To Everything There Is a Season…

First off, to those who read Field Ventures on a regular basis – allow me to apologize for the half a year silence. In that time I’ve been doing a lot of work (two jobs), traveling, and most importantly, welcoming my daughter, Chava Elizabeth, into the world and making the first steps in parenting. Although I’m a conservationist, I don’t jive with many that see humans as an inherent problem and who scold reproduction – we humans are capable of doing some terrible things to nature, but we also have a capacity to care for and restore it that is completely different and unparalleled in the animal kingdom – so having children and teaching them to live well as good stewards of the life and Earth they’ve been given is of utmost importance to me. All that aside, be looking for new Field Ventures post that should be upcoming on a more regular basis, with more experiences from the field, flashlight and other gear reviews, and all sorts of other stuff. Also, if you’re a herper, biologist or nature lover out there, Field Ventures would love to have YOU as a guest or regular blogger. We can’t pay anything, but we can give you an audience to educate and share in your passion for getting in the field. Email for more information!

Having just moved from the two-season South Floridian weather (wet/dry season), the seasons here are wondrous to me – an amazing cycle of birth, growth, death and rebirth every year speaks to some of life’s fundamental truths. My herping season doesn’t really have to end because of salamander’s tolerance for extremely cold weather, but it really ‘heats up’ in March – and this is when I started finding many salamanders on the road with the rains, especially welcomed were the vibrant Red and Spring Salamanders:

Red Salamander (Pseudotriton ruber)

Blue Ridge Spring Salamander (Gyrinophilus porphyriticus danielsi)

Of course, dipnetting is a good way to see some cool critters:

Seepage Stream with dipnet.

Desmognathus conanti

The weather steadily got warmer and warmer from April on, and it wasn’t long before scaled ones began to make their appearances:

Northern x Southern Copperhead (Agkistrodon contortrix contortrix x A. c. mokasen)

From there, things just kept getting warmer. I got out a little bit locally, but seldom broke out my camera for a long photo session – but either way, snakes, frogs, toads and salamanders were out and active, but as the summer continued the oppressive heat suppressed the salamander movement for the end of July and most of August. It was the age of snakes, and most nights yielded several individuals coupled with oppressive humidity – the kind that fogs up ones glasses instantly after stepping out of the car.

Amazingly though, the end of August began to produce nights that started to cool down to an almost chilly level. What sorcery is this? Sure enough, by the beginning of September some nights were getting downright cold. And so Fall came to western North Carolina. And with the return of the equinox came the resurgence of salamander movement, including dozens of these Bat Cave variants of the Yonahlossee Salamander (AKA “Crevice Salamanders”) in the proper locations:

Crevice Salamander (Plethodon yonahlossee, Bat Cave variant)

And others made their appearance. A typical drive at a road near my house:

Spotted Salamander (Ambystoma maculatum)

Desmognathus conanti

Eastern Newt (Notophthalmus viridescens)

Blue Ridge Two Lined Salamander (Eurycea wilderae)

But all good things come to an end, and the frost begins to threaten regularly in my little corner of the world – and it leaves me to sit, dream, and await the rebirth that is the Spring.

Thinking of the things that might live in places like this montane wetland will surely get me through winter’s icy grip…

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Posted by on 05/11/2015 in Uncategorized


Clarkii by County: Lee County

     Posts of western North Carolina interest will be coming over the summer at some point, but let’s tie up some loose ends from Florida. Clarkii – with the cold winter, this post is as much for reminiscing on my part as it is educating.


So, Lee County – despite the long drive from my former residence, this county was a really enjoying place for herping – the gulf coast doesn’t suffer the same degradation as the east coast so good herping spots are abundant, especially for clarkii. Interestingly, true salt marsh habitat (instead of mangrove swamp) comes down much farther south on the gulf coast and Lee county boasts quite a few good examples with dotted with the occasional black mangrove. On one area on the mainland, many dark black and green individuals can be found:



And in nearby retention ponds, Florida Watersnake/Mangrove Snake hybrids are common despite the fact that the ponds themselves are saline:


But some of the islands off the coast in Lee county boast some impressive habitat, with just as impressive clarkii to match them. The habitat consists of interesting lagoons lined with mangroves, sandy bottomed with seagrass. The clarkii there were reds, yellows, tans and salt & pepper. I have only herped these lagoons once with Dr. Chesnes, but it was a exhilarating experience – we had been herping long into the night without any luck. We were tired and mildly disappointed, but our disappointment quickly turned when we found the first one laying in wait among some marsh grass. It’s one of those herping sites that gets etched into your memory and fills you with that warm-fuzzy feeling – what a cool area!




9  7 68

More to come – once again, be sure to check out my article on Mangrove Snakes in an upcoming issue of Herp Nation!


