Nose to nose with a California Giant Salamander.
California has it all. Well almost all. Except for what they don’t have. But if its caudatan diversity you’re interested in, California is definitely a state you should consider visiting. Newts, Lunged salamanders and Lungless salamanders all may be found there. Some are colorful, some are drab. Some are tiny, some are comparatively large. All are interesting.

One of the groups that I find of great interest are the Giant Salamanders of the genus Dicamptodon (family Dicamptodontidae). Of the 4 species 2 dwell in California’s cool, moist forestlands. These are The California and the Pacific Giant Salamanders, D. ensatus and D. tenebrosus, respectively. Both are hefty, and both top out at just about a foot in length, with tenebrosus perhaps being a bit more slender, a tiny bit shorter, having a proportionately smaller head and shorter limbs. This latter is also a bit darker in color. The former, the California Giant, is the southernmore of the 2, ranging southward in the Coast Range from southern Mendocino County to western Glenn County. The Pacific Giant ranges northward from Glenn County to southwest British Columbia, Canada.

Populations of both of these big nocturnal salamanders are adversely affected by foresting practices that leave stream banks unprotected, subject to drying, and the streams themselves subject to warming. Although both of these salamanders are variably colored, neither is brightly colored. Ground color of both is tan to light brown with well-defined reticulations and spots of reddish brown to dark brown. They breed in streams and creeks and the aquatic larvae may take several years to metamorphose.

Prey includes invertebrates such as worms and slugs as well as vertebrate prey such as smaller salamanders.

This coachwhip caused a scream, a screeching stop, and a marathon run. But it was worth it.At scream volume “---S T O P!!!!!!!!!! ---.“ Yep, Jake had managed to scare me again. I was in the passing lane doing about 65, about halfway past a slower car, when Jake yelled. Fortunately there was no one following tightly so I slammed on the brakes and before I stopped Jake was out of the car running east while we were heading west. I parked on the verge, clambered out and back about 50 yards Jake was stationed in the grass trying to decide what the snake he had seen and I had missed on the side of the road was going to do.

Hurry screamed Jake. Hmppphhh. Not likely. My days of hurrying are long gone. But I WAS closer now. Go out on the road and try to prevent it from crossing. It’s a coachwhip—a PINK coachwhip!

Now I understood. We had seen but failed to catch or even photo pink coachwhips on our last 3 trips to or through Texas. Suddenly I felt Jake’s excitement. I do love racers and racer relatives.

So I limped out in the road and rather than watching me the big snake was now watching me. Then it turned it’s head towards Jake and started to move. In an instant Jake was airborne.In anotjhert instant he was flat on his belly in the grass and sandspurs. And in a 3rd instant he was screaming OWWWWWCH! GET IT! Certainly no problem now because he alresdyu had the snake at midbody and the snake had him by the eyebrow. Interesting dilemma. I wondered which would win?

But heck I wanted to photo the snake as badly as Jake did, so I grabbed it before it decided to swallow Jake and the snake immediately transferred its attention to my arm. Oh well. It was worth it.

Right Jake?

And I guess it might have been because another 5 miles down the road we had a similar but a bit less bitey encounter with a second pink coachwhip.

I was so impressed with these snakes that I did something that I haven’t done in a long while. I decided that if Jake didn’t wish to retain the snake I would like to keep them. Jake didn’t, I did.

But here’s what I didn’t expect. Once home and caged these 2 adult coachwhips proved dog tame. The first time I fed them both slowly left the hidebox, came to cage top, and gently took each thawed mouse from my fingers. No biting, no striking. And both have continued to do so on each feeding attempt. Now I’m excitedly awaiting their next shed. They should be knockouts.

Banded Geckos look a lot more delicate than they actually are. This is a San Diego Banded Gecko.

Counting species and subspecies there are 7 forms of banded geckos, genus Coleonyx, in the American West. Two of these, the Barefoot, C. switaki, and the Reticulated C. reticulatus, are larger than the remaining 5 and have very limited ranges. One, the Texas, C. brevis, is the easternmost and is smaller than any of the others. It is the remaining 4, all subspecies of the wide ranging Western Banded Gecko, C. variegatus, that we shall mention here. All have elliptical pupils and are nocturnal. The body is slender and between 2 and 3 inches long. The original tail (the tail is easily autotomized and often in some stage of regeneration) is about the same length as the snout-to-vent. Original tails are prominently banded.

The 4 subspecies of the Western Banded Gecko that occur in the USA are the San Diego, C. v. abbotti, the Tucson, C. v. bogerti, the Utah, C.v. utahensis, and the Desert, C. v. variegatus. Appearance differences are slight and it is best if you are interested in a particular form that you check a field guide for ranges.

Generally speaking though, the San Diego subspecies occurs on the Pacific slopes of southern CA. The Tucson form may be encountered in seAZ and swNM, the Utah race is restricted to swUT and immediately adjacent NV and AZ, and the Desert, by far the most wide-ranging of the 4, is found over much of AZ, NV and eastern CA.

Although these little geckos may be found beneath surface debris such as wood, cardboard, and rock by day, I’ve always found it a lot more fun to road hunt them at night. They are active, their light color contrasts well with dark pavement, and they cross roads in a series of darting rushes, often with their tail curled up over their back, this initially giving them the appearance of a large scorpion. Keep this similarity in mind as you jam your car into park, slam open the door, and rush out to slap a cupped hand of the little creature on the road. It’s not pleasant to be painfully surprised!

The most variable and arguably the prettiest of the three, this is a male Eastern Box Turtle.
The USA is fortunate in being home to 6 rather distinct box turtles, 2 in the Terrapene ornata group, and 4 in the T. carolina group. The latter 4 are the Eastern, Terrapene c. carolina, the Gulf Coast, T. c. major, the Three-toed, T. c. triunguis, and the Florida, T. c. bauri. Since we chatted about the Florida Box turtle just last month, we’ll exempt it from this blog. That leaves us with the 3 subspecies that are most similar in appearance, even if the most diverse in coloration, with the Eastern race being especially so.. These three have carapaces that are high-domed, may be flattened dorsally, and except for the slightly more elongate Gulf Coast subspecies, are rather round when viewed from above. Collectively they range from southern Maine, south to southern Georgia then westward to eastern Kansas and east Texas. Hatchlings are flatter and lack the hinged plastron for which this genus is famous.

From west to east we come first to the Three-toed subspecies. It is also the most uniformly colored of the three, its carapace usually being of some shade of brown to olive brown, with or without lighter dots and dashes. The face is variably adorned with orange and white, sometimes extensively so.

In southeastern AL the Three-toed Box Turtle intergrades with the largest of the subspecies, the Gulf Coast Box Turtle. In its purist form (Mobile Bay and the Florida Panhandle), this latter subspecies is big (to 8 ½”), often has a rather flat-topped carapace, and when adult is quite dark—blackish brown-- in color. Old males may develop white patches on the face. Younger examples and intergrades are often light brownish-red.

Finally, we come to the most variable in overall appearance, the Eastern Box Turtle. It may be found east of the Mississippi River and north of Florida to the East Coast. Carapace, legs, and head are brown, but the markings on all, varying from few to profuse, may be yellow to bright orange. The latter produces a truly beautiful little chelonian.