The 2 dark lines that define this subspecies are easily seen on this young example.
Although softshelled turtles hadn’t figured into our stop on the Pascagoula River, Jake and I were both delighted when we saw a female Gulf Coast spiny softshell, Apalone spinifera aspera, sunning on a snag near the shore. That it was a female was obvious from the heavily pigmented carapace. Not large as females go—the record is about 17 ½”—this female was about 9 inches in shell length. The much smaller males seem to top out at about 8 ½ “ carapace length and are often 1 or 2” smaller.

This subspecies ranges from eNC to seLA. It is found in extreme nFL, where I have seen it in the rivers in the Apalachicola National Forest.

This subspecies differs from all other subspecies of Apalone spinifera in having 2 (rather than just one) lines paralleling the rear of the carapace. Very visible in young example and males, the lines may be difficult to see on heavily pigmented adult females.

An Alabama map turtle--but not one that I found!
Our destinations on Sunday were access points to the Tombigbee River and If we failed to find Alabama map turtles, Graptemys pulchra) and northern black-knobbed sawbacks, G. n. nigrinoda, there to continue eastward to the Alabama River where we would again try our luck.

Similar to the other sawbacks, G, n. nigrinoda ranges from 3 to 8” in shell length. Males are only about half the size of the females. We had no trouble at all finding tis species on both the Tombigbee and, later, the Alabama rivers. On the other hand, the broad-headed Alabama map turtle, the second largest of this group with females nearing a 12” shell length, has proven tough.

When it was thought that the Alabama map turtle ranged from mid-AL to the Pearl River drainage in MS, I had no trouble finding them. But now that the western forms (the Pascagoula map and the Pearl River map) have become full species, I have had no luck at all in finding the real, remaining, population of the Alabama map turtle. This search was no exception—at least for me. I found none. But Jake scored again. He, after clambering 50 yards over an almost vertical rockface and teetering back and forth while photographing, actually got fuzzy pix of 2 G. pulchra in the river below his perch.

But another trip is forthcoming and the next time success WILL be mine (LOL).

The carapacial markings of the ringed sawback are often obscured by accumulated silt.
Typical of many of the jaunts that Jake and I embark on, this trip had morphed from a frog search that would have taken us on a round trip of about 700 miles to a frog AND turtle hunt that now would carry us close to 3500 miles. The Pearl River forms the LA-MS state line in the south and extends far into MS as it meanders northward. It is the home of the beautiful little ringed sawback, Graptemys oculifera, and the marginally larger, broad-headed Pearl River map turtle, Graptemys pearlensis, a species that can be difficult to find. Again, based on temporal blotch shape and genetics, the latter once considered the westernmost population of the Pascagoula map turtle is now a full species. Both taxa range from 3 to 8 1/2” in length; again females are the larger.

On our first access to the Pearl (late in the afternoon) we were able to see several ringed sawbacks on a nearby snag and the next day, from a very high and busy bridge, we saw a dozen or so more. It was at this 2nd vantage point that Jake succeeded in finding his “twofer”, finding 2 Pearl River maps among the ringed sawbacks while I, on the opposite end of the bridge, failed. But since I had seen them on an earlier trip, all was not lost.

What now? Back eastward and a bit northward to try for 1 species and 1 subspecies that we had missed on our run westward. And off we went.

The yellow-blotched map turtle is another aptly named beauty.
Navigator Jake takes his direction giving seriously. With the map turtle atlas open on his lap, he sought directions from both the GPS and his cellphone.

OK—go west, next left, next right, 2nd left, next left… and magically, just ahead of us was a bridge. We had reached the Pascagoula or at least one of its tributaries and as we looked down from the bridge we saw yellow-blotched sawbacks on every snag. And then, a bit upriver we saw 3 big map turtles, the two largest of which had BIG heads and were watching us with great interest. Map turtles are wary—very wary, and we hastened to take as many pix as we were able before the chelonians decided we were a threat and dove from their basking stations.

But we had succeeded. That stop had produced the “twofer” we had hoped for—the yellow-blotched map turtle, Graptemys flavimaculata, a sawbacked species (3-7” females the larger), and the Pascagoula map turtle, Graptemys gibbonsi, one of the broad-headed species (3-8 ½”, females the larger).

