#94 - An Endemic Tarantula

For the ten years prior to beginning my road odyssey last year, most of my travel had been to exotic locales in search of tarantulas. Costa Rica, Suriname, Sri Lanka. These were destinations chosen for tarantula field work. Even Malaysian holidays had a primary focus on tarantula hunting. Even going back over thirty years, my road trips to Texas had an arachnological mission.

True, snakes and other reptiles were my primary distraction and deviation, and more than once on that first Costa Rican adventure in 2006, my mate and field trip leader Andrew Smith tried to rein in my desire to chase things that slither with commands of "Tarantulas, Michael, tarantulas!". Now an avid birder and wildlife photographer who often has mammals or other charismatic megafauna in the lens, I'd like to think that I was always a generalist naturalist. I love nature in all its forms. As enthralled as I was by the gorgeous red-legged tarantula (Megaphobema mesomelas) in Costa Rica, the world's largest spider in Suriname (Theraphosa blondi) or my beloved tiger spiders (Poecilotheria sp., ornamental tarantulas) in Sri Lanka, along those journeys Costa Rican hummingbirds enchanted, Surinamese labaria vipers thrilled and a fortunate sighting of a leopard in Sri Lanka amazed. Do I even need to mention orangutans and tree vipers in Borneo, or dusky leaf monkeys and hornbills in Malaysia?

Still, my tarantula-obsessed friends have wondered why my Instagram feed and blog entries have neglected the tarantula. Andrew has emailed me inquiring as to whether I do any tarantula hunting. In truth, last year I paid more attention to scorpions than tarantulas, and much more time was spent in pursuit of rattlesnakes. This year I am all over the place, chasing microfauna like robber and owl flies one moment and bears, bobcats and even the mountain lion the next. For the past two years, with only a few exceptions like the Rio Grande Gold Tarantula (Aphonopelma moderatum) in Texas or the beautiful Aphonopelma marxi tarantula from north of Silver City, New Mexico, both of which were female spiders I observed in burrows, the only tarantulas I have encountered have been wandering mature males found here in southeastern Arizona and southwestern New Mexico while out road-cruising for snakes.

It isn't that I have forgotten tarantulas. It is just that, firstly, this rugged area frustrates tarantula hunters and, secondly, I have many interests. Searching grasslands and desert scrub for burrows for the more abundant species in this region is hard work, so I guess an argument could be made for a third factor: laziness. Admittedly, a fourth reason could be collector bias for sexy spiders. When you've seen stunning tarantulas like Megaphobema mesomelas in Costa Rica and Poecilotheria subfusca in Sri Lanka, the local "brown jobs" like the local Aphonopelma gabeli and A. vorhiesi honestly don't have the same allure.

But let's get back to the first reason. My experience tarantula hunting in this region is limited, but my friend, arachnologist Dr. Brent Hendrixson, knows the tarantulas of the American Southwest better than anyone and has spent years and years searching for them. He has told me repeatedly that they can be very difficult to find. Many make their burrows beneath rocks or in scrapes where flipping rock after rock becomes the search method. Did I mention my laziness? At night I'd rather road cruise for snakes or black light for scorpions (the former enhanced by air conditioning and music; the latter makes finding scorpions rather effortless), and during the blazing heat of the day I can't bring myself to walk alone through the desert turning rocks.

However, there is one tarantula in the region that began to intrigue me. By now every reader should know of my deep love for the Chiricahua Mountains and that this year I am actually living right in the mountain range's Cave Creek Canyon. I have spent little time out in the surrounding flatlands. Most of my time is spent at 5000' or above, from the pine-oak woodlands of the rocky canyons and adjacent riparian zones up to the coniferous forests at 7500' and higher. And there is a newly described species of tarantula that lives in the Chiricahuas from 5000-8000'.

Aphonopelma chiricahua was described in 2016 by Brent and his two co-authors in a complete revision of the American species in the genus (all U.S. tarantulas belong to the genus Aphonopelma, but the genus reaches Central America). Their paper created many synonymies drastically reducing the number of species in the United States (currently 29), but it also established a number of new species endemic to specific localities (primarily Sky Islands) including Aphonopelma chiricahua, which occurs only in pine-oak woodland and mixed conifer forests here in the Chiricahuas.

Last week I encountered my first wandering males of the season while driving Portal Road at night. I was returning to Cave Creek Canyon from road-cruising out in the desert and found two males - the first just west of Portal and the second a little over a mile later closer to the entrance to the canyon. They looked freshly molted and I sent images to Brent for identification help. Mature male A. gabeli and A. vorhiesi look very similar, but it was the time of year that made him think it was probable they were the former species, which matures and breeds earlier than the late summer breeding A. vorhiesi. I had found plenty of both last year, and seeing my first males of the year stirred a desire to find something else. Yes, to tarantula hunt once more! Brent was on the road doing his own tarantula hunting in New Mexico and Texas during our conversations, and while I waited for replies I spent a good deal of time re-reading pertinent sections of the 340 page generic revision he co-authored. It reminded me that the "Arizona blonde" tarantula A. chalcodes is even found in this region (Brent found a male on the road to nearby Paradise that I drive frequently), which made me further bemoan how unlikely it was for me to find a female of any species in its burrow. But what really enticed me was the section on A. chiricahua.

