Milksnakes on the Plains

Milksnake

Milksnake in Mark's Hand

For most people, the July 4th weekend means fireworks and barbecue.   When you are married to a herpetologist, searching for snakes is part of the festivities.  On a hot summer day, I enjoy milkshakes.  My husband Mark enjoys milksnakes.

Excerpt from Mark's journal for July 5, 2015

The Spring rains nourished the sand dune country of Roggen, Colorado, home to milksnakes, green racers, bullsnakes, six lined racerunners, prairie rattlesnakes, and box turtles. Going into the Fourth, the rains weren’t heavy, but I was determined to find a milksnake, lampropeltis triangulum, subspecies-multistriata. Telling Jeanie about my Roggen sand hill adventure, she was worried that I would be kidnapped by aliens, hit by an Amtrak train, drive off the road, or die of heat stroke. So she accompanied me to Roggen, little more than a granary station two hours north of Denver. She sat in an overheated truck next to the highway while I hiked the sandy terrain of [my son] Isaiah’s youth. 

Note from me:  I was concerned about him herping by himself, but he is slightly exaggerating.  I never mentioned aliens, but Roggen would be a good flat place for them to land.

The habitat was drier than expected, and the Burlington Northern Railroad had ripped the soil on both sides of the tracks for twenty yards. The huge clawed ripper disturbed kangaroo tunnels, box turtle homes, and the sandy trails supporting the two local lizards-the prairie lizard (Sceloporus garmani-a cutie), and the green tropical looking six-lined race runner. 

A bit disheartened, I hiked to my area of snakey success. By my figuring, I’ve caught and photographed three generations of milksnakes by a particular blue and white car door. My first was a juvenile milksnake, red-white-and orange banded, which fit in the middle of my palm, and was my first milksnake ever. Years later, I caught and photographed another one, and today, I photographed the great grandson of them all. Peering through a dilapidated plywood hole, I spotted a banded beauty moving below me. With a rehearsed routine, I flipped the board and caught the multistriata milksnake before it had a chance to escape down his hidey hole.

             

My trophy milksnake was photographed in hand, in my straw hat, in a green butterfly net, and against his native sandy soil. The snake often tried to escape, but a little tap near his black snout, and I was able to force him into a photogenic coil. Milksnakes make great photographic subjects, and I was glad to find another member of the family tree. He was returned safely to his hidey hole beneath the plywood. 

Milksnake in Mark's Hat

We spotted a large jackrabbit bounding through the yucca and sage. If you’re accustomed to viewing yard bunnies, a jack rabbit looks like a huge animal. With ears shooting upward, the jack rabbit bounded in enormous strides over the sandy terrain until it was out of sight. This was a particular treat since jack rabbits haven’t been spotted in this part of Colorado. At least, not to my knowledge. We’ve never seen them in Roggen before. 

Note from me:  I  wish that we had gotten a photo of the jackrabbit.  It was almost the size of a jackalope.

Jackalope
Source:  rememberingletters.wordpress.com

Heeding Jeanie’s advice, we relocated to Barr Lake, home to mating pairs of Bald Eagle. Walking the boardwalk, we saw yellow warblers, white American pelicans, mallard ducks, and a juvenile Northern Harrier. Water saturated cottonwoods provide a heronry to the Great Blue Heron, and other nesting birds. I’ve seen a few Blue Heron along the South Platte, but a large male sported a wingspan exceeding six feet.  It’s been a while for me, but I spotted a male Bullock’s Oriole in breeding colors. Somewhat reminiscent of the Baltimore Oriole, they are a striking orange color. 

Barr Lake

Don’t worry, Jeanie enjoyed the boardwalk, and was later rewarded for her efforts. We dined at Chili’s to enjoy some air conditioning and food. She was glad to return to civilization, knowing that aliens had not kidnapped me, the Amtrak train missed me, and I managed not to drive into a lonesome ditch.

Note from me:  It was an adventure, and it made Mark very happy.