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Over the summer of 2022, I spent several weeks chasing alterna in West Texas. During the heat of the day (and often as the sun came up after a long night of cut shining), I went back and re-read all of Kevin Messenger's China posts and many other FHF classics. I couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic, with how much more meaningful the format is compared to scrolling on Instagram or Facebook. It inspires more impactful engagement with fellow field herping enthusiasts about the hobby, and (usually) with less of the crud in-between that causes so much drama and tension on social media. Nobody remembers an “epic Facebook post” from 2015, but anyone on this forum a decade or more ago can remember the stories and photos shared here that impacted them in a positive way. Social media has its place, but I think forums still do too.
With that being said, I'll jump right into sharing my first month of 2023 herping! I doubt I'll be able to post at the beginning of each month as things get busier later in spring, but for now it keeps me busy with my mind on herping during a dreary February cold snap. Future installments will come as I'm inspired to put them together and have time to do so!
The last few years have started with an early opportunity to see snakes to start the new year, and 2023 was no exception. The first snake of the year sets the tone for me, but during colder winters I'll be lucky to see any local snake before February. Several consecutive warm days in the forecast had me feeling optimistic, but finding snakes is seldom easy during the winter. This is particularly true in the northern half of Georgia, where I spend most of my time. I have long said that the worst part about winter in Georgia is the short days. Many outings feel like a race against the clock as darkness looms as soon as the air finally starts to feel warm in the afternoon. Despite that, winter has its own charm here as mild temperatures often accompany winter storm fronts making for some of the best amphibian conditions of the season as soon as the new year begins. Occasionally, those same storm fronts push unseasonably warm air into the southeast and it can feel like April in January. These days can be some of my favorite outings of the year, but conditions just weren’t quite where I needed them to be on New Years day this year. I only turned up a few common (but always welcome) salamander species at a spot I repeatedly come up short at in the colder months. A very smooth looking 3 legged Spotted Salamander was my favorite find of the day. Unfortunately, it seems like this park’s snake population has had a pretty dramatic crash since I first started herping there as a child. Natricines are still present, but prime basking days in the spring typically only produce a fraction of the Midland Watersnakes, Queen Snakes, and Brown Snakes I saw on an average day in 2013. Foot traffic at the park has greatly increased in basking areas, and more changes have been made to bring in revenue and attract more visitors. It is one of the only public places in a multi-county area of Metro Atlanta that people can go to get outside, and it is rapidly becoming surrounded by busier roads and more neighborhoods. Nevertheless, it is still a great place to enjoy a 70° January day.
I had a difficult choice on the second day of the year. The conditions were near perfect, low 70's and cloudy, and I had to pick between almost certainly seeing my first snake of the year or shooting for a big target species in difficult habitat. I chose the risky route and decided to hike uplands in search of an Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake, or any other sandhill specialist that might come out to bask. I flipped some tin, removed my first tick of the year, and hiked habitat well into the afternoon. I began to wonder if I should've played it safe and visited a more snake dense habitat like a swamp. Several miles and many stumpholes, burrows, and tin stacks inspected later, I turned over a burnt log and saw my first snake of the year. It was a beautiful young Corn Snake, born in the fall of 2022. The first photo is the snake as flipped, and then a few habitat shots. That was the only notable find of the day, but goal accomplished! Solid first snake of the year.
[/url]Corn Snake (Pantherophis guttatus) 
Corn Snake (Pantherophis guttatus)The early season warmth continued into the third day of the year, but rainy conditions persisted throughout the day so I opted to search for amphibians once night fell. In 2022 I discovered a population of Wood Frogs less than a mile from home, and I was eager to learn more about the population now that their breeding season was approaching again. Wood Frog populations are few and far between outside the mountains in Georgia, and I considered this one of my best finds of the 2022 season. Although I had long suspected they could occur in this county, I never would have guessed there was a population living within walking distance of home. I have walked the small stretch of road at the bottom of my driveway dozens of times, and I can confidently say the Wood Frogs do not currently reach this area. However, a short walk/drive down the street and they are present in nearly identical habitat. The woods were quiet on the night of January 3rd, however there were several frog species active on the road and a lone Brown Snake. I was a little surprised that the Upland Chorus Frogs had yet to begin their breeding chorus, but I assume the brutal cold at the end of December pushed everything back a few weeks.
