ectothermist's Journal

Surveyors: @arthroverts, @lexiechambie, @fowlivia, @tokkioka, @paperplum, myself. Under the auspices of @invertclubsocal.

We met upon a hillside in the Santa Clarita area of Los Angeles County about 3:15 PM, ready to begin our survey for Soledad Desertsnails (Herpeteros angelus). We walked out upon the hilltop, and for the next hour and a half searched extensively, looking under rocks, debris and dead yucca (Hesperoyucca whipplei) on both sides of the ridge. No snails of any kind were forthcoming, though several California Trapdoor Spider (Bothriocyrtum californicum) burrows were observed.
We decided to relocate, and at approximately 5:00 PM, arrived at the base of another hillside a short distance away.
This location was at the southern end of the Sierra Pelona Mountains, where the foothills began giving way to the Santa Clarita Valley. According to Macrostrat data, the terrain was composed of “Unconsolidated clay, silt and sand colluvial deposits on hillsides, commonly containing abundant angular rock fragments…”
The surrounding habitat was defined by relatively steep, rolling slopes covered in mixed chaparral. Immediately evident plant species included California Buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum), Chaparral Yucca (Hesperoyucca whipplei), and grasses. Some of this vegetation was clearly burned, evidence of past conflagrations in this fire-prone area (noted by @davegoodward in a comment on one of my observations of H. angelus). Scattered stones lay about, in highest density on top of the ridge.
It had rained less than 24 hours prior, and the ground and vegetation were damp. Clouds covered much of the sky, though there was no precipitation the whole time we were there. The ambient temperature remained in the low 40s F, measured at 44° at 5:15 PM.
At approximately 5:05 PM, I observed the first living snail of the evening, perched on a blackened yucca leaf within the rosette of a dead Hesperoyucca whipplei. The elevation on this south-facing slope was roughly 1,600 feet. Temperature and weather conditions were consistent with the initial assessment. At this time, the sun was about ten minutes from setting, though hidden behind the clouds.
The specimen was likely a subadult. Its shell measured approximately 13mm in diameter and had a dark band around the body whorl. The amber ground color of the shell was broken up by black striations on the apical surface, turning to spots in umbilical view. The lip of the shell, and the dorsum of the foot, were covered in the orange mucus that, according to a comment by @davegoodward on the previously mentioned observation, is diagnostic for Herpeteros angelus. The tentacles were gray-toned and darker, consistent with Gregg’s description of H. angelus.
After photographing this specimen, I carefully returned it to the dead yucca where I had found it. Several yards to the southwest, @arthroverts and @lexiechambie had discovered a second, much smaller snail deep within a dead yucca rosette. This juvenile’s size and the poor light conditions prevented me from obtaining detailed photographs. It had also retracted into its shell, so we were not able to observe the body. However, this snail did appear much like the first specimen, possessing a band and dark apical striations. However, it differed in its size (less than a centimeter shell diameter) and in possessing very obvious papillae all over the apical shell surface; perhaps a characteristic of very young individuals.
In the meantime, @fowlivia and @tokkioka had discovered two more snails. After photographing the other specimens, I hiked up to the prominence where the pair of adults were concealed in a small cavity under a rock, arriving at about 5:30 PM. At this elevated, sloping summit, grasses were dominant and rocks were strewn about in higher density than on the adjacent lower slopes.
At this juncture, the sun had been down for about 15 minutes and dusk had arrived. The weather and temperature conditions were still essentially identical as at first assessment.
The two snails were touching tentacles, head to head, perhaps as part of a courtship ritual. They were slightly larger than the first specimen, with shell diameters of perhaps 15-20mm (though I regrettably neglected to measure them). Their shells were more pale than that of the first snail, likely a consequence of age. However, the cream-colored apical surface gave way to pale amber with black striations, as it did on the subadult. The chestnut band was present on the body whorl, and the tentacles were darker than the pearly gray dorsal surface of the foot where it entered the aperture (though this gave soon way to an orange tone, due to the mucus, on most of the foot). The foot of the subadult, in contrast, was almost entirely orange. The shell lips were orange, as in the subadult.
Aside from these living individuals, two empty shells were observed, one of which I photographed. This larger of the two shells was found by @fowlivia under vegetation.
One other snail species was observed in the immediate vicinity of this last observation: two empty shells of Rumina decollata, an introduced, predatory Achatinid snail. This was a discouraging sign for the native snails we had just observed. Aside from the threat of human development and climate change, they now must contend with this voracious predator of other gastropods.
Sadly, the complete absence of snails from our first survey site may represent the extirpation of H. angelus from that locality.
However, the fact of this species’ continued survival, in an area relentlessly dominated and partitioned by modern human development, is hopeful if also astounding. The hillside we ascended was the terminus of one narrow finger of wild land, surrounded on three sides by houses, businesses, and roads. The contrast between the natural darkness of the hillside and the bright lights of the strip just below was blatant, and somewhat absurd. How many people in this city knew that just a short way up from where the road now passed, a unique form of life had evolved and was still holding steadfast after hundreds of thousands of years, at the least?
Development; now predatory invasives; and more and more, climate change. The Soledad Desertsnail has lasted this long, but if it is to survive, we must work to undo and slow the effects of modern human expansion in this tiny corner of the still-living world.

