Mountain Bikers & Trail Runners: Slow Down for Snakes!

Here in Colorado, at least along the Front Range, we enjoy a variety of "wilderness" recreational opportunities from hiking to rock climbing. Sometimes differing modes of trail enjoyment come into conflict, and sometimes the wildlife suffers even worse consequences. Here I will relate why people traveling over trails at high speed (mountain bikers and trail runners specifically) need to understand their potential impacts on reptiles in particular.

Baby gartersnake basking on trail

I have been fortunate to encounter at least four species of snakes along popular trails in various parks and open spaces. Snakes make use of patches of earth unobstructed by vegetation in order to bask, warming their bodies for active hunting later, to help digest a meal, or otherwise regulate their metabolism. Trails are ideal for this purpose and it is not uncommon to find serpents stretched across the full width of a trail.

Obviously, venomous snakes such as the Prairie Rattlesnake also pose a threat to people using trails. Trail runners must be mindful of the potential to encounter rattlesnakes, especially in early morning or early evening hours, and on overcast days. I personally recall one afternoon when a trail runner passed me, and I almost tripped over a Prairie Rattlesnake shortly thereafter. I suspect the runner never saw it.

A handsome Prairie Rattlesnake stretched across a trail

When traversing terrain at a high rate of speed, it is essentially impossible to notice a snake or other small organism on the trail. If it is noticed it may be mistaken for a branch or other object. Snakes are generally well-camouflaged and overlooked even by those seeking to find them.

Besides the fact that a snake cannot move rapidly enough to avoid an oncoming bicycle tire, or running shoe, it is usually not programmed to do so behaviorally. A snake's primary defense against a perceived threat is to rely on camouflage and stillness in hopes the predator or danger does not detect it. So, snakes are, figuratively if not literally, "sitting ducks" when it comes to oblivious mountain bikers and trail runners.

Aw-w-w, a basking baby gophersnake

There is evidence that other types of small animals also suffer from collisions or other encounters with mountain bikers and trail runners. While my chief personal interest is in insects and spiders, and I find a great deal of carnage related to even regular bicyclists, most invertebrate species have robust, widespread populations that can withstand even heavy mortality. Not so with many reptiles, small mammals, ground-nesting birds, and other organisms. Remember that all animals are subject to many non-human mortality factors as well: Predators, parasites, disease, and infertility for example.

Gartersnake smile

What can you do to avoid conflict and still enjoy yourself? Consider recreating at a time of day when reptiles are not normally active. Yes, that means late morning through afternoon during the warmer months. Winter riding means little or no conflict with wildlife. Slow down, especially in open habitats such as prairies, meadows, and glades, south- or east-facing hillsides, and along rock outcrops. Ride only on trails designated for mountain biking (but you do that already, I'm sure). If there is a park headquarters, visitors center, or nature center, consult with personnel there to find out which trails are best, and whether there is frequent wildlife activity along them.

Thank you for reconsidering your riding and running habits and becoming more "wildlife-friendly" to other creatures. Those of us who share the trails but move at a slower pace and enjoy our encounters with animals will be grateful for your thoughtfulness.

Prairie Rattlesnake thanks you for your courtesy

Sources: Burgin, Shelley and Nigel Hardiman. 2012. "Is the evolving sport of mountain biking compatible with fauna conservation in national parks?," Australian Zoologist 36(2): 201-208.
Craver, Monica. 2009. "The Impacts of Mountain Biking on Amphibians and Reptiles, 2008," e-mail to Council ATdnv.org
Davenport, John and T. Adam Switalski. 2006. "Environmental Impacts of Transport, Related to Tourism and Leisure Activities," in Davenport, John and Julia L. The Ecology of Transportation: Managing Mobility for the Environment. Dordrecht: Springer. pp. 333-360.
Goode, Matthew J., Jeffrey M. Howland, and Michael J. Sredl. 1995. Effects of Microhabitat Destruction on Reptile Abundance in Sonoran Desert Rock Outcrops. Nongame and Endangered Wildlife Program Heritage Report. Arizona Game and Fish Department, Phoenix, Arizona.
Vandeman, M.J. 2011. "The Impacts of Mountain Biking on Wildlife and People - A Review of the Literature," ARPN Journal of Science and Technology 4(7): 418-426.

Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show 2010

Saturday, September 25, I had to choose among several nature-oriented events around the Tucson area. My selection was the annual Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show at the Expo Center in South Tucson. While the overwhelming majority of participants were vendors of live reptiles, arachnids, and terraria and other products related to keeping pet “herps,” the educational exhibits were quite enthralling.

The Tucson Herpetological Society featured several live reptiles native to Arizona, including this Great Basin Rattlesnake, Crotalus oreganus lutosus.

I just looked up the scientific name for that serpent in the book Rattlesnakes of the United States & Canada, authored by Manny Rubio. I purchased that outstanding reference at the Reptile Show as well, and Manny was on hand all day signing copies.