The endemic species in the Chiris was described from only a handful of specimens. The male holotype (a single type specimen upon which the description and name of a new species is based) was actually caught by a retired biologist who is now an area realtor and is well-known to me. That was surprise number one. This male was found at 5083 ft. elevation on the road only a mile up canyon from the corral where my Wheelhouse is camped. Surprise 2. I then learned that the female paratype (additional specimens in the type series, other than holotype, used to describe a species) was from the area surrounding the Southwestern Research Station of the American Museum of Natural History (SWRS). It was collected at 5436 ft. and had been preserved for years at Auburn University in Alabama. The species description of Aphonopelma chiricahua in Hamilton, Hendrixson & Bond, 2016 was accompanied by no photo of a live female. An additional male was designated as paratype and, in total, eight specimens were examined for the species description within the Aphonopelma revision/monograph. The paratype female was the only female. The highest elevation male came from 8432 ft. near Rustler Park. 

Surprise #3 was that this species breeds in autumn. That meant that I wasn't going to come across wandering males this summer. My personal correspondence with Brent made me aware that he knows of females being seen on the roads during summer, presumably flushed out of their burrows during the summer monsoon rains. I began to hope I would be lucky enough to find one.

Jump ahead to this past Thursday, better known as the first day of summer. My previous blog entry recounted my experience that morning observing a behemoth of a black bear on the road just up canyon from the corral. What happened after the bear sighting is what concerns us here. As I have mentioned many times in many blog entries, I often don't know where I am going until I get there. I don't really plan my free days in advance. My truck is guided by whimsy. I could have easily gone hiking up on the Basin Trail in search of snakes or just walked my well-worn path on South Fork looking for Elegant Trogons and other birds. But I passed South Fork Road and then didn't turn off the forest road at the research station as I would have for the Basin Trail, Ash Spring or other popular destinations where I often hike. I decided to, for the countless time, to hunt an area above the research station for Rock Rattlesnakes. I have spent many hours in this prime location without success, but that doesn't prevent me from climbing the steep rocky hillside and shining my flashlight into likely crevices among boulder piles yet again. And this time it was in the back of my head that the location center for Aphonopelma chiricahua was also here. As the description reads, "Most specimens in natural history collections have been collected near the AMNH's Southwest(ern) Research Station".

The rock rattlesnake site is based on information from a friend who was part of a group that observed three within 30 yards of each other there during last year's SWRS field herpetology course. It is up a hillside adjacent to the SWRS, but accessed from about a mile up the road. That's about as specific as I choose to be. The steep slope has rock slides and boulder piles and is pine-oak woodland with pinyon pine, scrub oak, alligator juniper, Palmer's agave, prickly pear cactus, mountain yucca and numerous grasses, etc. After ascending to the area that looks like prime rock rattlesnake habitat and scouring the rocky terrain, I decided to continue to crest the hill and entered a grassy area at the top. I continued to hike down canyon from the highest elevation, which means towards the SWRS. I was wondering if I would find a vista where I could see the research station below. Most of my snake searching had been concentrated to a very rocky area about half the size of a football field and I have made a handful of visits this year to combine with dozens and dozens last year. This was, however, the first time I had gone all the way to the top, which reaches almost 5800 ft. above sea level and has extensive grassy flat areas. I found a large area cleared by ants and stopped to enjoy the breathtaking views of the canyon and the valley below. My mind turned to spiders and I began criss-crossing the top of the hill looking for any small creature to photograph. My camera had my macro lens and ring flash on it and I flipped some rocks looking for a subject. Always hoping for a snake or lizard, any beetle, bug or spider would do.

I hadn't hiked with my attnetion focused on the ground for more than a few minutes when I stopped in astonishment. There in my path on what seemed like a well-worn animal trail was a perfect tarantula burrow covered in silk. The species description of A. chiricahua is based on limited natural history information. It states, "Very little is known about the natural history of this elusive species. No burrows or shelters have been observed but these spiders probably seek refuge under rocks and rarely place silk around their burrow entrances". Elusive. Little known. I was very excited as I realized that this must be the spider and here I had found a perfect burrow near the type locality. The morning sun was rising fast and with a high temperature of 100F predicted I was hot, sweaty and tired from my climb. But I forgot all as I dropped to my knees and photographed the "textbook" silk-covered burrow. Perhaps the "rarely place silk" was presumptuous.

Only a tarantula burrow looks like this. There was no question what lived inside.

There are several ways to coax a tarantula from its burrow: flushing, tickling and digging. The latter is to be avoided as the tarantula can be injured or trapped, and it is destructive to the habitat. Furthermore, if you just want to photograph and release you are left to rebuild the retreat and it will always yield a very unsatisfactory result for the spider and alters the habitat. Arachnologists simply cannot dig perfectly round tunnels into the earth terminating in a chamber. Flushing is an easy and non-destructive means that works remarkably well in arid habitat. In essence you are simulating a flash flood and the tarantula will instinctively flee its tunnel and chamber rather than risk drowning inside. When tarantula hunting in the desert one normally carries jugs of water for this purpose. Hiking up the hillside I only had one 20 oz. water bottle and I had already drank half of it. We'll come back to "tickling" in a moment. First, we have to use a twig to brush away the silk layer the tarantula created to shade its retreat and deter pests like ants from house-crashing.

Tarantulas dig their own burrows and many are so perfectly round it is as if they were drilled by a coring machine.