References
Alvarez, R.M. and K.R. Bovard, 2005, Preliminary Geologic Map of the Los Angeles 30' x 60' Quadrangle, Southern California: U.S. Geological Survey Open-File Report 2005-1019. 112 / 2665309, 2662641
(Via Macrostrat, https://macrostrat.org/)

Gregg, W. O., 1948, “A New and Unusual Helicoid Snail from Los Angeles County, California.” Bulletin of the Southern California Academy of Sciences, 47(3), 100-102.

On 11/16/25, I traveled with Bradley Rydholm (@bradleyrydholm) and Brenton Cooper (@cooper-conservation) to an obscure canyon in the Angeles National Forest. Our object was to find living Soledad Shoulderband Snails (Helminthoglypta fontiphila), as I had previously only observed shells.
We arrived about 6:00 PM and set off walking down the trail. The temperature hovered around 45-50°F. It had rained to some extent earlier in the day, and the ground was wet, though not soaked. Overall, there was less moisture than I had expected. The night sky was obscured by clouds.
The streambed lay at about 940 meters elevation. The terrain was composed of “unconsolidated, generally friable, stream-deposited silt, sand and gravel on canyon floors” from the Holocene and late Pleistocene eras, deposited by the creek. (Source: Macrostrat.)
Our first notable find, on the trail before it descended to the creek bed, was a Western (California) Toad (Anaxyrus boreas ssp. halophilus). This was the only amphibian of the night, and the first toad I had ever seen in this canyon.
We continued down the hill as the trail bent sharply to the south until it met the creek crossing. Strangely, no water was flowing despite the recent rain. Western Sycamores (Platanus racemosa) and Cottonwoods (genus Populus) lined the streambank, beneath which grew plants such as Pine-Bush (Ericameria pinifolia), Yerba Santa (Eriodictyon), and Sagebrush (Artemisia). The ground was thick with fallen Sycamore and Cottonwood leaves.
We poked about, but spotted little until about 6:30 PM, when I overturned a log and found a snail shell in the litter beneath. I photographed it carefully from all angles. When I compared photos later, it was quite obvious that the shell was the same one I had photographed, in the same spot, on April 6th of this year- which made it a Soledad Shoulderband.
At virtually the same moment I uncovered the shell, Brenton called out. He had found two living, tiny snails! Perched atop a log, they were undoubtedly Shoulderbands and very likely H. fontiphila, though at the present moment this has not been confirmed by an expert. However, I am not aware of any other similar-looking Helminthoglypta species in that area.
One measured a mere 8-9mm in shell diameter; the other was even smaller. They slimed about, largely unconcerned with my presence.
We kept looking and before too long had found at least seven more snails, all out on the crawl, and all similar in morphology if differing in size. Again, none have been confirmed, but I believe there is little else they could be other than the Soledad Shoulderband. I photographed two more before my camera battery died, one of which was the largest of the night at roughly 13mm shell diameter. Based on the (limited) data I have, it would appear that H. fontiphila does not grow to be an especially large species. The shell I had found earlier was only 12mm wide. In all living specimens observed, the shell was dull brown and papillated, with darker striations and a rusty-red band. Each snail’s body was gray, wrinkled, and fairly standard for a Shoulderband in appearance, though the largest individual had a reddish tone compared to the others; perhaps a result of age.
After searching along the path for a while, we left it to continue down the streambed where it curved to the west. However, instead of the watercourse, we came across a wide patch of long, damp grass, interspersed with large willow trees (genus Salix) and some wild roses (Rosa), amongst other species. The streambed was more broad than I had assumed. Two additional Soledad Shoulderbands presented themselves, but their choice of environs seemed unusual: they were crawling over the wet grass, one even perched precariously high on a stem.
I had never before seen Shoulderbands of any species on the crawl in such an environment. I was more used to observing them on logs and leaf litter. However, these fontiphila seemed equally comfortable in both microhabitats, which despite their close proximity were very different.
We backtracked and began the short walk back uphill to the car. The temperature remained consistent, between 45-50°F. Before long, Bradley spotted a final Shoulderband. Once again, the microhabitat was different; this last snail was perched on the face of a large rock, within the chaparral adjacent to the dry creekbed, a rather exposed situation. Most Shoulderbands I have seen were under tree canopy, but H. fontiphila seems more adaptable in habits. If this is a reasonable generalization, one does wonder why they are so restricted in range. What pressures have kept them within the few small canyons they occupy? And looking forward, what pressures may conspire to bring them closer to extinction? Development, perhaps (though their range is relatively untouched, being entirely or almost entirely within the Angeles National Forest). Competition with introduced species is also a possibility, though luckily we found no evidence of this. It may be climate change that is the most critical factor, as weather and conditions become more extreme and begin disrupting native species’ natural cycles.
However, despite these negative pressures, I was still pleased at the large number of snails we saw on this night. At least in this particular, remote canyon, their population density remains high. The Soledad Shoulderband might survive for a long time yet.

Original description by Gregg, W. O. (1931).
https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/page/8527878
Two new Helicoids from Los Angeles County, California. (1931). The Nautilus, 45, 47--51. https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/part/39538

(The differentiation from Helminthoglypta [cuyamacensis] venturensis is notable in its inclusion here, as is the description of H. fontiphila as an “odd race.” Also, given the shell papillation and affinity with H. venturensis, I suspect that fontiphila is a member of the coyote species group.)

