Here's another one - Enjoy!
Patrick
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The Houston Chronicle
December 21, 2005 Wednesday
HEADLINE: Color me impressed with indigo snakes;
Trip to Mexico yields sightings of three in one day
BYLINE: JOE DOGGETT, STAFF
BODY:
A water snake was better than a ribbon snake, and a hognose snake was better
than a water snake, and a rat snake was better than a writhing, bulging,
wriggling sack of all of them. That was our scale of measure during junior-high
snake-collecting forays along the bayous and fields in Houston.
And, beyond them all was the great indigo snake. The big, glossy, blue-black
indigo remains a true super snake, the most impressive non-venomous species in
North America.
...
Spectacular creatures
Mature indigos average 5 to 6 feet in length, and robust individuals nudging
7 are not unusual. The record, depending on which expert you believe, is
somewhere from 8 to 9 feet. Despite campfire tales, no 10-foot indigo snake has
been documented.
But, in the real world, an honest 6-footer is an awesome spectacle. The
indigo was our gleaming grail but we never saw a wild one - mainly because the
native range was far south of our pedal-powered sorties on Schwinn bicycles.
The "mesquite savannah" of deep South Texas is the extreme northern range.
Indigos are most plentiful in northeastern Mexico. And "plentiful" might be a
stretch.
Even amid prime habitat, the big snakes are scarce. They benefit from
uncommon protection (being known eaters of rattlesnakes and rodents), but
require considerable space and avoid urban areas. If you are determined to find
one, a large ranch in northeastern Mexico is an excellent place to start.
This was evident during a quail hunt last week with Rancho Caracol in
Tamaulipas, north of Lake Guerrero. During a single day, as our hunting vehicle
drove various ranch and farm roads, we encountered three indigo snakes. I was
stunned.
...
Remarkable day
To put the bounty into perspective, during the past 35 years of hunting and
fishing in South Texas and northeastern Mexico I recall seeing five wild
indigos. Three in one day was off the chart.
The old snake stick and collecting bag are long-retired, but I still thrill
to a significant "herp sighting" while rattling around in the field. I guess I
always will.
The first during the miracle session was a grand 6-footer. It was stretched
at length along the slope of a grass-choked irrigation levee. The snake was
warming in the late-morning sun.
The quail-hunting truck stopped, and I jumped from the high rack in the back,
sprinting down the near side of the levee. The startled indigo fled with
remarkable speed, pouring like a stream of oil through the yellow grass. It
disappeared within seconds.
I rooted and kicked and cursed - so close!
The second indigo was smaller, about 3 1/2 feet. We were driving along a
gravel road that paralleled an irrigation canal. The driver reached up and
tapped the top of the truck and pointed ahead.
The indigo was unraveling, preparing to scoot down the open bank. I vaulted
from the truck as it lurched to halt and ran after the accelerating snake.
It reached the shallow, mucky canal and swam across the water. For an
instant, I considered diving headlong after the snake, but common sense
prevailed. Wet, muddy clothes and boots would make a miserable day. That, and my
companions would agree I was nuts.
...
No. 3 a winner
The third indigo was sunning in the ruts of a small ranch road. The driver
stopped, and I bolted from the vehicle. We were getting the drill down by now.
The snake was scurrying into a tangle of brush, and I made a desperate lunge,
grabbing the final 6 inches of retreating tail. The snake turned to bite, and I
winced in anticipation of the hit, but a branch blocked the strike.
Following a brief tug-of-war, the indigo yielded and I clamped the neck
gently but firmly between thumb and curled index. My hands and forearms were
lacerated from thorns.
The indigo was approximately 4 feet in length, smallish for the breed but
shining with health. The dorsal scales were almost black and the belly was light
blue. Not a blemish was evident. The dark eyes glittered and the dark tongue
flickered.
I felt it calming and released my hold. The indigo glided through my hands
and I placed it on the ground. It paused with a raised head then disappeared
into the shadowed tangles. I turned to the truck.
"Good for you," the driver said. "You finally caught one. Now do you think we can concentrate on quail hunting?"
NOTES: Joe Doggett covers the outdoors for the Chronicle. joe.doggett@chron.com.
LOAD-DATE: December 21, 2005