With the silk removed and the hole once again photographed (yes, we tarantula hunters have far too many images of seemingly empty holes in the ground), I didn't give a moment's thought to my hydration despite my thirst and the heat. I began to pour the last ten ounces of berry flavored electrolyte-enhanced water in my possession down the hole. The orangish-brown furry legs that came forward put a big dorky smile on my face.

Aphonopelma chiricahua at the entrance to its lair

Alas, ten ounces hardly simulates monsoon rain flash flooding. The handsome rusty-brown tarantula came to see the light of day and its trespasser, but then just as swiftly retreated to darkness. I was out of flushing water and also now had nothing to quench my thirst. Two more full water bottles and backup gallon jugs were in my truck way down the hillside. So it was time to practice the art of tickling. But first, let's look at the habitat where the spider and I were spending the morning of the first day of summer.

In the center foreground you will see my walking stick inserted in the burrow when I returned later that evening to take additional photographs and record GPS coordinates lost during the excitement.

Tickling involves using anything from a blade of grass to a twig to entice the tarantula to the mouth of its burrow. There are various techniques used that range from dexterous finesse to a slightly more aggressive approach. Each of the gents I have pursued tarantulas with in the field has a personal touch. I admittedly lean toward the aggressive. Tickling can simulate a prey item and, in fact, tarantulas will often grab the twig with their jaws/fangs and can almost be tugged out of the hole. Tickling is usually accompanied by using the free hand to shade the hole so sunlight (or flashlight at night) is less likely to spook the spider. The finesse method employs brushing the forelegs and/or gently tapping the tunnel to elicit a feeding response. This brings the tarantula close to the opening, and typically requires many tries. My impatience usually gets the best of me and I tend to let the length of grass or twig go over or beside the tarantula when the opportunity arises so I can smack its little behind and encourage it to come out post haste. Overheated and without water, with the sun and temperature climbing, I relied more on the aggressive approach. I couldn't shade the hole with my free hand because I was trying to film video of the tickling with my iPhone, nine second of which can be seen below. With the glare of the sun and salty sweat running into my eyes preventing me from really seeing what was on the screen, and my heart racing with the excitement of finding this species in its burrow, the result wasn't great. 

I set down my phone for my final "tickle" and the spider came out. It was missing a leg and I couldn't help but wonder if I caused that during my sun-blinded, overly excited, aggressive tickle. Tarantulas readily autonomize their legs, which will regenerate during next molt. Within two molts the replacement leg will look like the original. With the spider out I then had to quickly decide what to do. I flattened my hand over the burrow opening to prevent reentry while I collected my thoughts. Normally I collect nothing. I might "temporarily restrain" for a later photo shoot in better conditions and later release in exact location, but I quickly realized that this specimen would be important to Brent as a research specimen. He will be visiting the Chiricahuas next month so he can take it for his own photo session. I know full well that it is likely he will pickle it for science, but I try not to dwell on that. I collected scorpions for him last year, and I resigned myself that this tarantula would be a gift to him. I would keep it alive until he and his summer field arachnology students arrive in the Chiricahuas. But, like I said, I don't collect and therefore I had no container. I had my camera, my iPhone, one - now very empty - water bottle, and my walking stick. Thankfully, my water bottle has a wide mouth lid and I put the tarantula inside. It was getting hot quickly so I hurriedly used my Gaia GPS app to find the waypoint and scrambled down the hill before the stainless steel bottle became too hot for the spider within. It wasn't until later that I discovered that in all the excitement I hadn't actually saved the waypoint. I had descended the hillside with a spider without exact location and elevation. I also descended rapidly through an unfamiliar area and wasn't sure where exactly I had been. Still, I'd have to hope I could find the burrow at a later date.

Back at my truck I grabbed a small box waiting for the trash and filled it with dirt and leaf litter from the area. I had one vacant custom tarantula home back at the Wheelhouse that was currently storing millet spray for my parrot that I would use to create a terrarium for the spider. Then I drove straight back to the corral to take some photos and build its new home. Back to WiFi, I posted the above video to my Instagram story and texted Brent. I was one happy tarantula hunter. Later that same evening, after the 100F had dropped to 90F, I returned to the hillside and tried to retrace my steps after climbing back up the rocky slope (again seeing no freaking rock rattlesnakes). I wandered a bit aimlessly for about thirty minutes once I reached the summit until I remembered the small dead tree near the burrow. It can be seen just to the left of my walking stick in the above habitat photo. Once I found that landmark, the burrow was easy to find and I was able to record the precise location. The burrow was at 5645 ft. elevation. As the crow flies it was just under three miles up canyon from my camp, almost directly north of the west side of the complex that is the AMNH Southwestern Research Station. And now I am on a quest for more. And a cricket or two to feed my new roommate ...

Aphonopelma chiricahua, 5645 ft., Chiricahua Mountains, Cochise Co., Arizona

#93 - Bears & Bobcats

An email quickly circulated among the small hamlet of Portal. Although bear sightings are common throughout Cave Creek Canyon, and local residents are quite familiar with bear shenanigans at their backyard feeders (prompting most to bring in all feeders at dusk), this well-forwarded email made two points. First, that this was the largest bear the original author had ever seen in the area and that the bear had been seen during the heat of day near the most popular places in Cave Creek Canyon: Vista Point, South Fork Road and Sunny Flat Campground. Readers were cautioned to exercise extra care when walking their dogs, as many locals do between Portal Road and this area.