8/6/23
Started off the day, photography-wise, with a large, black Carabid beetle (species Carabus taedatus) under a log. While I was photographing it, a brown jumping spider, genus Evarcha, came onto the scene. I photographed it as well.
I next wandered down to the back of the cabin and examined the rocks there for fossils. This resulted in finding the imprints of two Brachiopod valves.
Heading down to the valley on the south side, I was surprised to encounter a large blue dragonfly skimming over the grass- the first one I had ever seen around the cabin. Also came across a very patient Orange Sulphur (Colias eurytheme).
Our excursion today was to a nearby prominence. We left the cabin around 2:30 PM. On some Rudbeckia growing by the path, I saw a Small Wood-Nymph (Cercyonis oetus); by the stream, an all-yellow blister beetle in the genus Zonitis; on a Black-eyed Susan (I think) farther up, an immature, green grasshopper (genus Melanoplus).
On the final ascent, Rachel pointed out a small, black-and-white striped beetle with an orange-red carapace. More of them soon became apparent. I had seen this species, Calligrapha continua, on a trip several years earlier.
On the summit, blue-green hills and gray-tipped peaks ringed us all around. Under the crystalline blue sky, the wind blew and shook the tall grass, peppered here and there with Owl’s-Clover, Paintbrush, Verbena, and more.
The thing I most hoped to see on our hike was one of the Greater Short-horned Lizards (Phrynosoma hernandesi) that frequented the area. However, by the time we got to the top, we had seen none. I ran through the possibilities: it was too late in the day (about 4:30 PM); the season had been too dry or otherwise inclement… What could it be?
In the meantime Rachel called me over to look at something. It proved to be a female Mormon Cricket (Anabrus simplex), the first time I had seen one on this summit and the first I had seen in the Pecos since 2012. The tan-colored “cricket” was alone, as was the last one- curious, given the species’ propensity to swarm.
In the vicinity, I noticed a small spiderweb with an orbweaver of the genus Metepeira perched in it. A small white clump of webbing was woven into the center of the web. This was the only one so far recorded on iNaturalist in the Santa Fe Mountains.
We headed down. We were traversing a stony, narrow path along a grassy slope when Rachel called out that she had found a Horned Lizard! I had given up hope, but there it was. The gray-tan, squat and spiky lizard ran in its characteristic waddling fashion when approached. After a little while, however, it consented to sit still for photos. I brought my lens in close to capture the miniature dinosaur-like creature, with its bulldog face and beady dark eyes. I had never seen one this close to the cabin before.
That concluded our hike, but I neglected to mention that we saw about a dozen Turkey Vultures wheeling through the sky above a meadow. Not sure what they were after; we saw no indication of anything dead.