Brown SnakeI was excited but not necessarily surprised to see a snake on the road, Storeria and other natricenes can be found any day of the year in northern Georgia as long as the temperatures are mild. Low 60's and rainy is hard to beat in January. I took a few camera photos and shooed my first night cruised snake of the season off into the forest before calling it a night.
The excessive amount of rain resulted in some cool incidental yard finds the next day, I uncovered two species of salamander I don't often see in my ridge-top yard. A male Southern Two-lined Salamander and an ambiguous Desmognathus, possibly the recently described Chattooga Dusky Salamander (Desmognathus perlapsus). From my understanding, Chattooga Dusky Salamanders are members of the Ocoee Salamander group and are notably smaller and more limber than Desmognathus conanti, the only other Desmognathus that I know is in this area.
Southern Two-lined Salamander (Eurycea cirrigera) 
Chattooga Dusky Salamander (Desmognathus perlapsus)One of my favorite winter activities is searching for new springs and seepages to look for salamanders in. Weather is largely irrelevant for such excursions, but a high water table tends to make for better salamander activity and mild days can always bring out some reptiles. My next outing was one of these spring hunts, during which I visited one of the isolated mountain ranges in the Georgia piedmont. I successfully located a new seepage, but salamanders were few and far between and the site looked better on satellite. The most notable herp seen and the only one I photographed was a beat up guarding male Southern Two Lined Salamander. The hike in/out ate up several of the precious winter daylight hours, and I retreated to a familiar site nearby to try to end the day with some salamanders.
Compare this guarding male to the searching male I photographed in my yard above. This male salamander is specialized to fill a different reproductive role than the lean searching male, using it's well developed jaw muscles to defend nests, females, and territory from other male Two-lined Salamanders. The searching male boasts more pronounced cirri (the whisker like chemical receptors on the chin), and is presumably more efficient at locating females and making longer overland journeys in search of mates.
Southern Two-lined Salamander (Eurycea cirrigera)At the nearby site I had visited previously I quickly turned up a number of great salamanders, including some beautiful intergrade Northern x Southern Red Salamanders (Pseudotriton ruber ruber x vioscai). This area is a mucky seepage with intermittent pools, providing breeding habitat for a number of frog and salamander species. I have been hoping to turn up a Mud Salamander here for years, but they continued to be elusive (likely absent entirely) this visit.
Northern x Southern Red Salamander (Pseudotriton ruber ruber x vioscai)
Northern x Southern Red Salamander (Pseudotriton ruber ruber x vioscai)This site is a great place to see the diminutive Four-toed Salamanders in habitat, which lay their eggs in the moss lined edges of the seepages and pools. I turned up a number of males and females, but saw no evidence of early breeding activity. I did see several of my first Spotted Salamander egg masses of the year in the deeper pools. Tight clusters and round, featureless blobs within the eggs indicated that these were young egg masses likely laid during the rain events of several days prior. Water clarity is never great here since the water is tannin stained and iron rich, but I was able to get a decent photo of an egg mass by sticking my phone camera partially under water.
