Fish in the Road

On the way to Meridean via Rustic Road 107, I stopped to help a western painted turtle cross the road. 

That's when I noticed ripples on the surface of the puddle on the side of the road - behind the turtle.

A school of tiny fish stranded by the receding flood waters on along the Chippewa River.

I didn't have a bucket or anything in which to transport them back to the river.   So I left them there.
Dinner for a lucky raccoon or kingfisher?

What species?  I didn't have a clue.

On the way home, I stopped at the library for a fish identification book.

They look like fingerling Gizzard Shad - favorite food of the Bald Eagle.

Blanding's Turtle on the Road

Just when I thought the "turtle in the road" season was over, I spotted a large bump on the highway - a mile south of where I live.  At first I thought it was a rock, or something that fell off a truck.  It was that big.  It wasn't until I'd dodged and passed it that I realized what it was.  A very, very big Blanding's turtle.

Note the yellow lower mandible - the diagnostic characteristic for this species.

I panicked.  It was "rush hour" in rural west-central Wisconsin.  Cars and trucks were zipping along State Road 25.  I stopped and turned around.  No time for a "k-turn."    I pulled a u-turn and stopped parallel to the turtle.  I held my breath as a sedan passed me.  I didn't want to see (and hear) the crunch/splat.

Fortunately, the driver missed the turtle (but not by much).  I hopped out and grabbed it, and hustled over to the side of the road, behind my car.

It was the biggest and oldest (the smooth shell implies age) Blanding's turtle I've seen to date.  Listed as threatened in Wisconsin, seeing one this size is a treat - but not on a major highway.

It takes 14-20 years for this "semi- box" turtle to reach sexual maturity - and the female lays an average of 8 eggs per clutch.  They can live 80 years in the wild!  With luck, this geriatric turtle will live to cross the road again.

Turtles Hatching at Weaver Dunes

I woke up this morning with the urge to get a serious dose of prairie.  I hadn't been over to Weaver Dunes in a couple of years - and it was time to fill my Prius with Minnesota gasoline (15¢ per gallon cheaper than the price in Durand).

So ...  Tom and I headed over to Kwik Trip then took the scenic route south through the Dunes.

We saw some great birds - a female Northern Harrier, Eastern Meadowlarks, Killdeer, Horned Larks, Vesper Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Eastern Bluebirds, Bald Eagles, Red-tailed Hawks, Sandhill Cranes, Wood Ducks, Great Blue Heron, Eastern Phoebes, American Kestrel, Northern Flicker, Tree Swallows, Field Sparrows, Great Egret, Wild Turkey, Ring-necked Pheasant and 2 Ospreys!

And we had big fun with the Prius and my iPod (using BirdJam to confirm the identity of the sparrows).  I played the calls through the Prius speakers.  It was amazing to see a female Vesper Sparrow doing her "come hither" breeding behavior - quivering on the road in front of the Prius.  And when I played the Horned Lark song, a gang of them in the attack mode, literally surrounded the car.

But it was the turtles that made the trip unforgettable - and we didn't see any until the ride back home. 

It was 2:30pm and 75º when I saw the first - a brown lump on the center yellow "no passing" line.  Turtle rescue time!  I pulled the Prius off the road and looked both ways before I hopped out.   Luckily, for the turtle, there was no traffic.

I picked it up and took a couple of photos.  A Wood Turtle.  I waited for it to pull out and show it's limbs, but no dice.  Then I did what you're supposed to do:  I put it on the side of the road - in the direction it was headed.

I hopped back in the Prius - feeling good that I could do something for this creature, but also disheartened, knowing the turtle-vehicle collision season is about to begin.

Then I saw this sign:

I had to stop, turn around and take a photo - how ironic, I thought.  It wasn't until I got out of the car that I realized how ironic it actually was.

As I got out of the car to take the photo, I noticed this little lump of a turtle crossing the road.  It was the first of a dozen Western Painted Turtles I saw on the road on my way home.  I couldn't help myself:  I had to stop for each and every one.  Turtle road fatalities are an issue everywhere.  Take a look at this link.

How small were they?

The size of a quarter!