The weather of the day was largely similar to previous days, with the exception of a wind strong enough to dislodge my hat.

8/5/23
Today visited Holy Ghost Creek. Temperature (in the sun) was about 80-84° F. White clouds scudded here and there across an otherwise clear sky. We were thrown into shade and sun alternately.
We took what I think was trail 283 at the far west end of the road. Just prior, Rachel found a sleekly patterned, black-and-white Jumping Spider, probably of the genus Pelegrina.
Further finds by Rachel included a large, pink-striped Crab Spider female guarding her leaf-wrapped egg sac, a Jewel Bug (family Scutellaridae) of the genus Homaemus, and a snail shell. I had never seen Jewel Bugs in the Pecos before this trip, but they did not seem uncommon; we have seen three in all, so far.
The snail shell was something special. It had belonged to a Mountainsnail, genus Oreohelix. I had only ever seen one previously. Like desert regions, the high-altitude forests of the Sangre de Cristos have little gastropod diversity, so the few species that do occur there are noteworthy.
Walking on a few yards across the stream from the first shell’s location, I was astounded to see dozens more empty ones strewn across the forest floor. Mass deposits of snail shells seem to be common, representing many species in different places. Why is this? How does this happen? Are many snails, perhaps, caught by fatal heat and dryness unawares?
Other species seen included:
-A Shamrock Orbweaver (Araneus trifolium). Rachel persuaded the relatively small, red-backed female from her leafy retreat.
-A variety of native bees. One was a Longhorn Bee of the genus Svastra, large, honey-brown, fuzzy, and green-eyed; other bees were metallic green; one had its abdomen checkerboarded in black and white.
-A Comma (genus Polygonia). I had previously seen several of these, but none would stay still long enough to photograph. This individual, however, was very patient and stayed perched for several minutes, on some sort of thistle in an open meadow.
-A red-hued Pinesap plant (Monotropa hypopitys).
-A great variety of other insects, including a Taxiles Skipper (Lon taxiles), Variable Roundtail hoverfly (Meligramma triangulifera), Coral Hairstreak (Satyrium titus), a Thick-headed Fly, species Physocephala burgessi, Cutworm Wasps (genus Podalonia), a Garita Skipperling (Oarisma garita), and more unknown. One insect in particular that I was not able to photograph was a white butterfly, its wing veins heavily outlined in black. It was likely a Pine White (Neophasia menapia).
Other observations: This creek and canyon were exceptionally beautiful in scenery and diverse in species. The complete lack of invasive Honey Bees (Apis mellifera), as in most areas of the Pecos, was refreshing.
This area experienced more wind while we were there than we had yet encountered on our trip.
The differences in flora and fauna of various, otherwise similar locales (canyons, streams, mountains, and hilltops) in the same broad area is intriguing- as are the similarities in species diversity.