Four-Toed Salamander (Hemidactylium scutatum) 
Spotted Salamander EggsThe first weekend in January brought mild overnights and sunny days, a great recipe for early season snake activity. I joined long time field herping friend Richard Williams for a hike at another once-great local area that has fallen into disarray over the years. Negligent mismanagement, invasive species, and over herping/hiking have turned the place into a fraction of what it was when Richard and I first started herping here many years ago, and visiting sometimes brings more pain than pleasure these days. But the good days are still reminiscent of the good days of old, despite the haunting memories of what is likely soon to be gone forever. As with many larger cities like Atlanta, there are simply not enough places for the public to access nature within an hour drive of the city resulting in absurd crowds and gradual decay of these last remaining natural places. I could rant about this for hours, but I'm probably preaching to the choir so I'll move on to the more positive features of the area. It is still almost a guarantee that *some* kind of snake can be found on a nice day, and find snakes we did. Along with many more of the common salamanders seen on earlier outings, we found a handful of Brown Snakes and our first Smooth Earth Snake of the year under sun warmed rocks and tin. The first Brown Snake was sharing a vacant fire ant bed under cover with a Ground Skink (Scincella lateralis). As much as fire ants can suck, I do think their nests provide important structure for smaller herp species when they become vacant.
Smooth Earth Snake (Virginia valeriae)And a few photos of Brown Snakes under tin.
Brown Snake 
Brown SnakeThe next day brought another round of mild late Winter storms, and a gradual increase in anuran activity that continued to compound with each additional front. The cascade that is spring amphibian breeding has begun, and as far as I'm concerned we were over "the hump". "The hump" varies greatly depending on where you live, and here it is more of a small hill comprised of a few week-long arctic blasts somewhere between mid November and mid January before any amphibian breeding or other evidence of spring begins. Getting over the hump is the hardest part of the year as a herper: we are at the complete mercy of the Winter weather and I am grateful my hump is comparatively small each year. Pseudacris calls and daffodils mark the crossing of the hump and the beginning of Spring for me, even if the calendar or a subterranean rodent says otherwise.
Although frog activity was noticeably better than a week prior despite less rain and cooler temps, we were still far from peak and the Upland Chorus Frogs (Pseudacris feriarum) seemed to be the only frogs calling and the most active species on the road. I made several passes down the home stretch coinciding with bursts of rainfall throughout the night, and I was rewarded with my second living Wood Frog from the area and my first alive on road Spotted Salamander of the year! At the time of writing this, Wood Frog breeding season has come and gone and regrettably I didn't find time to make another attempt at seeing a larger migration or hearing calls. Something to look forwards to doing next January!
Wood Frog (Lithobates sylvaticus) A high percentage of the local Spotted Salamanders have stunning orange spots on their heads, which seldom fails to impress visiting herpers.
Spotted Salamander (Ambystoma opacum)Cold overnights made a swift return after the rain moved out, but daytime highs remained pleasant so I returned to a spot I started visiting in 2019. This relatively quiet park has a great stream flowing through it, and boasts impressive amphibian populations and diversity as well as some great target snake species during warm weather. Among that amphibian diversity is the recently described Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognatus cheaha), which I was able to photograph for the first time since its description. These are massive Desmognathus, seemingly only smaller than the largest group in the genus, the Black-bellied Salamanders. They're also extremely proficient swimmers, quick to jump into the water and disappear when flipped.
Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognathus cheaha) 
Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognathus cheaha) 
Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognathus cheaha)A photo of a Talladega Seal as flipped.
Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognathus cheaha)I also flipped a recently laid clutch of Southern Two-lined Salamander eggs, which I was able to snap a quick cell phone photo of before the mother disappeared into the gravel below the nest. I took great care to replace the rock as it originally rested, with the clutch of eggs fitting back into the shallow depression in the gravel excavated by the female. This creek is a great place to find nesting cirrigera, I have seen nests in this same stretch several years in a row now. Interestingly, Three-lined Salamanders are also very common in this same stretch of creek and I found around a dozen metamorphs in close vicinity to the Two-lined nest but failed to take any good photos.
I ended the day with a great tally of species and individuals, with this large adult Red Salamander being my final find of the day.