I was sent the email so I could notify the birders, hikers and campers I encounter at the Visitor Center. But my first thought was that I hoped I would see it, preferably when I have camera in hand. I often say that I'd rather come face-to-face with a snarling, spitting, hissing mountain lion than a mother bear with cubs, the latter being far more dangerous, but the email only mentioned one, albeit enormous, bear. I suspected it was likely a lone male, curious and scavenging at the campsites. I too was curious.

As I left the corral this morning, two days after the initial sighting, I had the bear in the back of my mind. However, it was early and I was trying to get to an area where I look for Rock Rattlesnakes just above the Southwestern Research Station. I also was keen on finding spiders so my camera body had my 100mm lens on it, not the 150-600mm super telephoto zoom I use for birds and mammals. Vista Point is only a few minutes up the canyon from my campsite and just as I approached this famous photo-op trail I saw an immense black form on the west side of the road. I quickly pulled my truck off the road as soon as I could and watched as the bear crossed the road about 50 yards ahead of me. I scrambled to switch lenses and, as I was fumbling with camera gear, I noticed that there was two women up ahead very close to where I first glimpsed the bear. They were frozen on the road's shoulder and I next noticed that they had a dog.

As I jumped out of my truck, the bear had crossed the road completely and charged up the hill coming diagonally closer to my position. The rising sun was blinding me and I never was able to capture even a single image as I moved back down the road, following its progress running through cover back down canyon towards Vista Point. However, I saw it clearly many times and it was certainly the largest bear I have seen outside of Yellowstone many years ago. It was the size of a cow even if its shorter legs meant it was closer to the ground. I know most people wouldn't have pursued it as I did, but I did stay on the road and was prepared to dash back to my truck. Foolish, I know, as I can't outrun a bear. Or even a tortoise. But the bear never got closer than about 75 yards from me as it moved up higher the hill and I eventually lost sight of it.

I climbed back into my truck and caught my breath. I hadn't been away from the Wheelhouse for ten minutes and my heart was already racing. I sat and sipped my coffee and eventually the two women and their dog descended the road to where I was parked. I recognized them as locals and we began to chat. They said that the bear was dangerously close to where they were until it heard my approaching truck. That is when it dashed onto the road and began moving up the roadside hill. The woman with the dog recognized me from last year's herpetological conferences, this year's VIC Garden Party and other local places. She admitted that she was prepared to release her dog from the leash. She said that she loves her dog, but would have let the bear get to it before it got to her or her friend. I imagine it was a very intense few moments for them, whereas I was just running on adrenaline thrill and wanting to get a photograph!

Black Bears are dangerous. They may be omnivores who gently eat berries & nuts and don't hunt large animals, but they certainly will attack when threatened. I wouldn't suggest otherwise.

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Bobcat (Lynx rufus), Willow Tank near Arizona/New Mexico state line.

Another mammal thrill was my encounter with a mountain lion near my corral campsite, but it was over in seconds and the cat's profile is just a phantom memory. The more commonly seen wild cat is the Bobcat and one day when I was about to leave Willow Tank after doing some chores there for Friends of Cave Creek Canyon, this one visited me. Willow Tank is the wildlife pond that we maintain that formerly was an agricultural holding tank for flooding cotton fields. The bobcat was in the desert scrub bushes on the other side of the road from Willow Tank's gate. I grabbed my camera and followed it as it moved parallel to the road, it's sleek shape moving in and out of sight behind the creosotebush, mesquite and other shrubs and desert trees. When I lost sight of it I would quickly move farther up the road in the direction it was heading. It continued parallel to the road, perhaps thirty or forty yards into the scrub. To my surprise, it angled closer to the road and turned towards me. I watched it, photographed it, and marveled at how casual its gait was. It watched me, but seemed indifferent to my presence. I walked toward it as it crossed the road and went underneath my truck. I thought I might have to try to scare it away to leave, but it soon continued its slow stroll into Willow Tank itself where I hope it found a meal of one of the many desert cottontail rabbits currently occupying the temporarily drained pond. It looked a little weary and emaciated.

#92 - Chiri Charm - Portal/Rodeo

Last year I visited many breathtaking places across the U.S. In Florida, in January and again in March after a February Malaysia/Borneo odyssey, from the Keys to Kissimmee Prairie. On to Texas in April, from Sea Rim State Park on the Gulf, clinging to the Mexican border west to Laredo's urban Lake Casa Blanca International State Park, on to wondrous Big Bend National Park and then Seminole Canyon Historical Site. Then April saw me jumping back and forth between New Mexico to Arizona, camped at places like Picacho Peak State Park between Tucson and Phoenix, visiting the Superstition Mountains and the Sky Island complexes of the Santa Catalina and Santa Rita Mountains.

Last weekend, while I was in Paradise banding hummingbirds, the annual Elegant Trogon count took place here in the Chiricahuas. As arriving birders associated with the Tucson Audobon Society arrived, I was struck by the newcomers who had never visited the Chiris before and their love-at-first-sight enthusiasm for Cave Creek Canyon. Their home was Madera Canyon, another American nesting spot of the Mexican bird. Situated in the Santa Ritas south of Tucson, about halfway between that population center and the Mexican border, Madera Canyon is incredible. I visited it first with my arachnologist friend Brent and his students, and then again after they moved on toward California. I look forward to my next visit. But it is a short drive from the Sonoran desert sprawl of America's thirty-third largest city, whose greater metropolitan area is home to more than one million people. It ain't exactly a "well kept secret" as I have heard remarked about Cave Creek Canyon.

