We needed more snakes.
Having long been incensed by TV nature shows repeated claim that “snakes see poorly”, absent a shred of data upon the topic, we had begun an evoked potential study of the visual acuity of the snake that was easiest to come by – banded water snakes. Using Tim’s set up we had done a few experiments with water snakes captured the previous Fall. The arrival of an NSF summer undergraduate, Sheena, had exhausted our water snake stock so it was off to the creek to get some more.
Much lore and some data from nighttime road hunting suggested snakes were not out-and-about much under a full moon. A side effect of this suppression of snake ‘walkabouts’ was not apparent until we saw some data. To wit, if they are hold-up under a full moon then they will make up for lost time after a full moon. And though the moon be fullish and bright the nights immediately after it is full, it rises progressively later each night! Thus, by three nights after a full moon there is an early period of no moon; and snakes are anxious to get back in business.
Shades Creek at the end of Monarch Drive is full of minnows, pretty good sun, but not many ‘snake rocks’. They had to be more abundant than daytime trips revealed. Plus it is shallow, sandy bottomed, in town and you can literally drive into the creek so parking was close in case anybody ‘cracked’. In short, the perfect place to take a motley group ranging from the fairly sawed-off (Bob the veterinarian who raised leopard geckos), to two NSF summer undergraduates (Sheena and her roommate, Sonja) through two geeks (Tim and Mark). Mark, the fMRI foreman, was the least prepared for the events that unfolded. We bumped into him in the parking lot before kick-off. He says “what’s up”? We says “we’re going snake hunting, wanna come?” Mark says “neat”. I think he figured it was like the legendary snipe hunt. He found out different.
So thirty minutes after sunset three nights after July’s full moon, six adventurers, six flash lights, two snake bags, one snake stick (you never know) did not even get their feet wet before Bob spotted the first midland banded water snake (N. sipedon pleuralis).
The rest is history. We caught 32 and four got away; all in just under 60 minutes and 200 yards. I was surprised. Mark was way past surprised beginning with borderline apoplectic but rallying to grabbing a few himself.
We counted them the next morning. Kept five for experiments and one gravid female as Bob and Mark wanted to try some fMRI snake obstetrics. The rest went back in the creek the next night and I can imagine their story. “First there were these bright lights. Then we got graded up and put in this weird flying hole. Then they dumped us into this place with invisible sides. Then they put us back in the weird hole. Then they flew us back and dropped us in the creek. We swear, that’s what happened”!!
Bob and Mark never got around to the fMRI but the snake had her 14 babies and into the creek they went. Around October another one had five babies which, timing considered, likely resulted from a mating in the “weird hole”. At least one Casanova wasn’t complaining about his close encounter.
I’ve long thought a more systematic study of snake movements and moon phase was in order but never did it as the driving was far and typically turned up only half-a-dozens snakes on a good night. Here we had 36 snakes per hour in 200yds of creek. And in peoples’ backyards! So residents of the banks of Shades Creek looking for a good science project might consider this opportunity. For I write of adventure not far away… or long ago.
ML
1/24/07
Having long been incensed by TV nature shows repeated claim that “snakes see poorly”, absent a shred of data upon the topic, we had begun an evoked potential study of the visual acuity of the snake that was easiest to come by – banded water snakes. Using Tim’s set up we had done a few experiments with water snakes captured the previous Fall. The arrival of an NSF summer undergraduate, Sheena, had exhausted our water snake stock so it was off to the creek to get some more.
Much lore and some data from nighttime road hunting suggested snakes were not out-and-about much under a full moon. A side effect of this suppression of snake ‘walkabouts’ was not apparent until we saw some data. To wit, if they are hold-up under a full moon then they will make up for lost time after a full moon. And though the moon be fullish and bright the nights immediately after it is full, it rises progressively later each night! Thus, by three nights after a full moon there is an early period of no moon; and snakes are anxious to get back in business.
Shades Creek at the end of Monarch Drive is full of minnows, pretty good sun, but not many ‘snake rocks’. They had to be more abundant than daytime trips revealed. Plus it is shallow, sandy bottomed, in town and you can literally drive into the creek so parking was close in case anybody ‘cracked’. In short, the perfect place to take a motley group ranging from the fairly sawed-off (Bob the veterinarian who raised leopard geckos), to two NSF summer undergraduates (Sheena and her roommate, Sonja) through two geeks (Tim and Mark). Mark, the fMRI foreman, was the least prepared for the events that unfolded. We bumped into him in the parking lot before kick-off. He says “what’s up”? We says “we’re going snake hunting, wanna come?” Mark says “neat”. I think he figured it was like the legendary snipe hunt. He found out different.
So thirty minutes after sunset three nights after July’s full moon, six adventurers, six flash lights, two snake bags, one snake stick (you never know) did not even get their feet wet before Bob spotted the first midland banded water snake (N. sipedon pleuralis).
The rest is history. We caught 32 and four got away; all in just under 60 minutes and 200 yards. I was surprised. Mark was way past surprised beginning with borderline apoplectic but rallying to grabbing a few himself.
We counted them the next morning. Kept five for experiments and one gravid female as Bob and Mark wanted to try some fMRI snake obstetrics. The rest went back in the creek the next night and I can imagine their story. “First there were these bright lights. Then we got graded up and put in this weird flying hole. Then they dumped us into this place with invisible sides. Then they put us back in the weird hole. Then they flew us back and dropped us in the creek. We swear, that’s what happened”!!
Bob and Mark never got around to the fMRI but the snake had her 14 babies and into the creek they went. Around October another one had five babies which, timing considered, likely resulted from a mating in the “weird hole”. At least one Casanova wasn’t complaining about his close encounter.
I’ve long thought a more systematic study of snake movements and moon phase was in order but never did it as the driving was far and typically turned up only half-a-dozens snakes on a good night. Here we had 36 snakes per hour in 200yds of creek. And in peoples’ backyards! So residents of the banks of Shades Creek looking for a good science project might consider this opportunity. For I write of adventure not far away… or long ago.
ML
1/24/07