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Posted by on 06/04/2015 in Uncategorized


An Ambitious Year

Hello folks,

It’s been a long time without posting – but not without good reasons. I’ve got a little girl on the way (due in early May), we just moved to the mountains of Western NC, just bought a new/used car, and I just started two new jobs. But Field Ventures will keep going (and hopefully with some more authors) with field reports, gear reviews, and everything else except with a little more temperate herpetofauna slant. If you’re interested in writing for FV, let me know.

Despite all this business, I haven’t been idle. At the beginning of January I got out with a friend, Cary, and we went looking for the exquisitely beautiful Eastern Tiger Salamander (Ambystoma tigrinum), and had great success early on:

IMG_3351 copy IMG_3349 IMG_3338


As we continued on that day and evening, we found both the marbled salamander (Ambystoma opacum, forgive the poor photo quality):


As well as the Mole Salamander (A. talpoideum):

IMG_3353 IMG_3364

‘Wow,’ I thought to myself, ‘3 of 4 Ambystoma in the region (central GA) in one evening! wouldn’t it be cool to find the fourth, the Spotted Salamander (A. maculatum)? Well, I parted ways with Cary and began the 4-hour return drive. The rains picked up and what did I see crossing my path?


The missing Ambystoma!


I’ve always appreciated the genus Ambystoma before, but on the long drive I began to contemplate: Wouldn’t it be cool to see them all? Well, money is prohibitive to get to the western US, but what about the Ambystoma east of the Mississippi? In addition to the ones I’d found already, that would leave the Jefferson’s Salamander, the Blue-Spotted Salamander, The Mabees Salamander, Streamside Salamander, Smallmouth Salamander, two species of Flatwoods Salamander, and one or two hybrid species. Why not give it a shot?

So, within a few weeks I visited a good friend for an evening in western KY, and he put me on the Streamside Salamander (A. barbouri):


And last week, I went east (with a little help) to find A. mabeei.:

IMG_3709 IMG_3698

6 species down, 5(ish) species to go!


Posted by on 16/02/2015 in Uncategorized


Clarkii by County: Northern Monroe

Continuing on our tour of Nerodia clarkii variation in Florida – let’s go a little south to northern Monroe County. I’m dividing the county into two because the Keys are a long string of island, and there’s some differences in clarkii variation between the upper and lower Keys. Once again, all this is in anticipation of an upcoming issue on Mangrove Saltmarsh Snakes in Herp Nation Magazine, Issue 18.


The Keys have what is potentially the most robust populations of Mangrove Snakes in Florida – This is probably due to a mixture of an abundance of habitat that is relatively competitor free – the Keys are free of the iron fist of the Florida Watersnake, which is a superior competitor and keeps clarkii from penetrating very far inland. Being Florida Watersnake free also prevents the hybridization issue I talked about in my last post. So just how abundant can clarkii be? Here are the results of about an hour of searching with a couple of research assistants:

Bucket o' clarkii

And the story gets even more amazing – a friend of mine boasts of finding more than 100 clarkii in a single evening of searching.

As you can see, a lot of the Keys clarkii are drab in color:



but you’ might also notice some muted copper colors in there – these colors will typically show up very well on the venter.


And some individuals also show copper blotches vibrantly on the dorsum:



A good many of the individuals in the upper Keys are brown in base color, but it’s not uncommon to see other colors as well, including a lovely gray hue –




And as always, the red coloration turns up now and again – I find one once every ten snakes or so in the Keys:



This coloration is not always a solid blood red, but sometimes will include muted yellows and such. I was previously under the assumption that the coloration/pattern ‘fades’ to solid red as they mature, but I’ve seen some blatantly-adult individuals that defy this assumption. Below you can see the same adult, but the pattern/color variation is a little easier to see. IMG_1027


And with so many snakes, they can be potentially found anywhere in the Keys – this is one of the few localities that I’ve herped personally where seeing them in the trees at night is a possible good searching method…. These following two shots are in situ (though I’ve spent hours trying to pose clarkii similarly on other occasions. I personally prefer it when they do it on their own.)







And a few other odds and ends to round off the northern reaches of the county, including some feeding shots. Unlike in nearby ENP where hiking seems to be useless, I’ve found the vast majority of my Keys clarkii hiking in shallow-watered mangrove swamps.