8/3/23
On 8/1/23 arrived at my family’s cabin with Rachel and Julia, to stay for a week. Thus far, there has been an incredible quantity and variety of life, mainly insects, to observe and photograph. Species (known and unknown) include: hover flies, Adejeania vexatrix, Police Car Moths, a crab spider, Melanoplus, Blues, Commas, a Wandering Garter Snake, possible Aculepeira, slug, bat (inside the cabin), Ladies, aphids, Erigeron, Paintbrush, lichens, mosses, Antlions, Fireweed, Mule Deer, Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels, hummingbirds, Flickers, and much more.
Daytime temperatures peak at about 80°F, nighttime hovers around the high 50s. Mainly sunny, with some cloud cover. Last night a distant storm was visible, as lightning flashed and thunder rolled.
We have mainly stuck around the cabin, venturing only to the valleys to the north and south. Today, however, we drove to Winsor Trailhead and walked the trail up to the point where it heads uphill from the stream.
Some notes on natural history:
-Contrasted to a previous cabin trip in June 2022, the coneflower is very visible. Now is clearly its flowering season.
-I saw many harvestmen on thistles during the daytime. I was intrigued, since in my experience, they are normally more ground-dwelling and nocturnal.
-There seems to be more fungi around the cabin this year.
-At this high elevation (more than 8,000 feet), the selection of animals that occur is fascinating. Two species of snakes, one species of lizard that I know of. Very few arachnids, but many insects. In a word- why?

8/4/23
Seems a bit cooler today, more cloud cover. A bit after noon I went out to the stone wall, covered in birdseed being eaten by a number of chipmunks and Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels. Steller’s Jays swooped to and fro.
I sat as still as I could on the wall; the chipmunks dared to come close to me and the Ground Squirrels, even closer.
Then I sat by a stump that was also covered in birdseed. A particularly bold Ground Squirrel came close, pawed at my ankle, then, to my surprise, climbed up and sat in my lap for a moment.

