Many of my herping trips start out only days, hours and even minutes prior to departure to a destination. They usually initiate with Dick Bartlett calling me, or emailing me, the idea and me replying with a "OK, lets go."
In early 2010 I was on a chorus frog kick and I wanted to knock out several species. Dick and I talked about it a lot but we never talked about which species, or when. On a Friday afternoon in early March, Dick called me and explained that he was needing better photographs of Brimley's Chorus Frogs (Pseudacris brimleyi) and we were going to leave in a couple of hours. I was still at work, but I managed to convince my boss that I wasn't feeling well and needed the afternoon off. They either think I have a serious reoccurring illness or, more likely, know that I'm lying and don't care, because my usage of "sick" time on a Friday or Monday are familiar occurrence.
We left for our four hour drive to South Carolina that afternoon. The weather report was promising, with high humidity and mild temperatures. However, this all changed upon arrival; the clouds had moved-on and a dry cold front left high pressure and crisp, cold temperatures. We decided to travel roads and listen for calling amphibians in hopes that something was bonkers enough to make itself known. The only thing we heard was a few distantly calling Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer) in a sea of wind-blown tree branches.
Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer)
Some trips don't pan out, and our disappointment was four hours worth of expletives.
Monday, three days after our initial failure, Dick called and told me that the humidity and rains would be back that evening. I was at work, and as per usual, I explained I needed to get off early again. This time something remarkable happened. We arrived in South Carolina and the weather forecast was correct! Some rain, but not torrential, and the temperatures were hovering around 60 degrees. The roadside ditches were alive with chorusing anurans. We hadn't yet arrived at the correct roads but we had already seen some notable creatures. A couple Midland Brown Snakes (Storeria dekayi wrightorum) were crossing the wet roads as well as a few Mole Salamanders (Ambystoma talpoideum).
Midland Brown Snake (Storeria dekayi wrightorum)
Mole Salamander (Ambystoma talpoideum)
We drove around for quite some time in the known location and stopped to listen anytime we heard vocalizing. Many of the choruses of Southern Chorus Frogs (Pseudacris nigrita) and Spring Peepers were deafening. This made it even harder to make out a small squad of Brimley's. After several twists and random turns we heard a call that sounded just a bit different. We stopped the car and the calls stopped. We waited. After a few minutes one would start calling, and then another. The short, high-speed trills gave away the location of our target. A sluggish stream that was roughly three feet across and a foot deep, was alive with these chorus frogs. They were all calling from the bank, which was almost vertical and several feet above the surface of the water. Dick reached to grab one, and came up with a clump full of sphagnum moss. As we were sifting through to find the frog, we noticed a dark mass moving. While he missed the frog, he did come up with a Carolina Slimy Salamander (Plethodon variolatus). A completely random occurrence.
Brimley's Chorus Frog (Pseudacris brimleyi)
Brimley's Chorus Frog (Pseudacris brimleyi)
Brimley's Chorus Frog (Pseudacris brimleyi)
Southern Chorus Frogs (Pseudacris nigrita)
Carolina Slimy Salamander (Plethodon variolatus)
We left that location and began driving. We were happy, and didn't need anything else for this to be a successful outing. We still had our windows down listening to the night's activity when we heard a single call of something else that wasn't a member of the usual suspects. We turned around and drove back to the call. "Pip...pip...pip...pip..." was the sound of a single Ornate Chorus Frog (Pseudacris ornata) a good distance past the treeline. I really needed photos of this species so I trekked in and located the pond. It was a shallow vernal pool filled with ample amounts of blackberry and brambles. The frog was not easy to pinpoint. He would call for a few seconds, stop, and then swim to another part of the pond. After what felt like an hour I finally tracked him down. I watched as he would swim underwater and pop up 5 feet away and call again.
Ornate Chorus Frog (Pseudacris ornata) calling from emergent grass
Dick and I still reminisce about this trip anytime we go somewhere and the weather doesn't cooperate. One of us will simply say; "remember South Carolina?"