Based on temporal marking shape and genetic differences the Pascagoula map turtle, also referred to as Gibbon’s map turtle, was rather recently split away from the Alabama map.

“Where next?” Jake asked.

He looked unconvinced at my response, “the Pearl River.”

But within moments he had reassumed his navigator stance and it was westward, Ho!

The term "sawback" fits this taxon well.
The 2 subspecies of the black-knobbed map turtle, Graptemys nigrinoda, are often referred to as the southern (or Delta) black-knob, G. n. delticola, and the northern black-knob, G. n. nigrinoda. The 2 subspecies are very similar, with the southern form being darker and having a larger plastral figure than, its better known northern cousin.

There has long been controversy regarding the validity of the Delta map as a subspecies. Some contend that it is just a clinal/environmental variation of the black-knob. Because the 2 subspecies intergrade over a large part of the range, many authorities do not even attempt to define the Delta form. But since Peter Lindeman, “Dr. Map Turtle”, saw fit to recognize the southern form in his The Map Turtle and Sawback Atlas, it was high on Jake’s and my “wannasee” list. By the way, both of these subspecies are “sawbacked” forms.

At our next stop it was the lesser known, the southern subspecies, that we hoped to see.

By the time we reached our destination a few miles north of Mobile, AL the parking lot was filled, there were dozens of boats containing happy fishermen on the oxbow, and Delta map turtles (adult size, 3-8”, females the larger) were on every exposed snag. When Jake realized that the turtles were so used to the fishermen that in very un-map- turtle-like manner they continued basking unless closely approached, he shook his head in disbelief.

It was a picture taking kind of morning!

Adult female Escambia map turtles develop hypertrophied heads.
Jake and I had been talking about making a photographic foray for the various southeastern map turtles (Graptemys) for some time. One hot day in June 2016 we decided that the time had finally come. We had motored to Florida’s western panhandle in search of a bog frog (successful), and the first map turtle on Jake’s list, the Escambia map, was just a hop, skip, and jump further westward. So we found a motel and at sunrise the next morning we began our hopping, skipping, and jumping to the Escambia River drainage, where from a fishing dock, Jake got his lifer Escambia map turtle, G. ernsti, an adult female. The turtle was well above the waterline on a distant snag, but was immediately identifiable.

Although this broad-headed map turtle had been known to exist in the Escambia, Yellow, and Shoal rivers system for years, until 1992 it had been considered the easternmost population of the Alabama map turtle. Females attain a length of 7 to 10+ inches. Males are about half that size.

Once rather commonly seen in the pet trade, this is no longer the case with the The Rio Bamba marsupial frog, Gastrotheca riobambae.
Wayyyyyy back, from the 1950s to about 2000, importing herps for the hobby occurred at an almost unbelievable volume. Herps came to the USA from southern and eastern Africa, from many South and Central American countries, from Southeast Asia, and even from the various European countries. Within the USA itself, interstate trade in both native and imported herps was rampant and largely unregulated. When compared to today herps were abundant, species available were far more varied, and the asking prices of herps were then very cheap. For example, the 3 species of anurans pictured were once commonly seen in the American pet trade. Think back now—when was the last time you saw any of these offered? Here yesterday, gone or almost gone today. And today will soon be the yesterday when we find in future years that many of the herp taxa that we now take for granted are no longer available.

The dark outlined white shoulder marking is characteristic of the males of this taxon.
It was a female of this little (about 3” total length) lizard that I found first, and had she remained quiescent, I would have never seen her. Although the sun shown overhead, bathing the Amazonian canopy in heated brilliance, the rainforest trail that I trod was darkly shaded and relatively cool. The lizard, herself dark except for a single white tailtip band, was also on a dark, mouldering treetrunk. But for the nervously waving tail she. A collared gecko, Gonatodes concinnatus, was nearly invisible. But even in the gloom of the rainforest that seemingly disembodied patch of white waving to and fro caught my attention. I readied the camera but she darted to one side to never be seen by me. About 20 feet further on the trail and I happened across another female of this diurnal gecko wagging her strongly patterned tail. This time I got a picture.