Even closer to Tucson city limits, the Santa Catalinas draw daily visitors from Phoenix as well. The Catalina Highway that rises to above 9000 feet near Mt. Lemmon is thirty miles of perfectly paved access to high elevation heat relief. I look forward to my next visit to this Sky Island as well, and have fond memories of a hot and dry day in Tucson becoming an evening flipping snow-covered rocks in successful search of scorpions.

The Trogon count participants that spend a great deal of time in Madera Canyon marveled at the Chiricahuas just as I did when I visited last year for a week that turned into four months. I still marvel every day, and each day I work at the VIC someone remarks on the uniqueness and splendor of Arizona's largest Sky Island. Far off the beaten path, the Chiri charm and cheer takes a little more work to experience.

Some Arizonans who venture toward the Chiris simply visit the Chiricahua National Monument on the west side of the range after leaving the interstate at Willcox. Fort Bowie National Historic Site lies in the valley below and a full day's outing can be had visiting both. Only the few cross Onion Saddle to descend toward Cave Creek Canyon and Portal. Others make Cave Creek Canyon their destination, most staying on the interstate into New Mexico and dropping south on Highway 80 five miles into the state and proceeding thirty miles to Rodeo, NM before heading back west into Arizona to Portal.

Aerial view of Portal, AZ and Cave Creek Canyon. Photo by BAlvarius/Wikimedia Commons

Straddling two states, the Portal/Rodeo community has a charm that affects arrivers who don't mind being in the middle of nowhere. But first, the confusing time zones takes getting used to. It isn't just that it is one hour earlier in Arizona and you may enter and leave both states multiple times in a day. It's that today we are slaves to smartphones and, when you leave the WiFi offered by the VIC or your lodging or wherever, your cell phone will pick up signal from New Mexico only. You may have remained in Arizona, but now your phone makes you think you've lost an hour. I've changed my setting to disable automatic time zones. The bigger issue with the New Mexico cell signal is in the event of an emergency. Should you need to call 911 you will be contacting services in New Mexico and may have to request transfer to Cochise County ARIZONA emergency dispatch. I have the direct numbers in my phone. Verizon is the only reliable carrier for use in the area, but the signal may be weak or nonexistent in some spots. One of the many services the Friends of Cave Creek Canyon provides at the VIC is public WiFi during open hours (9-4 daily, AZ time) and a Verizon Hotspot.

The VIC - Cave Creek Canyon Visitor Information Center

Nine miles into Arizona, Portal is the hub of the area. Although Rodeo, New Mexico has a post office and a small diner that has an extremely limited selection of groceries, arguably the only two major establishments are Rusty's RV Ranch and the Chiricahua Desert Museum. The latter is the must see attraction in the area. It sits between Rusty's to the north and the Rodeo proper to the south, directly where Highway 533 heads towards Portal and Cave Creek Canyon. After passing State Line Road you are in Arizona and Hwy. 533 is better known as Portal Road. 

Chiricahua Desert Museum & Geronimo Event Center - Image from CDM Facebook

The Sky Island Grill & Grocery will soon become the third Rodeo establishment of note, but it is only just now sometimes opening its doors after being in development for years. It sits just inside New Mexico a short distance from the Chiricahua Desert Museum just before the bend to the northwest takes you into Arizona.

Consisting really of only one intersection, the crossroads of which is a complex known Portal Peak Lodge and Portal Store & Cafe, the tiny eclectic community of Portal, said to be home to more Ph.Ds per capita (retired) than anywhere else in Arizona, is centered on this venue for lodging, good food and, occasionally, live music. Up the hill to the north is the Portal Rescue & Fire where special events and meetings are also held and south down Rock House Road is the small post office and library. The rest of Portal are the residences that stretch out into the desert or up toward the canyon. I overheard one resident in the library mentioning how she feels like there are two communities - the desert and the canyon. This is where two worlds meet; the Chihuahuan Desert of Rodeo and eastern Portal and the foothills and entrance to Cave Creek Canyon, the Coronado National Forest and the Chiricahua Mountains.

Storefront - Lodge behind left - Image from web search

You may now be wondering about how many people live in the hamlet of Portal. A web search results in wide-ranging population estimates from 100 to more than 1300. Homes are secluded down dirt roads branching from Portal Road, but I can't imagine where one thousand or more people would reside. There aren't exactly apartment complexes. It is no surprise that the median age is just above my own soon-to-be 54, or that most households consist of just two people, generally a retired couple. It also isn't a surprise that more than 10% hold a graduate degree. What Portal residents have most in common is that many are birders and/or hikers and/or astronomers. And they live in one of the most beautiful places in America. They are also more than a little adventurous and industrious, and choose to live somewhere fairly remote. It is twenty-five miles each way to Animas, NM, where the Valley Mercantile offers hardware, feed, convenience groceries and, thankfully via 24-hour pumps, the closest fuel. About the same distance up a primitive mountain road and almost one hour's drive takes you to the interstate and San Simon, AZ where you can also buy fuel and one gas station offers a pretty good selection of produce, groceries and hardware. Most drive 75 miles northwest, entering New Mexico before returning to Arizona, to the Safeway in Willcox, AZ, or instead travel 60 miles or so southeast to the Wal-Mart in the border town of Douglas, AZ in order to shop. These cities also offer the closest health care services and other needs. Northeast of Portal-Rodeo, Lordsburg, NM is about the same distance as Douglas, but its little grocery store is pretty dismal. Some plan weekend trips 350 miles round-trip to Tucson to take care of many tasks every few months. It's the price you pay to dwell next door to a canyon and mountain range where Elegant Trogons and Blue-throated Hummingbirds fly, without the influx of city folk seen by Madera Canyon and other wonderful places.