Last January, Rachel (@paperplum), Boaz (@boazsolorio), @velodrome, @evn, and I met up to explore a canyon in the front range of the San Gabriel Mountains.
It had been raining intermittently for days, and the canyon was wet. We headed for the trail at the end of the parking lot, but before we had gone far, I stopped to flip a tree stump that was sitting on the asphalt. Under it was a Black-bellied Slender Salamander (Batrachoseps nigriventris), which marked the first time I had found a salamander in a parking lot.
While the others were taking photos, I wandered off a short ways and flipped a small piece of concrete. Under it was a beetle larva that proved to be a Ground Beetle, tribe Pterostichini.
Going on, we stopped by the side of the trail to observe some fungi. This particular spot proved to be fruitful. The rain had blessed the canyon with an abundance of living things- fungi, slime molds, and more. I photographed some pale and velvety Splitgill Mushrooms (Schizophyllum commune) with my new iPhone macro lens. I had gifted Boaz a lens, as well, and we were both eager to try them out on whatever we might find.
Translucent Crystal Brain Fungus (Myxarium nucleatum) grew from a log, along with some bright yellow Slime Molds, mere dots on the wet wood, and a vivid clump of jelly-like fungus. I am not sure whether it was Golden Ear (Naematelia aurantia) or Witch’s Butter (Tremella mesenterica). Certainly order Tremellales, if nothing else.
We went on, very slowly, photographing almost everything we saw, and there was much to see in the moist and living canyon. I stopped for some Black Witch’s Butter (Exidia glandulosa), Giraffe Spots (Peniophora albobadia), Coprinopsis uliginicola, Miller’s Oysterling (Clitopilus hobsonii), a very interesting Slime Mold that looked like a mass of pink bubbles, a large mushroom likely of the family Psathyrellaceae, and a Trask Shoulderband Snail (Helminthoglypta traskii). Not that I knew what any of the fungi were; all were IDed later on iNaturalist.
I moved quickly from specimen to specimen, and before long had left the others behind. Seeing wet leaf litter piled against the trees, I dug into it to uncover the earth beneath. My search was rewarded by a smooth-skinned California Newt (Taricha torosa) concealed in the crevice of a tree trunk.
The next thing I photographed was a mass of branched and wavy yellow stalks, so-called “Coral Fungi” of the genus Phaeoclavulina. Next came more Black Witch’s Butter, and then a log frosted with white, like icing or newfallen snow. Up close, the white substance was made of a great many fingerlike extensions, translucent and crystalline in appearance. It proved to be a growth of Coral Slime, genus Ceratiomyxa.
It was nearly dark by now, and I was again ahead of the others. On a tree, I discovered a black-and-white patterned spider of a species I had not seen before. I was able to get in a few quick shots before it scurried into a crevice in the bark, which allowed me to later identify it as a ground spider of the genus Sergiolus.
The trail began leading uphill. Green liverworts and vivid moss covered the cliff walls, and in the midst of them a young Arboreal Salamander (Aneides lugubris)! Its eyes were gold and its skin was silvery, both patterned like the sky on a starry night.
With no warning, a startling shout brought us all to a standstill. “Bear! To your left!”
Hearts pounding (or at least mine was), we regrouped. Who had called? Which way was "left"? We had to rapidly determine what to do next. Given that there were five of us, I felt fairly confident in returning the way we had come. Staying close together and with great caution, we did this, but no bear appeared. Had there really been one, or was someone pranking us? We never saw who had called.
After a while, despite the surrounding darkness, we began to feel less nervous. That is, until the beam of my headlamp caught two glowing eyes, far off on the other side of the canyon, staring down at us. “Are those eyes I see over there…?” I asked apprehensively. All flashlights and headlamps focused on the unknown creature, and we strained to make it out. The eyes were set wide apart, and glowed yellow-green. The head was round, the body pale… could it be… could it really be… it was! There was no mistaking that lithe, pale outline in the dark. It was a Mountain Lion!
We watched it, fearful yet thrilled, talking excitedly, until it slunk off into the darkness. What an encounter! It was the first time I was absolutely sure I had seen a wild Mountain Lion in person.
That was definitely the find of the night, but the night wasn’t over yet. We walked rapidly back toward the parking lot, staying together, and looking behind us periodically to make sure the big cat wasn’t following us. Before too long, we arrived at an earthen wall that I suspected contained trapdoor spiders. My suspicion proved correct when I spotted a burrow’s lid, slightly open; under it were a set of hairy, reddish-brown legs.
I moved too quickly, however, and the legs immediately retreated. Undaunted, I danced the end of a twig over the burrow’s mouth, attempting to lure its occupant out, but the spider wasn’t having it and stayed deep in its retreat.
On the way back to the cars, we examined the hillside thoroughly, stopping every now and then to look more closely at anything that caught our interest. This resulted in a “Tawny Dwarf Tarantula,” Megahexura fulva. The individual was a wandering male, no doubt searching for a female to woo. He was missing a leg; perhaps the result of an encounter with some predator.
That concluded the trip! We got in our cars and left the canyon, reflecting on our experiences that night.