Feeding on a minnow:





That’s all for North Monroe – more to come! I just added a “Like” button on the right, so be sure to “Like” Field Ventures on Facebook. And Don’t forget to check out issue 18 of Herp Nation Magazine, coming out in a few months for my article on Mangrove Saltmarsh Snakes (


Clarkii By County: Miami-Dade

In anticipation of an upcoming article on the Salt Marsh Snake (Nerodia clarkii) in Herp Nation Magazine Issue #18, and the (hopefully) near completion of the data-gathering phase of my research on clarkii in southern Florida, I’m going to review some of my experiences with the species. Instead of a smattering of stream-of-conscious ideas and such, I’ve decided it would be interesting to systematically review what I know of the species in every Florida County I’ve come across them in. For my readership, I think the interest will be in the fact that a.) the foraging and movement ecology of clarkii seems to be different on a local level, in other words they simply act different in nearly every county; and also the pattern and coloration is extremely variable across their range (more elaboration in future postings, and of course the upcoming Herp Nation Magazine article.) So sit back, relax, enjoy.

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Let us begin from the familiar: Dade County – Everglades National Park. Yes, there are other sites in Dade from which to view clarkii, but ENP is rife with them and many herpers have seen the species there. For this reason, I’m sorry to inform you that if you’ve seen clarkii in ENP, you may not have seen clarkii. From our work so far, we’ve encountered 19 Nerodia clarkii-like animals there, of which sixteen have been hybrids between N. clarkii and the Florida Watersnake, N. fasciata, and only three have been pure clarkii. This is one of the interesting things about the species: they readily hybridize with Florida Watersnakes, especially in large-scale mixing zones such as the Everglades. Our work initially began in ENP where we were testing the use of traps for detecting clarkii. Without giving away the data, the interesting tidbit about clarkii at this population is that road cruising seems to be the best way to come across them, and it also seems to be one of the only productive ways to turn them up. Of course I’m not saying it’s impossible to hike them up in ENP, they certainly forage, eat and live outside of the roadways. However, perhaps because of the dense mangroves with extremely deep mud that makes the habitat difficult to search, or perhaps because they forage at different times or in different manners from other populations, we found only a single clarkii by hiking, despite much time spent looking. (And full disclosure: the clarkii we hiked was on a right-of-way, meaning it would’ve been road cruised in seconds had we not already been out of the car.)

Dr. Chesnes checking a trap for clarkii

Dr. Chesnes checking a trap for clarkii


Now on to the variation. Holding with their hybrid nature, most of the clarkii encountered in ENP are banded in some way:

Pure clarkii:

15263277375_149118d244_z clarkii x fasciata:

8737089472_6c2c5caeb1_zPure clarkii:


clarkii x fasciata:  8737101614_ea45180a5e_z

However, occasionally one will look a little more classic clarkii (not that I know what that is, and I can’t seem to find a great picture of one.) And it seems that the red trait is not a recessive one even when fasciata is in the mix, and hybrids will still often turn up with a clarkii bloodred coloration: this individual was a clarkii x fasciata:




That’s all for this segment, in the weeks ahead we’ll take a gander at Indian River, St. Lucie, northern and southern Monroe, Collier and Lee Counties – and maybe, just maybe a new county record or two. Don’t forget to check out issue 18 of Herp Nation Magazine, coming out in a few months for my article on Mangrove Saltmarsh Snakes (



NOTE: This research on Nerodia clarkii was partially funded by a Palm Beach Atlantic University Quality Initiative Grant, so many thanks to them. To help us continue our last few months of research, please consider making a small donation to Field Ventures



New Section: Field Ventures Photography

Hello all;


Field Ventures now has a new section with some of the photography seen here for sale – the proceeds from the sales go towards reptile and amphibian research (currently, Mangrove Salt Marsh Snake research) – check the page out here: or on the tab at the top of the page.




Posted by on 22/08/2014 in Uncategorized


Welcome To Florida

It had been a long, exciting night in Everglades National Park. Road cruising had been good to us that evening – nearly every afternoon for the past two months had been mired in rain, which is oftentimes a kiss-of-death for roadcruising in southern Florida. This night, however, was dry, warm and of overcast skies to obscure a big moon. I surmised that it should be a great night, and it was: so far we were at 22 snakes, including one hatchling Python – fresh out of the egg caught down near Flamingo. Tom, Dermot, Eric and I were crammed into my car and neither Dermot nor Eric had the pleasure of cruising up and laying hands on a wild python, so it was a fun and exciting night already.


So we were continuing on, noticing a set of taillights up ahead. Typical etiquette in ENP in the depths of a summer night is to stop and talk to any other herpers you see (and trust me, if someone’s there braving the mosquitoes between July and September it’s probably a herper.) Well, consequently the taillights turned into break lights, so we drove up to say hello and see if they’d turned up something interesting. As we rolled up, I noticed there were two vehicles off to the side, and a small gaggle of people in the road. One of them appeared to have a snake in his hand, but I couldn’t yet see what species it was as the scene was bathed in headlights from vehicles and my eyes hadn’t adjusted. Naturally though I assumed it was a python since that is the only snake species that a lot of people have Letters of Authorization to search for in the Everglades. True, one can obtain a permit to study any other species occurring in the park if they have a legitimate study need and do the proper paperwork, but I know most of the other folks who have permits for that kind of stuff, and these folks were certainly not any of them. So, the gentleman with the snake walked closer to the window, and as my eyes finally adjusted I saw that he did not have a python in his hands. Not even close: his fingers were wrapped around the neck and head of a two foot Florida Cottonmouth.