A series of violent thunderstorms and tornadoes swept through the greater Atlanta area in mid January, followed by snow flurries. Tornadoes have become a disturbingly regular occurrence in this part of the country over the last few years and total destruction has come too close to for comfort several times recently. Over a dozen tornadoes touched down across the state on January 12th causing serious damage to several metro Atlanta communities, including peripheral damage to the area I visited following the storms. Downed trees lined the road into the area I planned to visit, and power crews were hard at work restoring electricity to the region. Despite the damage, these storms brought a much needed deluge that filled many of the ephemeral ponds in low lying areas. Still, some of the ponds I visited that day were bone dry: a testament to the intensity of the drought of Fall of 2022. Among the dry ponds was the only pond I have observed calling and breeding Wood Frogs in the Georgia Piedmont (~40 miles east of the population I discovered at home). I was joined by another long time herping friend Greg Brashear and southside local/long time internet friend Ben Grizzle for a great day of floodplain wandering. Although we were all disheartened to find out the Wood Frog ponds were dry and devoid of life, our timing was perfect for salamanders. Here's a habitat shot to set the scene, about as far north in Georgia as you can find a wild Dwarf Palmetto, and as far south as you can find a Wood Frog.
Piedmont BottomlandsGreg and Ben in action photographing one of many multi-Ambystoma flips, a Marbled and Spotted Salamander sharing a log.
We saw dozens of Marbled and Spotted Salamanders with a handful of other common amphibians sprinkled in, but this flip was probably the highlight of my day. 8 Ambystoma under one log, rookie numbers in some places I know, but definitely my best salamander log roll in Georgia. I think the abundance of ephemeral ponds in our floodplains along with mild Winters means the salamanders aren't quite as concentrated here compared to some areas up north, but in return we have vast expanses of almost continuous ephemeral pools that can take all day and then some to explore.
Another photogenic double, this is as flipped.
Spotted Salamanders (Ambystoma maculatum)The middle of January also saw our first really warm day since the first days of the year, and I was prepared to take full advantage of it. I got up early and drove to one of the snakiest regions of the state and began hiking as soon as possible. In my experience, the early morning after warm and wet overnights can be surprisingly productive during the winter months. My running theory is that snakes, particularly vipers, get wet during storms when their Winter refuges flood, so they climb into vegetation to attempt to dry off throughout the day and avoid getting water blisters/SFD infections that can be fatal during the Winter months. Sure enough, my first snake was a Cottonmouth up in the bushes first thing in the morning.
Shortly after, a familiar face. This time, on the ground and still emerging from its burrow. I first saw this Cottonmouth in the same spot in December of 2022. This would become a theme throughout the day.
After taking a few shots of the second Cottonmouth, I moved on towards an area I had seen a Timber Rattlesnake on the same visit I first saw the Cottonmouth. Sure enough he was sitting in the same spot in the same position up on a fallen tree.
The same snake on December 6th, 2022. My brain couldn't help but wonder if he ever even moved, but the record breaking cold in between observations is evidence he has an underground refuge nearby.
My next snake of the day was another Timber Rattlesnake on a nearby hillside. This snake was just beginning to emerge from an ambiguous hole in the ground, so I opted for a distant shot in hopes he would come further out as the day continued to warm up.
I wandered around for a few more hours but snakes proved a little tougher to find than I was expecting despite the great weather. I found an adult Ratsnake back in a crevice I have seen many in and around over the years.
And then I followed it up with a sharp looking young of year Ratsnake. Ratsnakes are about as common here as I've seen them anywhere, with double digit days being a fairly regular occurrence during the winter and early spring.
Eastern Ratsnake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis)A stop at a creek crossing produced a great looking pair of Southern Red Salamanders (Pseudotriton ruber vioscai) under cover. These salamanders are also incredibly common here, I rarely fail to turn up a few each trip. The vioscai subspecies is characterized by dark pigment on the face and an overall duller coloration, and although they are not as vibrant as the other subspecies they seldom disappoint.