Continued from Part 4...
When darkness set in, we began road cruising. Boaz, walking along the road during a stop, discovered the first finds of the night: a couple of Desert Ironclad Beetles (Asbolus verrucosus). These impressively chunky, waxen-blue beetles are known to feign death when approached, but the ones we saw merely spread their legs and arched their backs in a combative pose.
Then the beam of the headlights caught a massive white spider skittering across the road. Boaz and I jumped from the car and ran towards it; catching up, we found it to be a Prowling Spider (genus Syspira). After taking pictures, we resumed our hunt.
Heading south, we found ourselves on Yaqui Pass Road once more, where we found a juvenile Leaf-nosed Snake. I crouched down to get an eye-level photo, but was soon scuttling in circles on my knees as the snake darted in every direction. I finally got a reasonably good shot, and then was immediately off again to photograph a Straight-faced Windscorpion that Boaz found while I was preoccupied. It was a little more cooperative than the snake.
That was the last observation of the trip for me before we began the drive home, despite us finding another Leaf-nosed Snake. I decided I had enough photos of that species for the time being; for another thing, I was rapidly getting tired. I vaguely remember us pulling over one last time. What I didn’t remember, until Rachel reminded me later, was Boaz holding up a dead Glossy Snake (Arizona elegans) and asking if I wanted to photograph it. I evidently declined.
Then we drove on; then (very late) I was home in my own bed. It had been a successful and gratifying trip. I was fortunate to take it with two amazing people I am glad to know. Thanks Rachel and Boaz!

Continued from Part 3...
When I woke up I was feeling distinctly better; there would be no throwing up that day. Naturally, we wondered what had gone wrong with my stomach. Suspicion immediately centered around the fact that I had received my first COVID vaccination only the day prior to our trip. I had never heard of a reaction so severe, but the timing, combined with its only lasting through the one evening, leads me to believe that was indeed the cause.
That day we decided to drive out in pursuit of wildflowers. We headed up to two spots north of Borrego Springs, but as we cruised along the dusty roads, it was immediately apparant that our timing was a little off. The surroundings were as desolate as any in the desert. Having the whole remaining day to search, we decided to head south and west to Cuyamaca Rancho State Park instead.
The land rapidly changed from desert to greener hills, with a wide valley in between that the 78 highway traversed. We were in the middle of it when Rachel pulled over for a suspicious object on the side of the road. It proved to be an adult Red Coachwhip (Masticophis flagellum piceus), a lifer for me. This one, sadly, was dead, leaving me still in pursuit of a living individual.
We drove on and eventually found ourselves in the vicinity of Lake Cuyamaca. Yellow flowers bloomed in the nearby fields, and we pulled over by one of them. Rachel and Boaz got out to look at the flowers. I, however, was still under the weather and hungry (due to being unable to eat anything but crackers), and elected to stay in the car while they roamed the fields.
They returned after a while, having seen many butterflies and a tarantula hawk wasp that Boaz ran after but was unable to catch, and we drove on. Our surroundings were picturesque: green and hilly, with groves of pine trees silhoutted against the sky. I was reminded, in fact, of territory familiar to me in the high country of New Mexico, despite this area’s lower elevation and proximity to the desert.
We pulled off the 79 at what turned out to be Los Vaqueros Trailhead and went hiking. Various butterflies, other insects, Spiny Lizards (probably Western Fence Lizards), and some deer greeted us upon the trail. After a short distance, I began feeling tired and decided to turn back, while the other two went on. Back at the car, I waited and waited, and was just beginning to feel worried when they returned. Boaz was holding something behind his back and grinning widely. With a flourish, he held up a plastic container and whipped off the lid to reveal… a mole. The woolly little sausage-shaped creature was probably a Broad-footed Mole (Scapanus latimanus). When placed upon the grass, it ran in an exaggerated undulating manner, which looked especially comical when filmed in slow-motion. Having seen the mole safely back into the ground, we drove back to Anza-Borrego and were greeted with a spectacular sunset.