Blue-throated Hummingbird, Cave Creek Canyon

Those, like me, who visit the Portal-Rodeo area and the northeast side of the Chiricahuas have a handful of choices for lodging. Here in Cave Creek Canyon, there are three forest service campgrounds and, beyond where the paved road ends and becomes a primitive road climbing the mountain, there are some excellent dispersed campsites. Those seeking cooler climes may wish to camp at Barfoot or Rustler Park, where the 8000 foot-plus elevation provides respite from the heat. However, like the other dispersed sites, there are no toilets. Those with RVs best stay at Rusty's; only one of the three USFS campsites can accommodate small campers and there are no hook-ups. Many birders choose one of several B&Bs along Portal Road or Portal Peak Lodge. The USFS also has two rental cabins on each side of the VIC. Housekeeping cottages at Cave Creek Ranch are one of the more popular places for birders to stay and it is within walking distance of the VIC. In fact, owner Reed Peters is also the president of Friends of Cave Creek Canyon, and it is at his Ranch that I receive mail, packages and do my laundry. Guests at Cave Creek Ranch enjoy coatis, javelinas, a large population of very tame Coues or Desert White-tailed Deer and a spectacular variety of birds.

One of the variety of cottages at Cave Creek Ranch - Image from CCR website

#91 - Citizen Science

My last blog entry was devoted to my first experience trapping and banding hummingbirds. This project was conducted by amateurs (citizens) with data being recorded and published so that it might be used by professionals (scientists).

“Citizen science is scientific research conducted, in whole or in part, by amateur scientists. Citizen science is sometimes described as “public participation in scientific research,” participatory monitoring, and participatory action research.”

— Wikipedia

Of course, the world wide web has connected us all. Amateur naturalists like me, who observe nature and share our observations, can now contribute our experiences to science. Zoologists and other professionals, who are trained and paid and although not "citizens" in this context are presumably citizens in some respect elsewhere, can utilize data recorded by an networked army of eager contributors around the globe. The observations of the untrained and un-degreed and unpaid individuals like myself might be disparagingly referred to as "anecdotal data" and disregarded by intelligentsia snobbery of the past, but there was nothing "anecdotal" about the data recorded by Lee during our five hour Sunday morning following Hummingbird Monitoring Network guidelines.

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iNaturalist.org began as a Master's final project of students of U.C. Berkeley's School of Information. It grew to become a joint initiative of the California Academy of Sciences and National Geographic Society. Its primary goal is to connect people to nature. More than three-quarters of a million amateur and professional naturalists are linked by a website and app that allows everyone to learn and share. As the website states, "...by recording and sharing your observations, you’ll create research quality data for scientists working to better understand and protect nature." Research quality data. Observations, usually photographs of a plant or animal taxon accompanied by locality information that includes in most cases GPS coordinates, are posted. Some posters do not know exactly what they have seen. The community identifies and by successive confirmations of identification and other parameters referred to as "data quality assessment" an observations becomes "research grade". 

I just surpassed 300 observations submitted to iNaturalist. What I am most proud about is that of my current 304 observations there are 221 unique species. Some know me as a "snake guy", others as a "spider guy", but in truth I am an opportunistic observer and generalist naturalist with wide-ranging interests. I may sound wisest when I am discussing snakes or spiders, but I can form intelligent sentences when talking bird or bat or wild cat. In a single day I might submit an observation of an agave plant, a paper wasp, a burrowing owl AND a rattlesnake. In addition to my own observations on iNaturalist, I have currently contributed 2654 identifications of other member observations. I limit those to my expertises, and the majority are snakes especially rattlesnakes, although I also have it set up to show me all observations in the Chiricahua Mountains. Using the website or app you can "follow" taxa of interest and my "dashboard" only shows me daily observations of rattlesnakes, other vipers, colubrid snakes, horned lizards and any plant or animal from the Chiricahuas.

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I have only been active on eBird for a week. It is something like iNaturalist but, obviously, devoted exclusively to birds. Birding is a much different pursuit, and observations on eBird include birds that are heard but not seen. Also, instead of photos accompanying the majority of observations, it is based on checklists. You submit species seen or heard, whether you were traveling (moving, hiking) or stationary (sitting, bird feeders), and time of start and duration of "tracking". You then note whether your submitted checklist records all species you were able to identify or whether it is a partial list and more species were observed (seen or heard) than noted on the checklist.

eBird is a project of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. From their website, "eBird began with a simple idea—that every birdwatcher has unique knowledge and experience. Our goal is to gather this information in the form of checklists of birds, archive it, and freely share it to power new data-driven approaches to science, conservation and education. At the same time, we develop tools that make birding more rewarding. From being able to manage lists, photos and audio recordings, to seeing real-time maps of species distribution, to alerts that let you know when species have been seen, we strive to provide the most current and useful information to the birding community". eBird is the world's largest biodiversity-related citizen science project.