Southern Red Salamanders (Pseudotriton ruber vioscai)At this point it was mid-afternoon and as warm/dry as it was going to get, so I circled back around to check up on our second Timber Rattlesnake. This time I approached from a different angle, coming up the hill from the direction the snake was facing initially. I knew exactly where it was going to be sitting, but still found myself staring for several seconds before my eyes were able to pick the shape of the snake out of the leaf litter. It hadn't moved much, aside from perhaps moving a few inches further out of its burrow. The snake seemed to be sleeping or perhaps very lethargic after being inactive during the several weeks of cold weather prior, and didn't react whatsoever to my presence as I took photos.
Timber Rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus)
Timber Rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus)The day seemed to be winding down all too soon, as most nice Winter days do. Even on the nicest of days, by 3:30-4pm the sun is behind the trees and the air begins to noticeably cool down. So I decided to spend my last hour or so of good light making a final sweep through the snakiest habitat to see if any new individuals had emerged. A weird protrusion coming out of a tree caught my eye as I was walking along, yet another Ratsnake poking out of a hole that looked smaller than its head. I was actually worried the snake had gotten stuck for a moment, until I began to move closer and it somehow sucked its head back into the tree.
Eastern Ratsnake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis) 
Eastern Ratsnake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis)A little further past the Ratsnake, I ended the day with a familiar face. I first saw this Cottonmouth in 2020, basking at this same stump. This snake is easily recognizable because it somehow maintains the body weight of an overfed captive snake in the wild. This was definitely the leanest I've ever seen him, but he still looks much better off than a typical mid winter Cottonmouth. I took a few photos and begrudgingly began the drive home. There is something extra magical about those random winter days that are warm enough to bring snakes out, and I am always sad when we return to the regular frigid overnights.
Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus)My winter sadness was short lived as I had plans to take a multi-day trip to South Georgia and Florida with my incredibly supportive and tolerant better half, Caitlin. Weather forecasts looked fairly promising at the time of departure, and temperatures were warm enough we decided to spend the first day flipping some cover on our way south. The sky was overcast but it was humid and around 75º, pretty great conditions for January. In hindsight I would have liked to spend more time flipping, but we did want to get to Florida on schedule because an incoming cold front was threatening to winter weather back as far south as Orlando within a couple of days. This trip wasn't a great start to my travels for 2023 logistically speaking, but at the end of the day the you can't change the weather and that was our biggest issue throughout the trip (winter is as winter does). I didn't know it at the time, but we spent most of the best weather of the week driving to our destination for the first night. Regardless, the drive wasn't without highlights as we flipped two adult Gray Ratsnakes under tin at our final stops of the day.
Gray Ratsnake (Pantherophis spiloides) This second snake was tucked under a small portion of a board that was loaded with fire ants. I got stung multiple times just pulling the snake out and removing ants, I released him under a nearby board that was equally suitable but without the invasive ants. I often flip snakes under the same cover with fire ants, and I actually like the effect fire ants can have on the soil under cover, but I don't see snakes right up against ants like this often. I thought it was especially odd considering the abundance of alternative boards nearby.
Gray Ratsnake (Pantherophis spiloides)The second day of the trip was dedicated to hiking around in the swamps of deep south Georgia, and the forecast was looking promising. Not as warm as the day before, but 70º and sunny is always fine weather to be outside in. The morning was cool but started strong with some distant basking turtles and American Alligators, a promising omen for the next few hours. Although most of the turtles were too far away to identify, I did photograph my first turtle of the year in a roadside ditch. This was a very tolerant young Florida Cooter (Pseudemys floridana), a species I have hardly any photos of.
Florida Cooter (Pseudemys floridana)Happy to be on the board with some turtles, we set out to begin hiking some areas I had never visited before. This is always the most exciting part of herping for me, the potential of visiting a new area with promising habitat under promising conditions. I had high hopes, low expectations, and all day ahead of me. Eventually the Green Anoles started to come out of the holes in the dead hardwood snags, and it felt warm in the sun by mid morning. On a small grassy island surrounded by blackwater, I spotted the first Florida Cottonmouth of the day.