The most impressive exhibits were furnished by the Phoenix Herpetological Society. This organization even runs a sanctuary for unwanted reptiles. I suspect that some of the more dangerous specimens were probably seizures in raids on drug-smuggling rings since trafficking in narcotics and exotic pets often go hand-in-hand. Macho dealers often want pets symbolic of their toughness, and/or dangerous pets to guard their stashes of illegal substances, cash and weapons. In any event, the animals the PHS brought to Tucson were truly amazing.

I am not readily intimidated by reptiles, but one specimen had me a little nervous and totally in awe. It was a Reticulated Python, Python reticulatus, raised from a hatchling by the gentleman standing next to it at the exhibit. The snake is now seventeen years old, just shy of 19 feet in length, and weighing in at 260 pounds. I estimate the snake’s head was at least as large as my size 7 ½ shoe. The snake’s name was “Tiny.” No, I’m kidding!

The python was in a compartment on a long trailer that included many other snakes and lizards. Among them was this gorgeous albino Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox.
Aberrations like this don’t usually survive long in the wild, but they make excellent ambassadors for their species in an educational venue.

Most of the animals in the show were in plain enclosures that facilitate easy cleaning and optimal viewing by the public (no place for the reptile to hide). This did not make for the best photo ops, but I was happy to get some of the results I did given the obvious “in captivity” look, smudges on the glass from countless children’s noses and hands, and often poor lighting. Still, a King Cobra, Ophiophagus Hannah, has an overwhelming presence in any setting.

A couple of small crocodilians and an enormous Alligator Snapping Turtle complemented the snakes, but it was the vipers that I found most amazing. Take this Mangshan Pit Viper, Trimeresurus mangshanensis, for example. Found only on Mt. Mang in the Hunan Province of China, it is literally “something you don’t see every day.”

Likewise, this bright yellow example of an Eyelash Viper, Bothriechis schlegelii, is best encountered behind glass in a nicely-landscaped terrarium, as opposed to wrapped around a branch at eye-level along a jungle trail in Central or South America.

There are more images of other snakes over at my Flickr photostream. I’d like to thank my friend Leigh Anne DelRay for reminding me of the show to begin with, and sharing the experience with me last Saturday. I encourage everyone to visit their own local reptile show and take a friend or young person with them. It can make a lasting impression to come face-to-face with native and exotic wildlife at such events.

Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake

A little Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake, Lampropeltis pyromelana, may be the most striking (no pun intended) reptile find of my life thus far. This beautiful serpent was hiding under a slab of bark on a stump at Middle Bear along the Mount Lemmon Highway in the Santa Catalina Mountains just north of Tucson. I was there with MJ Epps on May 26, 2010, just before her departure for the summer. Thank you, Mary Jane, for holding the snake so gently while I took pictures.

The only other specimen of this snake that I have ever seen is one held in captivity by another friend, Pat Sullivan, in Sierra Vista. His is definitely an adult, whereas this “wild” one was just a youngster.

The bold black, white, and red color pattern on this species is obviously meant to mimic the markings of the venomous Sonoran Coralsnake, Micruroides euryxanthus. There are many mnemonic devices used to differentiate the two, or at least kingnsakes and coralsnakes in general. The one that I remember from childhood is:

Red and yellow kill a fellow,
Red and black, venom lack.

The color reference denotes the sequence of bands. Kingsnakes have red markings adjacent to black bands. Coralsnakes have red markings meeting yellow (or ivory) bands. No, it is not always easy to make the distinction when the serpent is moving at a high rate of speed and making its escape into a burrow or other inaccessible retreat.

Pine forests in middle and high elevations (3,000 to 9,000 feet) of the “sky islands” of southeast Arizona seem to be a good habitat for this species. It is a day-active reptile capable of climbing trees to feast on nestling birds. Its diet also includes lizards, rodents, and occasionally bats. It kills by constricting its prey with ever-tightening coils of its body. At up to 43 inches in length, it is a fairly sizable snake as an adult.

The Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake does hibernate during the cooler months in autumn and winter, and reproduces in late spring and early summer. Females lay clutches of two to nine eggs in June or early July, the hatchlings appearing in late July or August.

Besides Arizona, this snake ranges into Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, and Mexico.

I grew up in Oregon, and I remember wanting very much to find a California Mountain Kingsnake, Lampropeltis zonata up there. Well, finding this little fella (gal?) might just make up for that childhood wish.

Aravaipa Canyon

I am terribly behind in documenting places I have been this year. Way back on May 16, 2010, I had the pleasure of visiting Aravaipa Canyon in Pinal County, Arizona with my good friend Margarethe Brummermann and three visitors from elsewhere. Yen Saw was visiting from Texas, and Christian Ludwig came over from Germany. Mike McNichols came from next door: New Mexico. The heat was a bit too much for Yen and Mike, so they elected to depart in the early afternoon, but a good time was had by all before and after our party split.

A good portion of Aravaipa Canyon is a wilderness area managed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in the United States Department of the Interior. It is closed to motor vehicles, with hikers forced to wade in the creek through the narrower portions of the canyon. The remainder of the canyon is mostly privately-held land and one trespasses at their own risk.

