http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2006-08-23-reptile-poaching_x.htm

WHITE WATER CANYON -- The driver of the SUV slammed on his brakes after his
high beams caught a large orange and red lizard in the middle of the road.
The "lizard" turned out to be a plastic decoy set by state Department of
Fish and Game warden Kyle Chang to lure illegal reptile rustlers. Chang
questioned the driver, Robert Sobolewski, who, it turned out, had a license
to hunt for such animals as the baby sidewinder sitting in a glass container
on the back seat.
It was the first of several stops that Chang, one of the few wardens in the
state assigned to reptile enforcement, made during a crackdown on poachers
in this 3-mile-long desert wash framed by towering sandstone cliffs about
120 miles east of Los Angeles.
In the world of reptile hunting, White Water Canyon is regarded as an oasis.
Spanning several transition zones, including sandy desert, boulder fields,
grasslands and forests, it teems with a variety of snakes and lizards that
tend to congregate on its narrow two-lane road at night.
That makes them easy pickings for collectors who cruise for hours in hopes
of bagging snakes such as the spotted leaf-nosed, the glossy, the Western
shovel-nosed, the Western Blind, the Lyre, the king snake, the gopher, the
rattlesnake and the Western banded gecko.
Of particular interest to connoisseurs are so-called "White Water rosy boa
constrictors," which are prized because of their docile nature and vibrant
orange and pink hues.
Keeping the canyon's wildlife safe from irresponsible collectors would
require a level of security that at this point is elusive, given the state
budget crisis. But by their occasional presence, Chang and the decoy he
calls Bubba have become deterrents against those who would exploit wild
reptiles for personal gain.
Setting the plastic back on the road, Chang said, "Maybe we can save a
reptile or two tonight."
Then he got back into his green truck crammed with radios, shotguns and
survival gear, and drove behind a hedge of creosote bushes. Hidden from
view, he switched off the ignition, turned off the lights and waited.
The man and his decoy are an unlikely duo. Chang, 32, is a husky officer
with an easy smile who never grew out of his boyhood love of snakes, frogs,
toads and salamanders. Usually, his work days are spent enforcing hunting
and fishing regulations in and around the Hemet area.
Bubba is his nephew's toy. "I just slapped some paint on it to make it look
sort of like a banded gecko," he said with a laugh. "Works every time."
A few minutes later, a truck exited Interstate 10 about a mile away, and
then headed toward this Coachella Valley canyon sandwiched between Mount San
Jacinto on the south and the San Bernardino Mountains on the north.
The truck slowed to a crawl and flipped on its bright lights. No sooner had
it screeched to a halt on a decoy down the road -- this one a small rubber
snake -- than the warden fired up his truck and roared up to the scene with
law enforcement lights flashing.
"Got licenses?" Chang asked.
State law allows certain reptiles to be taken from the wild but they may not
be sold, and each has a bag limit, the same as fish. In fact, a freshwater
fishing license is required.
The problem for authorities is trying to distinguish wild snakes or lizards
from captive-bred ones. State fish and game authorities suspect that many
wild reptiles are laundered through legitimate breeders or dealers before
being sold to collectors, or shipped out of state.
Three months ago, Chang cited a White Water collector who failed to mention
that he had 10 desert night lizards inside an ice-chest. In a separate case
earlier this year, Chang confiscated a wild gopher snake from a Rancho
Cucamonga pet shop.
Once taken out of their habitat, snakes and lizards cannot be released back
into the wilds since they may have picked up infectious diseases. For that
reason, Chang donates the animals he seizes to local zoos and colleges.
The 10 desert night lizards will be given to Glenn Stewart, a professor of
zoology at Cal Poly Pomona, and a strong supporter of Chang's work in the
field.
I've been concerned about over-collecting for a long time because it really
can deplete populations, Stewart said.
Chang could not agree more. Nonetheless, as someone who still gets a kick
out of crossing paths with a snake in the wild, he usually lets people off
with only a verbal warning.
It was after midnight when Chang ended his stakeout, tossed Bubba into the
truck and headed home. The fact that none of the half dozen people he
encountered had been arrested, or even cited, did not seem to bother him in
the least.
I'm fighting the 10 out of 100 people who take everything they find on the
road, from snakes to scorpions, he said. Beyond that, this is one of the
most fun patrols I do.>
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Game warden Kyle Chang waits as Mathew Bartol, 22, goes into the back of the SUV to show him his snake catch for one May evening at Whitewater Canyon in California.