I first only used the website version, and the initial reason I began looking at eBird to fill in the whiteboard I maintain in the VIC (Visitor Information Center) listing all observed bird species observed in our section of the Chiricahua Mountains, from Portal to Paradise, through Cave Creek Canyon and up to high elevation at Onion Saddle and Rustler and Barfoot Parks. Laura, who taught me loads about birding and is a volunteer that has now pushed on to Oregon, used to take care of our bird lists but now that duty has fallen to me. I am officially now an avid birder, but I don't have her network of birding friends who share everything via Facebook. I'm not so friendly and I don't Facebook. So, to expand our lists to beyond what I personally observe or learn of from birders I interact with at the VIC or on the trail, I use eBird checklists from our area. 

I soon wanted to submit my own lists, especially since I set up my own array of feeders at the corral where my Wheelhouse stands. I have an ever increasing menagerie dining in my campsite, and I now sit with iPhone in hand using the very handy eBird app to record observations in real time. I select location from a list of birding hotspots or my own personal list (you can create a new location), press start and it records start time and duration as I count numbers of birds of a number of species. If I am hiking it can record distance traveled, but I have limited WiFi when out and about and I usually record my hikes only using the GAIA GPS app and submit the checklists when I return to Internet.

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Western Black-tailed Rattlesnake (Crotalus molossus), Chiricahua Mountains

The tools I use as a naturalist are only just two examples of citizen science. Volunteering to assist a real research project is an excellent way anyone can contribute. Just learning more about how citizen science works is a first step. Harvard Magazine has an interesting article I recommend those interested in "popular science" read. eBird's own Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a superb primer on PPSR or public participation in scientific research. The latter article mentions how volunteer-collected data has contributed to over one hundred peer-reviewed scientific articles in recent years. 

One type of robber fly devours a different species of robber fly

#90 - Hermosos Colibríes

Most days my 'chores' begin at 5 a.m., plus or minus thirty minutes. The Blue-throated hummingbirds that frequent the feeders at my corral and the VIC feed in the last light of day even as the long-nosed bats are already arriving, but they also seem ravenous before dawn is close to breaking. This morning I was up at 3 so I could replenish feeding stations at both locations, have a quick coffee, banana and shower, and drive seven miles on the dirt road on the other side of the canyon to Paradise.

Paradise was a mining boom town in 1902, with a school, post office, shops, German restaurant, saloons and a red light district, and may have once been home to more than two thousand people at its peak, many of them hopeful miners. But after the 1907 'Money Panic' it went bust. Today there is little remaining of the structures from more than one hundred years ago. Most were knocked down and the lumber hauled away to create structures elsewhere, and the lone full-time year-round resident has usually been Jackie Lewis who operates the George Walker House.

George Walker is a famous man in these parts from "back in the day" and sone of the stories of how the town "Paradise" got its name honored his wife Lulu and their honeymoon there. Today, the George Walker House is a famous birding destination and accommodations in the Chiricahuas with two houses to rent to those in search of solitude and an incredible array of wildlife. Jackie's bird feeders are second to none. Dozens and dozens of seed and nectar feeders are distributed through her bird sanctuary garden and the adjacent cabins, with oranges, glass pots of peanut butter and other treats accompanying them. There are many flowers and agave stalks and trees and shrubs for perches and a rocky, flower-lined stream flowing even during the drought of June.

This morning I arrived at the George Walker House to assist with hummingbird banding for the Hummingbird Monitoring Network (<- click link to get involved or donate). Lee Rogers has been banding the hummers of Paradise for many years, and I was part of a team of five that spent five hours (05:20-11:20) delicately handling tiny little feathered gems. Wearing an illuminated magnifier visor, Lee handles the actual banding, recording species, measurements, condition, and things like fat level and the presence of pollen. As he verbalizes a litany of these observations, Jackie records the data. But let's start at the beginning.

The other twosome of our crew were Bud and Debb Johnson who live in Portal, which is basically where I live even though I am in Cave Creek Canyon itself. Debb is the mayor of the small community and I first met her when I was obtaining a library card. After the Johnsons arrived, Bud showed me how to set up the net traps. We would have two traps and the other hummingbird feeders were removed. The two feeding stations where we trap are perhaps thirty feet apart and our position would form a triangle with the two traps. The net traps themselves are both simple and ingenious. A weighted ring laying on the ground holds the apparatus in position and beneath where the nectar feeder hangs is a rigid deck. Suspended above the deck is the net basket and heavy fishing line runs through eyelets and over a pulley. The fishing line is clamped to a stand where the trappers (Bud and I) sit. As the hummingbirds come in to feed, the trapper quickly releases the small clamp holding the taut fishing line from a sitting position some twenty feet away, thereby dropping the upper basket onto the deck and enclosing the winged jewels inside.