Why were so many of these little reptiles crossing the road today?
It must have been a hatching.

But wait, don't turtle eggs hatch in the summer?
  
Painted turtles lay their eggs in late spring and early summer.  The eggs incubate for about 70-days and hatch in early fall. However, instead of digging out of the nest, the hatchlings remain hidden underground - in the natal chamber - over their first winter, living off the remains of a large internalized yolk sac.  They emerge in the spring - today at Weaver Dunes.

The little ones were heading towards the marshes.  Amazing!

There was however, one very large Western Painted Turtle sitting in the road too - heading in the opposite direction - towards the mighty Mississippi.

Big or small, I don't know how they survive any vehicles coming at them at 55mph.

But I did my best to save a handful of them.

Deer and Turtles

I live in "deer country."

When the sun goes down, I watch out for deer leaping across the highway in front of me. I've never hit one, but Tom has. Fortunately for him, he was in his old GMC Jimmy. He didn't get hurt. His car had only minor damage (he lost the "G" in the GMC logo on his grill). The deer didn't survive.

Deer collisions are not unusual in Buffalo County, Wisconsin. Deer are plentiful out here, and they are big. In fact, according to Field & Stream, our neck-of-the-woods led the nation with more than 300 record-book deer taken during hunting season, almost twice as many as the nearest competitor.

The first car-deer interaction I had out here in Wisconsin was a doozy.

It was early spring. I was across the Chippewa River, over by Arkansaw (an unincorporated community about three miles west of Durand, Wisconsin)  when I noticed an odd-looking deer off in the distance, standing in a freshly tilled cornfield. It seemed to have over-sized, deformed hind legs. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't a deformity. It was twin fawns!

I was still a good distance away when I stopped and parked along the side of the road. Tom and I wanted to watch the trio. But then a car came up behind me and zoomed down the road. The doe spooked and bolted across the road and into the woods, leaving her two newborns behind in the field.

I knew the doe would come back for her offspring eventually, but this is a heavily trafficked road. I felt conflicted: Let nature take its course?

Nope, I had to get the fawns to the other side of the road with the doe.  Moving the first fawn was relatively easy. I just scooped it up, walked across the road and put it down in the tall grass by the woods. As I walked back to get the second one, I noticed a couple of cars parked behind mine. The occupants were watching my drama.

The second fawn was smaller than the first - a runt. I picked it up and held it to my chest. I could feel its heart beating a mile a minute.

Then it did something unexpected. It let out a plaintive "bleet."

That stopped me in my tracks.  At first I wasn't sure the noise came from the bundle in my arms.  But of course, deer can vocalize.

I put the little guy down next to its sibling. As I headed back to my car, I heard a voice from one of the cars shout: Way to go!

What a difference from today's experience.

Same situation - different species: turtles. Two of them, just yards apart. One on the shoulder of the road, the other cowering mid-way across.

This time, I didn't hesitate. A big black Ford Explorer going the speed limit - at least 55 mph - was headed right at the reptilian "bump" in the road. I pulled my Prius to the shoulder, pushed the "park" button and ran to the little turtle.

It was in the worst location - right in line with the driver-side wheel.  But all the driver had to do was swerve a little bit to his right.

I was too late.  I waved at the man, and motioned him to move to the right.

He didn't.  The turtle was a goner, and I didn't want to watch.  

I cringed as the tire hit the edge of the turtle's carapace.  Out of the corner of my eye I watched.   Like a golfers "chip shot," the impact kicked the turtle up in the air.  It landed across the road, in the grass.

I sprinted up to it, expecting the worst. But when I got there, the little guy had pulled out its legs and started to scoot off into the woods - his shell and body parts apparently unharmed.  A miracle!

Then I turned my attention to the other turtle, who was waiting for me just up the road. I ran over, picked it up and after waiting for traffic to pass, plunked it down on the other side of the highway.

A car slowed down and the woman driving it asked: need some help?

Nope. Just helping a turtle get across the road.

"Good for you," she said as she drove off.

No, I thought, good for the Western Painted Turtle.


Western Painted Turtle - Chrysemys picta belli