By Ramon Mena Owens, Palm Springs Desert Sun for USA TODAY
Poachers squeeze the fun out of snake collecting
Posted 8/23/2006 11:35 PM ET E-mail | Save | Print | Reprints & Permissions | Subscribe to stories like this
Enlarge By Ramon Mena Owens, Palm Springs Desert Sun for USA TODAY
Snake collector Mathew Bartol of Valencia, Calif., holds an elusive rosy boa that he captured near Whitewater Canyon.
By Benjamin Spillman, USA TODAY
PALM SPRINGS, Calif. — When the sun sets on Southern California's Whitewater Canyon, it comes alive with snakes, frogs and lizards out to enjoy the warm desert air. It also comes alive with reptile enthusiasts and poachers.
The enthusiasts obey the law and troll for pets; the poachers ignore the law and snatch up slithering creatures to sell on the global market for wildlife. There's a license for the enthusiasts; there's not one for the poachers. The former would watch Snakes on a Plane with fascination; the latter with dollar signs in their eyes.
PROTECTING PETS : States move to shield animals 'used as pawns' in domestic abuse cases
The canyon and countless ponds, streams and prairies on public lands across the USA are the front lines of a cat-and-mouse game between reptile poachers and the people who watch over protected wildlife.
"Some nights are busy, some nights you don't see anything," said Kyle Chang, a game warden for the California Department of Fish and Game, who quietly stakes out the Whitewater Canyon several times a year.
On a busy night, Chang might make 10 stops, most to verify collectors are carrying a state fishing license, a prerequisite for catching reptiles such as the Whitewater rosy boa, a docile snake that makes a good pet.
Chang uses a rope taped to resemble a California king snake as a decoy. When somebody stops for the fake snake, he pulls up and checks for a license, bag limit or other violations.
While legitimate collectors — sometimes called "herpers" — don't cause problems, unlicensed poachers gathering for commercial gain can decimate an area.
Poachers flock to places such as Whitewater and Borrego canyons and Joshua Tree National Park in California and plentiful hunting grounds in Arizona, South Carolina, West Texas and countless spots in between. "It is definitely a problem," said Jeff Lovich, deputy director of the U.S. Geological Survey's Southwest Biological Science Center in Arizona.
Chang says California fines can be as low as $10 for people who forgot their license at home to $385 or more for blatant poaching offenses.
In nearby Joshua Tree National Park, federal penalties for pilfering wildlife can include jail time and fines up to $250,000, depending on the types and quantity of reptiles taken. Joe Zarki, a park spokesman, said penalties vary depending on whether the offender is part of a commercial ring or simply a child catching a lizard for a pet.
Rangers at Joshua Tree National Park say it's tough to quantify how much poaching occurs. That's because it's not enough to catch poachers with the tools of the trade — snake hooks, pillowcases, cages, Zarki said. "One of the problems is you have to actually catch people with the reptiles in hand," he said.
Lovich said Gila monsters are popular poaching targets. Named after the Gila River Basin in Arizona, they are one of two kinds of poisonous lizards. Those bred in captivity can be traded legally, but a price tag that can exceed $1,500 on the open market makes wild Gila monsters, which are a protected species, attractive to poachers.
Venomous snakes, and their non-poisonous cousins, are popular, too. The rosy boa sells on the Internet for $100 to $300.
"There is ... a bit of a thrill for people because there is a great deal of phobia among the general population," said Jack Crayon, a biologist and former herper (from the Greek word for reptile) who lives in Indio, Calif. "There is some satisfaction in handling something a lot of people are afraid of."
Chang says poachers occasionally will go to great lengths to snatch wildlife. He described finding people in Whitewater Canyon with frogs, toads and lizards stuffed into jars and snakes loose on the floorboard.
To sell native California reptiles within California, sellers need to produce documentation the reptiles were bred in captivity, not caught in the wild, Crayon said. California reptiles, however, can crop up without documentation in other states, and Lovich said he has encountered people offering wild-caught reptiles for sale.
Legal commercial operations, such as turtle farms in the southeastern United States, can lead to poaching, said Allen Salzberg, the New York-based publisher of Herp Digest.
"There is constant pressure for wild-caught males and females to bring into these farms," he said.
For some people, though, collecting reptiles isn't about money or thrill.
"They are so fun," said Mathew Bartol, 22, of Valencia, Calif., as he handled an 18-inch rosy boa he picked up on Whitewater Canyon Road. "What makes it so fun is the search."
Bartol, who had a license and could legally catch the boa, chatted with Chang and two other collectors. They talked about the weather and collecting conditions.
Chang said Bartol, who was collecting with his dad and a family friend, is more representative of snake-enthusiasts than poachers.
"Some people like fishing over hunting. Some people like reptile collecting over fishing," Chang said. "Like any sport you have good people, bad people and people who walk the line."