The early hours are cool and the birds are hungry. During our first hour we would occasionally trap five in one drop, especially at the upper trap located in a more open and sunny area. Bud told me he has caught ten at once. Once the birds are trapped, we walk up and reach our arm underneath the basket and gently cup the buzzing bird in hand. Words cannot describe how small and fragile the birds are. Even the large Rivoli's (formerly Magnificent) Hummingbirds that are extremely abundant at the George Walker house only weigh 6-8 grams, despite a five inch height and seven inch wingspan. The little Black-chinned Hummers are a third of the size. I am a large man with huge mitts and so is Bud, but I quickly learned how he deftly cupped them taking special care with their wings, and the tricks for getting them to release the grip of their minuscule feet. Of course, the two-inch bill of the Rivoli's is another concern. As I cupped the hummingbird in my right hand I would reach in with a a little netted drawstring bag held in the other. With right hand carefully enclosing the bird and its wings, I'd reach deep into the little bag and release the bird while pinching the bag shut at the top, pulling the drawstring taut and sliding down a closure on the string. With one, two, three or more birds bagged in this manner I'd then walk them down to a table set in the shade away from the garden where Lee, Jackie and Debb were stationed. There they have a carousel to hang the bird-filled bags individually so they can be processed in the order received. We'll come back to their work.

Our survey lasted five hours and each hour Bud and I saw that temperature, wind and cloud cover are recorded. A Kestrel 400 handheld weather unit is used along with an official digital clock. In addition to the trapped birds we recorded ESCAPEES (birds that were trapped but were able to get out while we had an arm in the basket), VISITORS (birds that entered the perimeter of the trap but were not caught) and CHECKERS (wary birds that investigate the feeder but do not enter the perimeter of the trap). The first couple of hours were hectic as hummingbirds waste no time fueling up as the sun begins to rise in the sky. Occasionally we would have to record stoppages where we would pause our trapping for ten minutes or so because the data team had too many birds to process. Let's get back to what they do.

As I wrote, Lee examines each bird and Jackie records the numerous comments he makes. Some birds have been banded before and the number is recorded along with data, others get banded for the first time. When Lee is done he wraps the bird tightly in a cloak of material (no clue what it is) that is held closed with a little clip. He then sets it on a scale and Jackie records its weight. The final step is what Debb does: revive and release. Debb removes the cloak and holds the hummingbirds bill to a little nectar feeder so it can get the meal it was after when Bud and I unceremoniously dropped a freakin' basket trap on it. They have been grasped, placed in bags, walked to the data station and hung like ornaments on a Christmas tree on the lazy Susan carousel, then held by Lee, cloaked and set on a scale. They need time to catch their breath and lap up sugar water. Debb moves her arm to simulate flight and they get their bearings. She blows on their faces as needed and ensures they are ready to return to the air. She lets them feed as much as they need. Often they lay motionless on the palm of her hand as if not realizing they are free to go. Then, with a burst, the acrobatic aeronauts return to Paradise. Some, lesson not learned, are trapped again the same morning.

We banded exactly one hundred "new" birds over the five hour survey. There were another forty or so "recaptures". Although there can be a dozen or more species of hummingbirds in Paradise or here in Cave Creek Canyon, I refer to the five most common as the "Big 5". That is, the small (normal) sized three: Black-chinned, Broad-billed and Broad-tailed, and the large two: Rivoli's (Magnificent) and Blue-throated. At my camp and 100 yards down canyon at the VIC Blue-throateds are abundant, but this morning in Paradise we heard a couple but trapped zero. The George Walker House is THE place for the magnificent Rivoli's. This brilliant bird with iridescent green gorget and purple frontlet was originally known as Rivoli's, then was changed to Magnificent, but recently was changed back to Rivoli's and again honors some Frenchman. But we still affectionately call them "Mags" for short.

In two weeks I will again be assisting with the banding. I hope I can rearrange my volunteer schedule to always be available to conduct the HMN work in Paradise. Bud and Debb won't be there next time, and I don't think Lee will either, so we'll be doing the best we can. I can't tell you what a thrill it was to help and to hold fifty or so 'colibries' in my hand, and to contribute to knowledge about them worldwide. The information we collected goes into databank so that populations, migration patterns and much more can be studied.

Trap closed over feeder

Lee, Jackie & Debb with the tools of the trade and hanging colibri ornaments

A male "Mag" in Debb's hand, moments before bursting back into the Paradise skies. These basically are tied with Blue-throated for largest North American hummer.

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I'd like to mention one final thing as long as I am devoting a blog entry to hummingbirds. Attracting hummingbirds with flowers and feeding them is a wonderful thing. If you feed hummers please do not use any store-bought products other than the feeders themselves. Manufactured nectars and preservatives and such are dubious at best. Hummingbirds are attracted to the red color of the feeders, they don't need artificial dyes making the nectar red too. Use pure cane granulated sugar only - never brown sugar or sweeteners or molasses or anything else, almost always in a ratio of four parts good clean filtered water to one part sugar. This simulates the 21% sugar content of natural nectar. Heat the water but do not bring to a complete boil. You want the sugar to dissolve quickly but not be syrupy or overheated. I add the sugar when tiny bubbles first form at bottom of pot and stir for twenty seconds or so until completely dissolved and turn off heat, removing it from burner completely after a minute or two. I let my water stand out for twenty-four hours to dechlorinate, but boiling can accomplish this too and removes contaminants. However, some suggest that boiling (or at least overheating) changes chemical composition. Make only enough for one or two days and refrigerate excess. Completely clean feeders every couple of days and immediately if any signs of mold or other fouling is present. There is no need for "Nectar Fresh" or some other bogus preservative if you are militant about fresh nectar and feeder cleaning. You can get small bottle brushes wherever you buy feeders to clean the openings and soak scrub out the rest.