But it was not until the next trip that I had an opportunity to see a male of this beautiful lizard. In fact, I got to see 2 males. The first was brought to me by a villager who had caught the lizard and secured it in a small plastic bag. I was delighted at having the opportunity to carefully observe the lizard. But I was even happier when later that day I was walking by the bird observation platform and I saw another male, this one perched quietly on a large bracket fungus. Camera…

Although caudal patterns may vary, elsewhere the colors are pretty well standardized.
We rented a tiny boat, a motor, and a driver, on the docks of a small fishing village on Costa Rica’s Pacific coast. Cost had been negotiated successfully, and within a few minutes we were on our way westward on the choppy waters of the bay. Our target species on this watery interlude was the yellow-bellied sea snake, Pelamis platurus, which species was quite common in the region, but that was most commonly seen by fishermen in the ocean slicks, patches of smooth-surfaced water that drifted between the choppy surfaces and when the snake became stranded on the beach.

Although Pelamis grows to nearly 4’ in length, those that we saw ranged from 24 to about 32 inches. On that trip we saw more than 2 dozen of these pelagic serpents. And indeed they are pelagic, ranging from the Asiatic shores of the Indian and Pacific oceans, Africa, and in the New World from Central America to California (rare in the USA). It has also been found far asea. Although this has often been said to be the most widely distributed of the world’s snakes, I’m wondering if the tiny flowerpot (blind) snake is not now a close runner-up?

Male Pelamis tend to be the smaller. This is a fish eating species.

This is a gravid female neon day gecko.

When I first saw a Phelsuma klemmeri at Glades Herp I exclaimed to Rob “that thing is brighter than a neon tetra!” And “neon day gecko” was the name that caught on for this yellow headed, blue and green, flattened, 3 ½ inch long mini-beauty.

Despite their small size I have found this small gecko to be easily kept and bred. Although a pair can easily thrive in a 12” cubed reptile cage, mine are in 24 x24x12” terraria. In a well-planted terrarium this size I am able to keep 2.4 of the geckos without fear of serious aggression. Since Epipremnum aureus is a hardy and pretty aroid that provides both humidity and substantial cover for the lizards, this is the planting I most often use. Lengths of bamboo (both vertical and diagonal (*see additional caging comments below)), heat and light are provided on both ends of the tank, thereby allowing the lizards ample room to stay well separated.

There is little question that the males of neon day geckos are territorial, but fewer keepers realize that to a lesser degree the females are also. Little serious physical harm comes from adverse interactions but the stress of persecution may eventually take its toll on the subordinate inhabitants. In a large communal situation, by providing well separated areas of equally ideal habitat, adverse effects from territoriality can be almost eliminated. In a smaller enclosure only a single pair should be kept.

Caging-Feeding suggestions

· Full spectrum lighting and a tight fitting screen top is necessary for this diurnal taxon
· 1/8” crickets, dusted with D3 + calcium as well as a prepared phelsuma diet should be provided
· Ascertain aggression does not occur. Do not crowd.
· Gently mist the terrarium daily. DO NOT overwet.
· 76-80F nights, 84-88F days.
· Vertical or diagonal dry bamboo sections between 1 and 3 inch diameter and as tall as the tank, preferably with natural longitudinal cracks through which the geckos may easily move, should be provided. Gravid female may need a marginally wider than normal opening. Careful use of a circular saw can provide access openings if natural cracks are not present.
· Sit back, relax, and enjoy these wonderful lizards!

The earthen colors blend well with the litter of the forest floor.
Clad in roughened scales of muted browns, tans, grays, white, and charcoal, the little Paraoedura androyensis, pygmy panther gecko, is well suited to life in the leaf litter of the southern and eastern Malagasy deciduous forests. This is the smallest of the 13 (with only one species being extralimital to Madagascar) species in this genus, with females, the marginally larger gender, attaining a total length a bit in excess of 3”. When the gecko is moving about, the tail, shorter than the snout-vent length, is often curled over the body. Dorsally the tail bears numerous conical scales and is studded with large, more rounded, scales ventrally.

