Author: Axotl

Discovering the Fascinating Long-Nosed Leopard Lizard

/wildlife/long-nosed-leopard-lizard.html

Introduction:

The world of reptiles is home to a plethora of unique and captivating species, and one that stands out is the long-nosed leopard lizard. With its distinct appearance and impressive adaptations, this lizard has gained attention from researchers and reptile enthusiasts alike. Following is the world of the long-nosed leopard lizard, exploring its characteristics, habitat, behavior, and conservation status.

Appearance and Characteristics:

The long-nosed leopard lizard, scientifically known as Gambelia wislizenii, is a species native to the arid regions of the southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico. It is named after its long and slender snout, which aids in catching prey and digging into the sandy soil where it resides. This lizard typically measures around 5 to 7 inches in length, with females being slightly larger than males.

Habitat and Distribution:

Long-nosed leopard lizards are primarily found in desert grasslands, sagebrush scrub, and sandy habitats. They prefer areas with loose soil, allowing them to burrow and seek refuge from predators and extreme temperatures. Their range includes parts of Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and California, as well as the Mexican states of Sonora and Baja California.

Behavior and Diet:

As diurnal creatures, long-nosed leopard lizards are most active during the day, basking in the sun to regulate their body temperature. They are skilled hunters, relying on their excellent eyesight and lightning-fast reflexes to catch prey, which primarily consists of insects, spiders, and other small invertebrates. These lizards are known for their agility and can swiftly maneuver in pursuit of their prey.

Reproduction and Life Cycle:

Breeding season for long-nosed leopard lizards usually occurs in the spring, with males engaging in territorial displays to attract females. Female lizards lay their eggs in shallow burrows, where they are protected from extreme temperatures and potential predators. After an incubation period of approximately two months, the hatchlings emerge, ready to explore their desert surroundings.

Conservation Status:

Unfortunately, the long-nosed leopard lizard faces several threats to its survival. Habitat loss due to urbanization and agriculture has significantly impacted their populations. Additionally, the introduction of non-native species and climate change pose further challenges. As a result, the long-nosed leopard lizard is categorized as a species of concern and is protected under state and federal legislation.

Conclusion:

The long-nosed leopard lizard is a remarkable reptile that has adapted to thrive in the harsh desert environments of the southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico. Its distinct appearance, agile behavior, and unique adaptations make it a fascinating subject for researchers and reptile enthusiasts. However, with increasing human activities and environmental changes, it is crucial to raise awareness and take measures to conserve this remarkable species for future generations to appreciate and study.

The Sidewinder Rattlesnake: A Master of Adaptation

Introduction:

The Sidewinder rattlesnake, scientifically known as Crotalus cerastes, is a fascinating rattlesnake species that calls North America home. Renowned for its unique sidewinding locomotion and distinctive rattling tail, this snake has captivated researchers and nature enthusiasts alike. Let us explore the fascinating world of the Sidewinder rattlesnake. We will examine its physical characteristics, habitat, behavior, and remarkable ability to adapt to the harsh desert environment.

Physical Characteristics:

The Sidewinder rattlesnake is a medium-sized venomous snake, typically measuring 2 to 3 feet long. One of its most notable features is the presence of horn-like scales above its eyes, known as supraocular scales, which provide protection and aid in camouflage. Its coloration varies, blending perfectly with the sandy desert surroundings, ranging from light tan to reddish-brown. The Sidewinder also possesses a triangular-shaped head, heat-sensing pits on each side of the face, and a segmented rattle at the end of its tail, which it uses as a warning signal.

Habitat and Range:

This species of rattlesnake is predominantly found in the arid regions of the southwestern United States and northern Mexico. It thrives in sandy deserts, dunes, and scrublands, where it has evolved to withstand extremely high temperatures and scarce water sources. The Sidewinder has also been known to inhabit rocky outcrops and areas with sparse vegetation, displaying its remarkable adaptability to a range of desert environments.

Behavior and Hunting:

The Sidewinder rattlesnake is primarily nocturnal, preferring to venture out under the cover of darkness when temperatures are cooler. By utilizing its unique sidewinding locomotion, the snake is able to traverse the shifting sand with ease, leaving distinctive J-shaped tracks behind. This sidewinding behavior minimizes the snake’s contact with the hot desert surface, reducing the risk of overheating.

