Despite the similarity of appearance to that of a slimy salamander, the white-spot is more closely allied to the Wehrle's salamander
“Looks bad, Jake.”

There was 4” of snow and the higher we climbed the faster the snow was falling. We were on a mountaintop on the WV-VA stateline hoping to find a white-spotted (Cow Knob) salamander, Plethodon punctatus. Although having the white-spots on a black ground color of a slimy salamander, this 6-inch long montane caudatan is more closely allied to Wehrle’s salamander.

As I had done a decade-plus earlier, Jake was now trying to accrue a life list of all USA herps, and P. punctatus was one of the few Appalachian caudatans remaining on his “wannasee” list. But despite our efforts on that day and the next to two locales, we failed to find this wanted and localized taxon.

On day one, after a slow, rocky, muddy, several mile climb on a Jeep trail, my trusty CRV made it to within .8 mile of the destination. At that point we encountered a Jeep-only puddle that prevented us going further. But it mattered not. Because of the snow cover and existing snow storm, we had learned by that time it that it was almost impossible to find the habitat we had hoped to see, and the cover we did find was still frozen to the ground.

Except for not being stopped by a puddle, conditions on day two conspired equally against us. The snow was even deeper, the ground cover was still frozen. And if salamanders were there they succeeded in hiding from us. It was time to give up.
C’mon spring!

A prettily marked red sided garter snake in eastern OK.
Although to some degree all of the 12 subspecies of the common garter snake, Thamnophis sirtalis, are variable in color and pattern, overall some subspecies are more colorful than others. The red-sided garter snake, T. s. parietalis, of our plains states (and far northward into Canada) are consistently more colorful than some others. But in keeping with the variability of the species, some have bright red bars on the side while on others (especially on old individuals) the red may be seen only on the interstitial skin. Those that Jake and I recently photographed in Kansas ran the gamut of color variations. Old friends to me, this subspecies was a lifer for Jake. All, no matter the color, were welcome.

Aquatic plants provided food and seclusion for these turtles.

The 2 subspecies of the Trachemys dorbigni, are the southernmost of the red-eared slider group. The northernmost, T. d. braziliensis, occurs in various waterways in northern and central Brazil while the southernmost form, T. d. dorbignyi, occurs in southern Brazil, Uruguay, and northern Argentina. Where the ranges meet intergradation occurs.

Both subspecies are green as hatchlings and juveniles. The green persists the longer on the northern subspecies but, dulls to olive or brown on the southern race. Facial striping is also different on the two, with the northern subspecies having a broad red ear-stripe and the southern having a narrow yellow to orange stripe.

The few that I have had have been very much like typical pet-trade red ears in all respects. The hatchlings and juveniles ate all manner of prepared turtle chow, but seemed especially fond of the floating pond fish pellets fed daily to the goldfish with which they shared the pond. As they grew these slider added aquatic plants of many types to their dietary preferences.

While the babies were shy, paddling furiously to the seclusion of the floating plants, the adults were less inclined to do so.

Although this big eastern diamondback initially coiled when we surprised each other, It soon continued slowly across the road.
The diamondback in front of the car was unhappy. It had emerged from the grassy expanse on my left and made it unchallenged halfway across the road when along came I. Swerving back and forth in a futile attempt to avoid the numerous potholes that stretched in front of me, I was just a few feet from the big rattler before I noticed it.

I had been carefully checking out fallen pines along a shaded roadway and by the time I had reached the road’s end had, for my efforts, found beneath the snags 2 fair-sized scarlet kingsnakes, Lampropeltis triangulum elapsoides.

Having checked obvious herp hideouts on the way in, I was going a bit faster while leaving. When I saw the big diamondback, Crotalus adamanteus, I slammed on the brakes and stopped a mere 4 feet from it. The snake came to the same conclusion as I—this was much too close for either of us—so I backed up a bit.

Despite never slowing its crossing, the snake assumed a typical diamondback defense stance, a position that said as plainly as possible “back off buddy. I’ll go my way and you go yours.”

Which we both did.

Scattered roofing tins were eagerly sought by herps and herpers alike.

I’m unsure of the year, but it was probably in the late 50s or early 60s, Gordy Johnston and I motored to Arkansas to visit Denny Miller. At that time there were woodlands, trash piles, pieces of cardboard, and discarded newspapers (today, in any form, the latter are an endangered species) along many of the rural roads that we travelled and beneath the scattered debris were kingsnakes bearing varying degrees of speckling, and rat snakes.

Today, traveling those same roads, there are instead of the old sights and sites, some woodlands, many homes and businesses, and an almost total lack of the trash that those long ago snakes called home.

Other states are the same way. Wayyyyy cleaner than they used to be. Gone, but not forgotten, are most of the illegal trashpiles within and beneath which herpers used to find scarlet kings, bullsnakes, coachwhips, garters, rat snakes, and others. Gone, too, are the collapsed wooden billboards and (because of those darned tubeless tires) the innertubes that once lay in profusion beneath the long removed Australian pines along Florida’s US27 south of the Big Lake. Those tubes and trees were home to Everglades rat snakes and Florida kings during the cooler days of winter. Gone too are the wooden railroad trestles, piles of deteriorating wooden railroad ties, wooden bridges over rural streams, pumphouses, scattered roofing tins…

Those long ago, ample trash-times, provided the Halcyon Days—Halcyon years in fact, If the term allows for such extensive prolonging, for herpers. Simply stated, trash, either in piles or scattered, meant snakes, sometimes many snakes, and finding snakes made for many herping excursions, the trips that provided the fodder for the fond memories of today’s older herpers, including yours truly.