To be continued…

Continued from Part 2...
By now we were staying in one of the tiny cabins in Tamarisk Grove Campground, and we returned there to rest and cook dinner before our next adventure, which was road cruising for snakes at night. We set out on Yaqui Pass Road, Rachel in the driver’s seat. This arrangement was designed to make the most advantage of her exceptionally keen eyes.
Our first find was a Western Leaf-nosed Snake, Phyllorhynchus decurtatus, a lifer species I had especially hoped to find on this trip. The little snake, a juvenile, sported the comically large nose scale and bug eyes common to the species. Like all the other individuals we found over that night and the next, it would hardly stay still for an instant while being photographed.
It was around this time that I began to feel somewhat queasy. The feeling only increased before we pulled over for a large stick insect, probably Parabacillus. I crouched down to photograph it, and despite feeling rather sick to my stomach, was able to get a few decent shots. Before we found the next (and last) Leaf-nosed Snake of the night, I had begun throwing up. Despite that, I insisted on pulling over to photograph the snake, but the retching only worsened in frequency and intensity. It was at this point that Rachel took charge. Despite my feeble protestations, she herded Boaz and I into the car and began speeding us back to the campsite. Somewhere along the way I finally decided that was where I really wanted to be, and I kept my mouth shut even as I heard Boaz exclaim “Scorpion!” and “Snake!” and “Tarantula!” as we flew past the bemused creatures on the side of the road.
I gave one final heave right as we pulled up next to our cabin, before stumbling out of the car and collapsing onto the front porch, where I lay, not wanting to get up, for the next hour or so. In the interval, I heard Boaz exclaiming over a tarantula he had found by the campsite, but even this could not get me off the porch. Boaz evidently found several more creatures while I was lying there, dazed: namely a winged velvet ant, a few species of darkling beetles, and a Mexican Tiger Moth (Apantesis proxima). Eventually, Rachel and Boaz were able to coax me into a sleeping bag they had laid out on the lower bunk.

To be continued…

Continued from Part 1...
Our next venture was to Borrego Palm Canyon. At 2:00 in the afternoon, the temperature was intense, but we had plenty of water and dared the hike. My first interesting find was a beautiful snail that had attached itself firmly to a log. This proved to be a Borrego Desertsnail (Sonorelix borregoensis), a “lifer” for me. I know nothing about the biology of this species, but I assume that the specimen I found was in estivation (or whatever the proper term is for snails), and that it would become active when prompted by rain or moisture.
My next observation was of a small, prettily patterned Cobweb Spider in the genus Asagena, found by Boaz. Another lifer for me! In the meantime, Boaz had observed several plants, such as Desert Lavender, Brittlebush, and Mesquite, as well as a Straight-faced Windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) and some Harvester Ants (Pogonomyrmex). The Windscorpion proved too fast for me to photograph. Rachel then pointed out a black-and-yellow checkered Spiny Lizard clinging to the trunk of a shrubby tree, which I discovered was a Desert Spiny (Sceloporus magister). Next up was a “Dusty Desert” spider, a female, species Homalonychus theologus. I find members of this genus intriguing. Females and juveniles are coated in sand that sticks to their “hair” (setae). This makes them rather hard to spot, and also makes them pretty well unmistakable when you do spot them. Shortly after this I found the empty shell of another snail, probably also a Sonorelix.
By now we were approaching the stream, and the surrounding vegetation was getting increasingly lush and green. Here we found one of the animals dependent on this water in the desert- a Red-spotted Toad (Anaxyrus punctatus). It hopped away madly whenever approached, making picture-taking very difficult. I finally gave up without a single shot, but Boaz persevered and was rewarded with several good ones.
At last we arrived at the oasis, a grove of verdant palms shading the stream. This oasis, an anomaly in the barren desert that surrounded it, owed its existence to the precious water that flowed here. The palms were California Fan Palms (Washingtonia filifera), unique in being the only palm native to Anza-Borrego and to California. Under their fronds was another world, cooler, greener, and shaded from the desert sun. We wandered here, climbing from boulder to boulder in pursuit of life.
The stream was teeming with tadpoles, presumably of Red-spotted Toads, and the occasional Giant Water Bug (Belostomatidae), perhaps Abedus indentatus. There were plenty of flies and other insects, too. Boaz discovered several gaudily colored harvestman, their bodies rotund and orange but their legs spindly and striped black and white. These were likely in the genus Eurybunus. Before leaving the oasis, we found another Red-spotted Toad, which Rachel and Boaz both photographed; I, however, was feeling a little run-down and opted to sit and watch them instead.
Eventually we began the trek back to the car. The last find of the trip was a small brown scorpion under a rock which turned out to be Stahnkeus subtilimanus, another lifer for me.

To be continued…