When asked: "where is your favorite place you've ever herped?" my almost instantaneous answer is: "Maine." This may drop a few jaws, but I may also be showing some bias It is, after all, the place of my origin, and it is still home to the majority of my family. It also may be, in large part, due to the mostly unblemished landscape where birch and hemlock forests, cranberry bogs and rocky, mountain streams are as common as the signs for fresh lobster that line the streets of Bar Harbor. Herping is a combination of many factors to me, and the whole experience must include more than just herps. I can travel all over the globe and see some of the most amazing critters it has to offer, but when I breath in the fresh, crisp air of a Maine summer night, there is absolutely no other place in the world I'd rather be.
The herps in Maine may not be the most spectacular or desirable to most, but they occupy a special nook in my heart. And most of them can be found within a few square miles of my dad's property in Somerset County.
The origin of all my love of herps started with a single hatchling painted turtle that my dad handed to me as a 5 year old. He was fishing and noticed it sunning on rock on the bank. He thought it would stifle my boredom, so he caught it and and handed it to me. He had no idea what door he permanently jarred opened. Those turtles were a daily encounter and yet it was still an endless joy for me, and it still is today.
Because Maine is basically one big, wet marsh and the summer temperatures hover around mild, you can find nearly all of the species throughout the summer months. Flipping logs and rotting debris you can even find Spotted Salamanders (Ambystoma maculatum) and Blue Spotted Salamanders (Ambystoma laterale) which can be rare finds outside their breeding season in most states. In fact, all of the herps pictured within were found during my annual one week visit in early July.
Certain snakes, like the Northern Redbelly Snake (Storeria o. occipitomaculata) and the Maritime Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis pallidulus) can be abundant when flipping a variety of cover. Less frequently encountered are Eastern Milk Snakes (Lampropeltis triangulum triangulum). I see them most frequently around my family's old abandoned farm, where they now have free rein over the neglected wooden structures. One snake that has given me more grief over the past 10 years than all others, is the Smooth Green Snake (Liochlorophis vernalis). Once I could find this snake with some frequency along the edges of a wildflower pasture abutting my dad's house. I can't even speculate as to why this snake has nearly disappeared from the area. I say that because this chunk of Maine has scarcely changed in the past 50 years. Pesticides? not used. Cats? same as there ever was. Lawnmower? Besides the turbo charger my dad thinks is needed on everything that has an engine, I'd say the areas cut are the same. Whatever the reason, I finally was able to find one crawling through the dew-laden grass one morning. I made a thundering noise of enjoyment that I cannot properly convey in writing. I'll try to explain what kind of noise I made. My dad, who is in his early 60's and doesn't hear too well, was sitting in the garage at the time. The garage is several hundred feet away from where I found the snake. I approached the garage and flung the door open. My dad was standing there with a cigarette in hand, and before I could say anything, he says "I hope that girly scream was because you found that grass snake". Lucky for me, it was. I unapologetically nodded with a satisfied grin on my face.
One of my favorite sounds is the roaring cacophony of chorusing Gray Treefrogs (Hyla versicolor) that irrupt from the willows prior to an evening thunderstorm. During the mornings, however, you can hear the calls of a different frog. The "cah-tunk, cah tunk, cah-tunk" of the Mink Frog (Rana septentrionalis) is less pleasing to the ears, but it's nothing compared to the stench that is secreted when handled. It's a special kind of gross that is akin to cutting into an old onion, or an old gym bag that you forgot to take out of the car for a few weeks; whichever is more recognizable to you. Wood Frogs (Rana sylvatica) are often encountered while hiking through the pinewood forests. They can be quite variable and always beautiful.
Other than the prevalent Eastern Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta picta) and Common Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina), the only other turtle within range of my dad's property are Wood Turtles (Glyptemys insculpta). They are certainly not a common sight and when I found one in a rocky brook, I showed my grandfather and dad. They both said they had never seen one. These are people that are in the wilderness all the time and my grandfather was even a ranger in the Allagash Wilderness Waterway for 35 years. They were enamored by the turtle and couldn't believe it existed in Maine. Whether they had seen them and mistook it for a snapping turtle, or truly had never seen one, I was very happy to be able to share this with them.
In my slightly biased opinion I think Maine is an under-appreciated section of our country. Mostly all of the herpetofauna found here can be found in higher abundance in states not so far away, but the beauty and solitude of the state make the experience of herping it a euphoric one. Just watch out for the murderous black flies.