Chihuahuan Lyre Snake in West Texas
That Trimorphodon vilkinsonii are out there, there is no doubt—no doubt at all. There is also not the least bit of doubt that I can’t find them. Others find them, sometimes mere minutes before I arrive or after I have left. I know this for a fact for sometimes I’ve been allowed to photo the found snake.

I began looking for this elusive nocturnal snake on Texas trips in the ‘50s with my friend and mentor, Gordy (E. Gordon) Johnston. We drove (actually Gordy drove and I rode) back and forth, and failed to find them. Subsequently I have failed to find them on many of the same roads, right up until today, some 55 years later. If not anything else, at least I am consistent—except for one time. That one time about 15 years ago, Kenny and I were driving through the Chinati Mountain ghost town of Shafter, Texas. In the middle of the town (population once about 4,000, now about 11) we found a DOR lyre snake. The DOR snake was rather fresh and I wondered where the car that had killed it had come from, where it was going, and if the killing of the snake had been deliberate or accidental. It just seemed impossible that with that little traffic the paths of car and snake should have crossed.

Since then I have looked with reasonable regularity during all kinds of weather at all hours of darkness, and never again glimpsed one. Hugh tells me they’re fairly common. Ron tells me they’re very rare. I know only that I have driven and walked the rockcuts in their known TX range for more than half a century and have not only failed to find them, but failed dismally. Time to switch to birding.

The question--will ontogenetic changes turn this little western coachwhip pink?

One of the most noteworthy snake features of the Big Bend region is to be found on adult western coachwhips, Masticophis (you are free to call them Coluber if you choose!) flagellum testaceus. The adults assume a bright (some call it “screaming”) pink coloration. The juveniles—up to at least a 3 foot length—are typically a straw tan with broad, light, bands.

Coachwhips and the related whipsnakes are usually very evident in the Big Bend region. Since both Jake and I hoped to surprise and photograph one of the pink adults, we made a point of searching for them on several mornings. On most of those days we drove for at least 50 miles on our searches, and on one occasion we drove for more than 200 miles. Zero coachwhips, zero whipsnakes. If you’re thinking “what a failure,” just imagine how we felt. We had failed to find one of the most conspicuous and commonest of Big Bend’s diurnally active snakes. This stationary high pressure system was really crimping our style (and our hopes). With our allocated trip duration quickly drawing to a close we decided to move up to northeastern Presidio County. Could (or would) a change of venue make a difference in our success (or lack of same)?

Did it make a difference? Well, we at least saw a coachwhip—a straw colored juvie-- streaking across the roadway. We saw Texas horned lizards and lesser earless lizards. We saw desert box turtles. And we saw Ron and Daniel Tremper who had just seen an adult pink colored coachwhip cross the roadway and stage one of their oft-duplicated yet always surprising disappearing acts—probably by scooting down a ground squirrel hole.

But, and for us this was an important “but,” Ron and Daniel presented to us without ceremony a 30” western coachwhip that they had chased down (all I can say is a respectful “WOW”). It now sits in a place of honor as the only snake in my very small herp collection. I get bitten by it almost every day but I’m hoping that as it grows and if it drinks enough blood it will assume the beautiful pink of its Presidio County brethren. I’ve gotta get that picture somehow! Thanks, Ron and Daniel. I’ll keep you posted on the ontogenetic changes—if any.

Trans-Pecos rat snakes were the species most commonly seen.
With several mobile homes (cabins) scattered over the hilly terrain, and having a herp-friendly owner, Wild Horse Station is a magnet for herpers and birders. Although Jake and I had failed to make reservations earlier, we had lucked out. Mrs. Hammer (owner) still had one unrented cabin. We rented it and decided on an afternoon nap to prepare us for a night of herping.

Although it had poured here the night before we arrived, the low pressure system had then been replaced by a high that was to persist for the 5 days we were in the Study Butte-Terlingua region. Weatherwise, things did not look overwhelmingly in our favor for snake movement. But after having driven 1500 miles with high hopes firmly entrenched, adversity is difficult if not impossible to accept.

So anyway, here we were, still with high hopes, at Wild Horse Station for 5 days. Luckily, our friends from last year, Charles and Wendy Triche, were in the next cabin so we could visit and commiserate.

The nights cooled quickly allowing the few snakes that were out and about to move shortly after nightfall. But let me tell you how bad conditions (I really don’t think it was our searching techniques!) were; on a 30-mile stretch of road where we usually see a dozen or more rattlesnakes of 4 taxa, in 5 nights we saw ZERO, and on that whole trip we saw only a half dozen Trans-Pecos rat snakes! Even the prey items, the pocket mice, kangaroo rats, and other desert rodents, were at an all time low.

The half dozen Trans-Pecos rat snakes, Bogertophis subocularis, we found were all normals (no blondes, but Bob Hansen’ s group found a blonde the night after we moved northward—congratulations Bob and gang). The few variable ground snakes, Sonora semiannulata, found were pretty but none were of the more colorful banded phases. And after dozens of runs and rock checks through prime habitat, finding our principal target taxon, a Chihuahuan lyre snake, Trimorphodon vilkinsonii, remained only a dream.
Will there be a trip next year? Only time will tell. If so will it show better results. Only Mother Nature and Jupiter (the God of weather) can say.