Florida Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon conanti) Widely recognized this as a full species these days, Agkistrodon conanti occurs throughout Florida and a loosely defined region of both south Georgia and Alabama. The common name "Northern Cottonmouth" has been proposed for to the rest of the Cottonmouths northward. I'll just call them all Cottonmouths if we're going to be ambiguous about things. A few minutes later Caitlin made a great spot on another Cottonmouth sitting in the shade. I can't imagine that spot gets much sun during the winter, the shadows were so dark I didn't bother trying to get a photo of it.
Our next snake came while walking a recently disturbed trail. I think recent trail maintenance using machinery caused the disturbed appearance, but it almost looked like a band of unscrupulous herpers came through with logs thrown out of place and pine snags stripped of most of their bark. This Corn Snake (last fall's baby) was poking out of the only piece of bark left on this tree right next to the trail. I always love seeing snakes basking on snags like this.
I was pretty optimistic about the rest of the day after finding a few snakes in some very thick and fire suppressed habitat. I knew if we could get into some more open woods the snakes would be much easier to find. Ironically, only a few minutes after leaving the car at our next site a thick layer of smoke began to overtake the forest. This photo was taken right when it first started to look hazy. Within 15 minutes my eyes were watering and I was stumbling my way back to the car. Evidently the land managers agreed that this place was fire suppressed and an upwind controlled burn was bellowing smoke straight towards us. Although the land will greatly benefit, I was admittedly frustrated at the ironic way our day came to an end. "Can't find snakes because the habitat is too overgrown" to "can't find snakes because the habitat is on fire and I can't see or breathe" within 30 minutes. As you can tell from this photo, even the "more open" habitat is still very thick and difficult to see snakes in without a fresh burn even in the middle of winter.
We ended the day walking around some dunes and beach habitat right on the ocean in north Florida, mostly sight seeing after finding the flip site I hoped to check bulldozed to keep the coast looking clean for the tourists.....
The trip really snowballed after the Corn Snake, and seemingly nothing went our way as we struggled to scrounge up even the most common herps in north and central Florida for the next few days. The following day was plagued by almost nonstop rain. I went by a couple of places to see what they looked like for potential future visits in better conditions, and then set my eyes on flipping junk in hopes that things would be hunkered down staying dry. I stopped on the way to photograph some roadside Sandhill Cranes, a species I rarely see and have never photographed in north Georgia (I'm an opportunistic bird photographer). We had a few breaks in the rain and spent a decent amount of time flipping some promising spots with little to show for it.
Other than a handful of invasive Greenhouse Frogs, this Peninsula Mole Skink (Plestiodon egregius onocrepis) was the only herp seen that day. I was pretty happy with this find, as it was only the second time I had seen this beautiful skink species in the wild.
The previous individuals I found had much more of the incredible purple coloration this subspecies is known for. Here is one I photographed on my previous trip to this area with the legendary Jake Scott (locally known as Jack). Mole Skinks are always cool, but this one was ridiculously cool.
The next day we were blessed with fantastic warm and partly cloudy weather, a freshly burned pine forest of the highest quality I've ever seen, and maybe 2 or 3 Fence Lizards and Anoles. Sometimes thats just how it goes, especially in the winter and midsummer. Nevertheless, it was a great place to hike around and enjoy the break from cold and rain. I'm sure I'll find something here eventually.
Gopher Tortoise burrow, one of many scattered throughout the forest here.
A cold front blew in the final day of the trip, and temperatures only got into the mid 50's. We decided to make a few quick stops at reliable flip sites, but mostly tackle the long drive home since conditions were sub-optimal and we didn't see any activity during the fantastic weather the day before. Our main stop was a place in North Florida that is almost always teeming with life, and today was no exception. The sun was shining, and male Green Anoles were out doing push-ups and chasing tail. In hindsight I should've taken the time to photograph some of these impressive lizards, but I was too focused on trying to find snakes as usual. And find snakes I did, 3 of them! An unhealthy Banded Watersnake with a healing wound was seen basking, and I found a beautiful Peninsula Ribbon Snake and a Southern Ringneck Snake under rocks. The Ribbon Snake was the only one I broke out the camera for, and these posts will be far too long if I make a habit of including iPhone photos of Ringnecks.