Our party had barely entered the lower reaches of the canyon when our caravan came to a screeching halt in front of a large Gophersnake, Pituophis catenifer stretched across the road. It was a truly magnificent reptile, and we were able to get multiple images before and after it attempted its retreat.

Actually, it retreated a bit too far for my tastes, looping a coil up my pant leg. Having encountered a rattlesnake the week before, I was a little bit edgy; and a whole lot embarrassed by the serpent’s affection.

Yen and Mike were looking mostly for mantids, and at this time of the year in Arizona most of those predatory insects are in immature stages, quite small and difficult to detect. Ground mantids in the genus Litaneutria can be found as adults, however. Mike also knows ants quite well, and he helped Christian find several colonies of different species. Margarethe was literally beating the bushes for beetles, and I was seeking photo ops for anything I could find in the quickly withering landscape.

Mike and Yen headed back to their hotel in Tucson after finding a dead cow. Their discovery and departure had nothing to do with one another.

Margarethe, Christian and I then continued up the canyon, finally coming to shadier and cooler places by the creek. As we pulled into our final stop along the road, a Common Black-Hawk took off from a low perch in a tree, the black and white bands of its tail both startling and exciting us.

By now, in late afternoon, the wind had picked up and the gusty conditions made photography more difficult. So did the dim sunlight under the tall cottonwoods. Still, we enjoyed seeing creatures like bombardier beetles (Brachinus) and Rubyspot damselflies.

We turned around in the parking area at the entrance to the wilderness area, and were treated to spectacular rimrock views. I look forward to visiting again, and hopefully walking the wilderness area. Aravaipa Canyon is certainly a gem in a state full of truly magnificent landscapes and natural attractions.

Many thanks to Margarethe for the transportation, and to Yen, Christian, and Mike for sharing their own knowledge of insects. I’m already counting the days until they visit again.

NOTE: Special thanks to Yen Saw for letting me use the image of Margarethe, and the one of the group. We are, from left to right: Yen Saw, myself, Margarethe Brummermann, Mike McNichols, and Christian Ludwig.

Happy New (Herp) Year

I had the pleasure of starting the new year among friends congregated at the Sierra Vista, Arizona home of Pat Sullivan and Lisa Lee. I got to make some new friends, too, including some of the cold-blooded variety.

Pat Sullivan has a wonderful collection of pinned insects, especially scarab beetles (see ”Bug Rooms”), but he also keeps a handful of live snakes. You can’t help but be captivated by such colorful serpents as this kingsnake.

The last time I saw Pat he had sworn-off keeping venomous reptiles, but he had two on display this time. One was a truly lovely specimen of a sidewinder.
The other was a small but beautiful black-tailed rattlesnake. I have to admit I have a real fascination with the pit vipers, but have a healthy respect, too. I happen to be allergic to horses, from which antivenin is produced. Should I ever be bitten by a rattlesnake I would be in serious trouble! Behind the glass of a terrarium they can be admired closely, but safely.

Among the human guests I met was Bev Wigney, a very accomplished nature photographer who has some of her spectacular insect images in my Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America. We had corresponded over the internet, but it was serendipitous that we wound up meeting in person at the New Year’s party. Bev spends a good deal of time in Bisbee, Arizona, as well as in her home country of Canada. Be sure to check out her own blog, Journey to the Center.

After a night of eating, trading stories, and midnight toasting, some of us tucked ourselves in there at Pat and Lisa’s for the remainder of the night. This was the view I awoke to the next morning. What a way to start the year. I hope that your year starts as sweetly, and that you find 2010 to be exciting and prosperous, but also stress-free.

Black Racer

My friend Lynn Harper and I happened upon one of the more regal of New England reptiles on Saturday, September 26, while taking a walk through the Montague Plains Wildlife Management area in Franklin County, Massachusetts . The northern black racer, Coluber constrictor, is normally quick to flee from the slightest disturbance, but this snake was an exception.

Strolling down the sandy trail I froze in my tracks when I spotted the serpent. So did Lynn. So did the racer. We all seemed mesmerized by each other. I did manage to bring my camera up to try and get an image, and despite the obligatory foliage between me and most of my photographic subjects, I got off a few respectable shots.

Black racers are not uncommon this far north (they even range into southern Maine), but the best observation one usually gets is a glimpse of a shiny black snake slithering quickly out of view. They are known to occasionally take refuge among branches and other vegetation, but in my experience they seem to vanish into thin air, or at least down some unseen rodent burrow.

I was also taken aback by the size of the snake. At first I thought it might be a black rat snake, but that species is state-listed as endangered in Massachusetts, and it does not frequent the dry habitat of the Montague Plains. Racers range between thirty and sixty inches, or 90-150 centimeters. This specimen was on the upper end of the spectrum. I am more familiar with the smaller, blue-gray or yellowish brown versions of this species that can be found in Oregon.

As I moved behind Lynn to try and get a better angle for photographing it, the snake began to test the air with its tongue in earnest. It turned and beat its retreat, vibrating its tail as many harmless snakes are wanton to do in imitation of venomous rattlesnakes. As suddenly as it had appeared it slipped away through the swishing dry grass.