As I stared down at the fat coils of scaly skin conspicuously intertwined with the rocks and vegetation, I knew instantly I was looking at a snake. I'd seen enough northern watersnakes, which commonly basked along the rocks near the water’s edge, to spot a serpent with little hesitancy. What did take a moment to process, however, was the pattern. This snake was different than the nearly black body of the watersnake I had just caught. Rather than dark, faded blotches, this snake’s body was punctuated with striking brown ovals against a soft, creamy background. I didn't know whether to believe my eyes. I blinked, fearing I had projected my field guide onto real life. Could I really be looking at an eastern foxsnake? The very species I had traveled here to find.
I quickly shrugged off my stupor, and grabbed hold of the very real snake. I was unsure of how such a large foxsnake would react. The only snake of this size I had ever caught was a rather displeased black racer. To my surprise, the foxsnake allowed itself to be lifted from the stones without distress. Stretched out, she appeared to be pushing 4.5 feet in length, and was certainly the fattest snake I had ever caught. Midway down her body, her skin bulged—evidence of a recent meal (perhaps a bullfrog or a chipmunk). She gripped my hand firmly with her tail, but did not musk or strike. She simply explored my arms, probing with her brilliantly orange head.
“Foxsnake! I have one!” I called to my herping companion, Everrett Meredith. Everrett was an old high school friend, and a recently converted wildlife enthusiast. He had abandoned an engineering major to pursue a passion for nature. He was now studying Environmental and Field Biology at Ohio Northern University and had been racking up lifers by the dozens. After venturing down the birding rabbit-hole, he had quickly amassed a life list near equal to my own in a fraction of the time.
I was home in Cleveland for the 4th of July weekend. Unable to pass up the opportunity to search for some of northern Ohio’s more unusual reptiles, I had been checking out new herping locations each day. The previous day’s search had taken me to several wetlands along Lake Erie in search of foxsnakes, Blanding’s turtles, and Butler’s garter snakes (turning up empty on all accounts). Disappointed by my lack of success, I almost decided to stay home and catch up on some reading.
Luckily, I resolved to ask Everrett to accompany me to a wetland in Erie County known for its Blanding’s turtle population and an abundance of eastern fox snakes. I knew our chances of finding either of these unusual species was slim, but I decided to give it one last try (I would be heading back down to Athens in a few days). Everrett agreed to drive us out while my car was in the shop with engine troubles.
We arrived in the early afternoon; the day was gloomy and humid. I had been to this wetland once before, in late winter, but never in the summer when reptiles might be active. As we stepped into the forest, I felt as if we had been transported back in time; the dense canopy and understory enveloped us in lush greenery.
“Red-headed woodpeckers!” Everrett pointed out. About five or six of my favorite woodpecker species were flitting about from tree to tree. Their brilliant scarlet heads and necks were unmistakable, and their striking white wing patches and bellies contrasted sharply with black shoulders and tail feathers. Usually a noisy species, these woodpeckers were eerily silent. They were in continuous motion, never resting on any one branch for very long. An uncommon bird, I had never seen so many red-headed woodpeckers all at once before. We watched in awe for several minutes, pondering their peculiar behavior, before continuing our hunt for reptiles.
What I can confirm, however, is the beauty and gentle disposition of this species. With their pleasing tan, brown, and orange scales, foxsnakes might be Ohio’s most ornately patterned snakes. This member of the ratsnake family is one of the most calm snakes, even when encountered in the wild. While being handled, the individual we found never attempted to bite.
Only occurring in five of Ohio’s 88 counties, eastern foxsnakes are listed as a state species of concern. They inhabit the emergent wetlands and woods along Lake Erie and the Lake Erie Islands. Although they are less adept at climbing than their ratsnake cousins, foxsnakes are more accomplished swimmers. Like northern watersnakes, foxsnakes commonly bask along the waters edge on large rocks or suspended in short shrubs. They grow much longer than watersnakes, attaining lengths of more than 5 feet.
Unfortunately, due to their orange or coppery heads, and their tendency to vibrate their tails when feeling threatened, foxsnakes are commonly mistaken for venomous copperheads or timber rattlesnakes. These harmless, gentle giants are often wrongfully killed due to this confusion.
I suspect my cheers of delight upon discovery of our foxsnake could have been heard for miles around. It was such an honor to interact with this beautiful creature that I was sad to see her go. After snapping some photographs, we released her back among the rocks. Upon release, I was again surprised by how calmly she retreated. I watched as her brown and tan pattern slowly dipped below the rocks and out of view.
I had found renewed optimism in my search for Ohio’s rare and unusual herps. It was going to take persistence, dedication, and a whole lot of gas money, but I felt certain that these cryptic, scaly or slimy creatures would soon be within arms reach. We headed for home, feeling exhausted but satisfied. I stared out my window, imagining the adventures to come.
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