Back in Georgia my focus went back to salamanders until a warm spell in the forecast encouraged me to target snakes again. I thoroughly enjoy exploring wetlands during the winter, and visiting new areas in search of amphibians is just as therapeutic for me as looking for snakes although admittedly it scratches a different itch. Apples to oranges. We have a couple of salamander species that are downright enigmatic in the Piedmont region of Georgia, and I sink many cold days into searching for them and scouting new places throughout the winter months. My first outing back from Florida was one of these exploratory visits to a local park I had low expectations for. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the habitat. Numerous mucky seepages fed into a creek feeding into a river, and uphill from the floodplain there was even a series of waterfalls and rocky seepages.
This is the floodplain seepage, potential habitat for Mud Salamanders which have never been documented in this part of the state despite seeming suitable habitat. Mud Salamanders are one of the downright enigmatic species I mentioned before, only known from a handful of counties in the region most of which fall along the same river drainages in the eastern portions of the Piedmont. In some of these places east of Atlanta they are locally common, but as you move into the gulf drainages they disappear *almost* entirely. I suspect the transition from Eastern to Gulf Coast Mud Salamander subspecies could explain this, as we have several subspecies of herps in Georgia that act dramatically different from one another as you move across their range. Regardless, the fact that records exist in these drainages but the salamanders seem not to is fascinating to me. My hope is that they just occur in extremely low densities, on top of already being a very secretive salamander, and I simply have to put in enough work in the right places.
Following the small streams coming down the hillside, I found some scenic waterfalls along a rocky creek. This habitat is likely home to another enigmatic species (albeit much less so), the Carolina Spring Salamander. Like with Mud Salamanders, this area is at the fringe of the Spring Salamander's range in Georgia. They have yet to be documented in this county, but I suspect I will at least find larvae here eventually. The difficult part about Spring Salamanders is finding the impressive adults, larvae of varying sizes are often common under rocks and leaflitter in mucky sections of small creeks and seepages. Although I saw diversity of common amphibians here, the best find of the day was definitely the habitat and I'm excited to try this spot again next winter.
The following weekend I made plans for another ambitious salamander target with my friend Gabe. We planned to set minnow traps in hopes of finding Mudpuppys, one of the rarest salamanders in Georgia. Known from only a few scattered records (possibly as few as 2?), documenting this species anywhere in the state would be significant. Extreme north Georgia is the southernmost extent of this species range, and despite this they are not afforded any legal protections possibly due to doubt that they even occur here. We arrived Friday afternoon, set out traps, and spent the rest of the day looking for the many other salamanders the mountains have to offer. Our trapping efforts were not successful, in fact I believe we only captured one fish in total. This was the site I thought looked the most promising, the white tag is our trap label:
Despite our failure to find a Mudpuppy, we did succeed in finding some fantastic animals while we let the sardines marinate. This pair of Seal Salamanders (Desmognathus monticola) was the first time I photographed this species in several years. I wanted to get photographs of both species this year after the description of the Talladega Seal Salamander (Desmognathus cheaha).
For comparison, here is a pair of Talladega Seals found a few days later. I know a lot of people roll their eyes at new salamander splits, but I'm genuinely surprised these were ever considered the same animal.
Blue Ridge Two-lined Salamanders (Eurycea wilderae) were abundant in this same creek, and this orangish individual was particularly attractive. Wilderae are more boldly patterned and typically more colorful than cirrigera, the Southern Two-lined Salamander.
Several Southern Zig-zag Salamanders were found under rocks and logs further from the creek. Although locally abundant these salamanders are range restricted in Georgia, only occurring in a few counties in the northwestern corner of the state.
The highlight of the trip was probably this absurd Northern Red Salamander. For some reason all of the largest Red Salamanders I have ever seen were found in this same creek, and this one was no exception. Gabe for scale.