This is an easy gecko to maintain. It usually feeds readily and will thrive in a leaf covered, clean soil, substrate at 79 to 88 degrees.They will drink from a shallow water dish but will benefit and will drink droplets when their cage is gently misted. Full spectrum lighting is not necessary for this nocturnal gecko.

Never particularly common is the pet trade, this panther gecko is even less so today than just 10 years ago. Fortunately there are a few breeders that occasionally offer captive bred individuals and a very few wild caught examples are usually available each year.

If you’re thinking of acquiring a pair of geckos, think this species. It is a species that is well worth working with.

Matamatas are always difficult to find and a pleasure to see.

I’m probably crossing some line or the other here by mentioning one of these 3 taxa but I’ll have a go at it anyway. The three species—wondrous Amazonians all-- that I have firmly in mind are the matamata, Chelus fimbriatus, the Suriname toad, Pipa pipa, and the Amazonian leaf fish, Monocirrhus polyacanthus, ambush predators all and all amazingly camouflaged aquatic predators.

The matamata grows to 18”, is flattened, and is camouflaged both by its mud color and skin flanges. It is a fish eater that catches prey by extending its head rapidly forward while distending its throat. The resulting vacuum draws an unwary fish into the mouth where it is then quickly swallowed.

The 6” long Suriname toad, primarily an invertebrate eater that will accept small fish, is also camouflaged by color and its flattened appearance. Rather than catching prey like a roving vacuum, this anuran shovels edible items into its wide mouth with its forefeet and fingers.

At 3”, the leaf fish is by far the smallest of these 3 predatory species, and limits itself, at least when adult, to a diet of smaller fish. The mouth of the leaf fish is large, distensible and extendable and a single barbel, in appearance like the stem of a leaf, extends from the lower jaw. Camouflaged by color and a very slow head down approach, this little mud colored (sounds like a broken record doesn’t it?) fish is a hunter to be reckoned with.

Do I see all 3 on every trip? No. But sometimes I do get lucky.

Pretty and very agile, the green cascades frog was imported from Hong Kong.Prior to the turn of the century, occasional herp shipments from Southeast Asia (and most notably from Hong Kong) would include a few interesting anurans. One that I found very interesting was the beautiful and agile green cascades frog. Although imported under the name of Rana livida it was even then recognized that rather than an actual species, the cascades frogs were actually a species complex. Over the years genetic assessment has identified at least 6 additional lookalike species and the Hong Kong form (with which I was familiar) is now recognized as Odorrana chloronota. (Odorrana livida is now known to be restricted to southern Myanmar.)

As indicated by its common name this is a stream dwelling species, but not indicated by its name is the fact that the waters in which this primarily nocturnal frog occurs are not necessarily cascades. Within the streams the green cascades frog may be seen on boulders, logs, and the stream banks. This species is sexually dimorphic with females attaining a snout-vent length of 5” and adult males being about half that length.

A bronze frog, Rana c. clamitans
The controversial generic name of Lithobates has been laid to rest—at least for Holarctic frog taxa.

Holarctic? What, exactly, does that mean and what frog species does it encompass?

Meriam Webster dictionary defines the term Holarctic thusly: “of, relating to, or being the biogeographic region including the northern parts of the Old and the New Worlds and comprising the Nearctic and Palearctic regions or subregions”. Or defined by the Free Dictionary as “a floristic and zoogeographic land area that occupies the extratropical portion of the northern hemisphere; its southern boundary lies roughly along the northern boundary of the Tropic of Cancer”.

In a Facebook post, geneticist David Hillis states “Our paper on the systematics and biogeography of Rana (Holarctic true frogs) is now available as a pdf at this link (final volume and page numbers to come): http://sysbio.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/reprint/syw055.

The actual name of the paper is Spatiotemporal Diversification of the True Frogs (Genus Rana): A Historical Framework for a Widely Studied Group of Model Organisms and Dr. Hillis was one of the 15 authors.

With this paper Lithobates is gone and Rana is back! To Dr. Hillis and the 14 coauthors I extend my profound “thanks.”

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.

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.