In my mind, I was running through a mental checklist of everything that was wrong with this situation:


Handling wildlife in the park: Illegal without a permit…


Possessing a venomous snake in Florida: Illegal without a permit…


Handling a venomous snake by pinning the head: Irresponsible, both in terms of the likelihood that he’ll get bitten and the fact that the cottonmouth looks like its head might pop off at any minute.


But, fortunately, I’ve been blessed with the ability to carry on a conversation while completely distracted.


“How’s it going?” I asked.


“Oh doing ok, are you guys out looking for snakes?”




“Nice, any luck?”


“A little bit, 22 snakes so far.”


A dismayed look came over his face, “Really? Man, we’ve only found three Cottonmouths tonight, no non-venomous at all.”


A wave of incredulous bewilderment came over me. If this was their third Moccasin of the night and this fellow was squeezing its head like the last bit of toothpaste in the tube; what horrors had the first two been subject to?


Oh well, the matter at hand: “Well, if you didn’t pick up every Cottonmouth you saw, you might get a chance to see some of those non-venomous snakes on the road.”


Snickers from girls with him. I try my best not to be a jerk to people, but in the current situation my comment was really the least of the options running through my head.


“No, no,” he pleaded, “I’ve been doing this all my life, I have a lot of experience working with venomous snakes.” He looked about 25 or 30.


“You don’t say.”


“Yeah… Have you guys seen any pythons tonight?”


“Yeah, one hatchling.”


I know the frustration of being out in the Everglades and not turning up the target python, so I offered to show it to the group, despite my misgivings about the ringleader.


We threw on our caution flashers, got out of the car and walked to the back, where I grabbed the bagged up python and got it out.


“Yeah,” said the one with the Cottonmouth, “my friend and I are out here showing ‘the Adventure Girls’ some of the Everglades’ snakes, we’re hoping to see some nonvenomous.”


It was only then that I noticed the assortment of folk that were standing in the road. Initially there were only 3 or 4 of them, but now they emerged from the two vehicles that had evidently been crammed full as clown cars: ten, twelve people now stood around us in a clumped gaggle. The group, I noticed, looked like they’d just emerged from an 80s rock music video: the Cottonmouth wrangler had acid wash jeans, a beater shirt with armholes going down to his waist and forearm tattoos that the fog of war has since scoured from my memory. The “Adventure Girls” had a diverse wardrobe – many wore tights: some pink, some giraffe print; and at least one wore a rag of an open-sided Whitesnake t-shirt (appropriate, I guess?), and a bikini underneath. The clouds of mosquitoes around us had me thinking that either they were all doused in enough DEET to kill a man, or the huge quantities of exposed skin among the group was going to be red and welted ere long.


Master Moccasin told his group how Pythons were an invasive species, etc., and all while the Cottonmouth was in his clutches, and we were about ready to depart. But before we did, he had some more questions for us:


“Hey, do you know Cobra Carl?”

Inaudible groan from me.


“No, ‘fraid not: I know Boomslang Bobby and Rattlesnake Rachel though.” Ok, maybe I shouldn’t have said that…


“No, he’s a legitimate herpetologist.”


Ok, joking aside, “ahh, no sorry, I usually don’t hang out with people with snake names in front of their names.”


By this time, the poor Adventure Girls even saw the danger both the snake and the guy were in because of his irresponsible handling, so we decided that was a good opportunity to mosey.


“Anyways, good luck, have a good evening.”


The group thanked us for the close-ups of the python and we hopped in the car. We slid away, and were silent for 3 or 4 seconds of deep contemplation… and then an eruption of laughter.


“Did that really just happen?” someone said. I wasn’t quite certain myself, it was a surreal moment. I considered calling the Park Service, but I was pretty sure they weren’t collecting anything, so there’d be no evidence of his lawbreaking. We slid down the lonely road, finally exiting the park where a lone, big Cottonmouth was crossing. I looked back and saw familiar headlights coming fast. I jumped out of the car, snake hook in hand, and flung the snake as far as I could off the road: somewhat crude methodology, and I’d have chastised myself in any other situation for such flippancy with a snake. But those headlights were coming on quick. If the snake knew, he would have thanked me.



This hatchling Burmese python was the least strange sight of the night.

This hatchling Burmese python was the least strange sight of the night.


Posted by on 12/08/2014 in Tales From the Field


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