Not only was the size of this animal impressive, but he clearly had to fight to get that big. Covered head to toe in scars, purple, and missing an eyeball, I couldn't help but wonder how old this behemoth was.
The next morning we got up and checked our empty traps before going back for round two of salamandering. We didn't get into as much diversity as the day before, but we did find this plump adult Pickerel Frog hiding in a pile of wet leaves.
Gabe had obligations that afternoon so I pressed on solo for the rest of the day, mostly checking out some vernal pools in the area. I found my first Four-toed Salamander from the Cumberland Plateau region, and evidence that Spotted Salamander breeding season was nearing its peak in north Georgia. The Four-toed Salamanders in this area definitely seem to have a "look" to them.
The final 2 days of January saw a promising weather pattern start to emerge with some rain, mild overnights, and pleasant daytime temps. I decided to spend the 30th exploring another new area in search of Spring Salamanders, with the possibility of a snake showing itself due to the warming trend. I was immediately impressed with the habitat, despite the fact there were a few houses scattered on the ridgetops around the creeks. The water was slightly high and murky, an indication that the area received ample rain the night before.
After only a few minutes in the quality section of creek, I turned up a number of Talladega Seal Salamanders and a few Green Frogs. I turned an unsuspecting rock on the side of the creek to see a giant orange salamander flopping around rapidly heading towards a hole, and after a brief struggle I had secured my first adult Carolina Spring Salamander of the year! Despite their size, these salamanders are far from clumsy and can very quickly escape into thin air once uncovered. I took a few photos and decided to keep moving up the creek to see if I just got lucky or found an exceptional new spot for this species.
I continued down the main stem of the creek, which had a number of feeder seepages running up into the hills. These smaller seepages seemed like even better habitat, or at least easier to search due to the shallow water and abundance of flippable rocks. Sure enough, under a large flat rock in the middle of the seepage I uncovered another adult Spring Salamander sharing his rock with a handful of adult Talladega Seal Salamanders. This individual was smaller than the first, but had a brilliant salmon coloration that was more vibrant.
Satisfied with my finds and new site, I decided to wrap it up for the day in anticipation of a long day of hiking to end the month of January. Conditions on the 31st were forecasted to be humid, overcast, and unseasonably warm, so I got up early to meet up with another long time herping friend, Micah, for the day. We planned to hike uplands in search of the Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake at a place neither of us had visited before, but the morning fog hung around longer than expected so we started off in some fantastic salamander habitat while it was still soggy. This sphagnum moss seepage is likely home to Gulf Coast Mud Salamanders, as they are much more common in the coastal plain. We didn't see any Mud Salamanders, in fact we didn't see any salamanders at all here which I thought was odd.
We continued on, and as the day warmed we ventured further and further into the uplands with hopes of seeing snakes. The habitat looked fantastic for Canebrake Rattlesnakes, with an abundance of stumpholes situated uphill of the seepage complex. Eventually my eyes recognized a familiar pattern coiled in one of the stumpholes, but it was not the snake I was expecting.
This young Copperhead came as quite the surprise, although it made sense given the habitat. Despite how common they can be almost everywhere they range in Georgia, I had never seen one hiking in this region and only a handful on roads. On top of that it was January, and I rarely successfully locate a snake while visiting new areas during the winter. Nevertheless, I was very happy to see my first Copperhead of the year and break the ice for the day. Despite many more miles of hiking, we did not find any more snakes that day and only one other herp of note. A similar seepage to the one pictured above produced my first Apalachicola Dusky Salamander (Desmognathus apalachicolae) since the populations I have been calling Apalachicola Dusky Salamanders for years were split off into Desmognathus perlapsus.
Thats a wrap for January! I was fairly happy with how the year started considering the abundance of cold close to home, and unproductive herping on the Florida trip. As I finish typing this, it is now June and summer is rearing its ugly head so I have more time to write. This spring was one of my best yet and I plan to continue with these posts as I have time!