Although a cool morning, eastern collared lizards were up and active.
On our second night in Comstock we were treated to more rains and the only significant find was a DOR Baird’s rat snake. It was time to head west again. Radar showed clearing weather and the forecast in the Davis Mountains was for several days of hot, clear, high-pressure, weather. From one extreme to the other with neither evening downpours nor stationary high pressure systems being exactly conducive to herp activity.

The stop at Davis Mountains State Park was actually a birding stop with elf owls and Montezuma quail being the target species. But with that having been said, neither Jake nor I are exactly adverse to happening across herps of any species.

While searching out the owl, a pair of Texas whiptails, Aspidoscelis gularis, busily searched out insects. During the longer search for the quail we happened across both a foraging eastern collared lizard. Crotaphytus collaris, and startled an almost fully grown Great Plains skink, Plestiodon obsoletus. This was a lifer for Jake who spent a half an hour following the skink, camera in hand. Again, time for a nap in preparation for a night of road-cruising.

These 3 Trans-Pecos copperheads were found on this trip.
Our plans again changed, but only by a few minutes. The hour was late and we had decided to call it a night. Then, well on our way to the road exit, I decided “aww heck. Just one more pass and then we’d leave. I reversed direction again and had hardly gotten up to cruising speed when “SNAKE.” I slammed the brakes on and Jake was out of his door before the car fully stopped. Another “WAHOOOOO,” then “Copperhead.”

This, the Trans-Pecos copperhead, Agkistrodon piscivorous pictigaster (and yes, I’m aware of the nomenclatural changes but I happen to believe in the subspecies concept!) was another lifer for Jake.

This, the southwesternmost of the 5 subspecies of copperhead, is also the most strikingly colored. The dark bands are wide, shade to a narrow rich mahogany edging fore and aft, and contain a central light patch as they near the dark belly. Pretty? You have to see and adult example (juveniles are paler overall) of this pit viper to fully appreciate its beauty.

And we were able to appreciate it 3 times, for besides Jake’s lifer, we found 2 additional copperheads. Things were looking up. Now on to Study Butte.

This little yellow mud turtle chose to be active during the deluge.

We awakened to a persistent and thickening cloud cover rent in all directions by bolts of cloud to ground lightning. Thunderstorms surrounded us. Hmmmm. What now? We hadn’t driven all night only to be thwarted by storms. But as it turned out, thwarted we were. To the west was a solid wall of rain. Eastward seemed a bit brighter in a dark sort of way, so we headed east to 277, a fabled gray-banded kingsnake road, only to be met by still intensifying thunderstorms.

Within minutes it was raining so hard that the wipers were ineffectual. Lightning, in all of its many incarnations, was incessant. Jake and I knew that our first night in West Texas was destined to be a bust; if any herps at all were active it would be the amphibians, and so it was--almost. Of the many possibilities that night we were to see only Couch’s spadefoots, Scaphiopus couchii, Rio Grande leopard frogs, Rana berlandieri, and a single yellow mud turtle, Kinosternon flavescens, that scuttled quickly from the pavement. The storm of that evening was epic with rainfall exceeding 5 inches. Motel time!

This western diamondback was seen several times in one night.
At dusk—a clear, warm, dusk-- we found a vinegaroon! On a trip that had been plagued with evening downpours, that was a definite step in the right direction. Vinegaroons (aka whip scorpions or uropygids) are always a welcome find. Detaining it for photos induced the release of the protective acetic acid concoction from which this arachnid takes its name, but within a minute or two the little beast was continuing its trek across the pavement.

Although we were the first ones on the road, three other cars of herpers soon joined the hunt. But despite the competition we did reasonably well. The first find was a 2-foot long black-tailed rattlesnake, Crotalus m. molossus. Jake spied its nose, barely out of the roadside grasses, soon after darkness had fallen. Second up for the evening was a 2-foot long western diamondback, Crotalus atrox, the first of this normally abundant species we had seen on the trip. A trusting snake, we saw this young rattler on several other of the evening’s passes. The third snake of the evening brought an explosive “YESSSSSS” followed by a victory dance from Jake. It, a western hook-nosed snake, Gyalopion canum, was a taxon that had evaded us for the previous 2 years. And as it turned out, it was the only example of this little arachnid and insect eater that we found on this trip! Lady luck was smiling occasionally.