Regarding hunting, the Sidewinder relies on its exceptional camouflage and heat-sensing pits to locate its prey, primarily consisting of small rodents, lizards, and birds. Once a potential meal is detected, the Sidewinder strikes with precision, injecting venom into its prey to immobilize it before swallowing it whole.

Adaptations to the Desert Environment:

Surviving in the harsh desert environment requires remarkable adaptations, and the Sidewinder rattlesnake has evolved several strategies to cope with the challenges it faces. One such adaptation is its ability to burrow into the sand, seeking refuge from extreme temperatures and predators. By burying itself, the Sidewinder can regulate its body temperature and remain hidden from potential threats.

Furthermore, the scales of the Sidewinder are specialized to enhance its ability to move on loose sand. The keeled scales on its belly provide additional traction, allowing the snake to sidewind efficiently. This unique mode of locomotion also reduces the surface area in contact with the hot sand, preventing excess heat absorption.

Conclusion:

The Sidewinder rattlesnake is a fascinating creature that has mastered the art of survival in the desert. Its extraordinary adaptations, including sidewinding locomotion, remarkable camouflage, and ability to burrow, make it a true desert icon. While maintaining a respectful distance from this venomous snake is crucial, appreciating its remarkable abilities and the role it plays in the delicate desert ecosystem is equally important. The Sidewinder serves as a reminder of the incredible diversity and resilience of life in even the harshest environments.

w.feller – 2023

Battle at Chimney Rock

History of San Bernardino and Riverside counties
Brown, John & Boyd, James – 1922

 Typical of the troubles of the times is the following article from a local newspaper of February 1867: “For several years past, our citizens have been greatly annoyed by roving bands of Indians who come into the valley and steal all the horses and cattle they find unguarded. Nor do they hesitate to attack stockmen and travelers if an opportunity offers. Already Messrs. Parish, Bemus and Whiteside, and a dozen others have fallen victim to their bloodthirstiness within the past four years. Growing bolder by impunity, on the 29th of January, they attacked the sawmill of Mr. James upon the mountain, a few miles east of this place, having previously robbed the house of Mr. Cain, carrying off five horses and burned down the house. The party at the mill, consisting of Messrs. Armstrong, Richardson, Cain, and Talmadge, sallied out to meet them. A brisk fight followed when the party, finding that most of the Indians had guns and fearful of being overpowered, retreated to the mill. The next morning the party, having been reinforced, went out and was attacked again, the fight lasting for more than an hour. Two of the white men were wounded, two Indians were killed, and three wounded. A party was made up to pursue these Indians, and after following them, found the Indians encamped in the desert at Rabbit Springs. The company made an attack, the men having to climb up the steep mountains and over the rocks on all fours, and the skirmishing lasted until dark. The skirmishing lasted for two days longer when the whites were compelled to withdraw because supplies were exhausted. Four Indians were killed and two of the white party wounded.” The Mojave region came under the protection of Camp Cady, which was established as a regular military post in 1868 on the road between Wilmington and Northern Arizona territory, and about 100 troops under Colonel Ayers remained here until about 1870.

Tonopah, Nevada

Tonopah was one of Southern Nevada’s most prosperous mining communities, drawing hundreds of prospectors from its founding in 1900.  Silver was first discovered on May 19, 1900, by prospector Jim Butler who was traveling through the area.  On an overnight stop, Butler discovered silver outcroppings near Tonopah Springs.  When Butler’s friend Tasker Oddie  (later Nevada Senator and Governor) had Butler’s sample assayed, it was found to be worth $50-$600 per ton.  That August, Butler and his wife staked eight claims in Tonopah.  Mrs. Butler christened the first three claims Desert Queen, Burro, and Mizpah.  The Mizpah became Tonopah’s largest producer over the next forty years.  Later that year, Butler leased his claims for one year, collecting 25% of the royalties from the gold and silver ore that was mined. 

In 1901 several companies opened, including the West End Consolidated Mining Company and the Tonopah Extension Mining Company.  In January, the mining camp had a population of 40, including three women.  By springtime, the population rose to 250, and Tonopah’s first stage, the Concord, arrived from Sodaville.  In May 1901, Tonopah’s first post office and the largest building in the city, The Mizpah Bar & Grill, opened.   That summer, Tonopah’s population reached 650.  W.W. Booth advertised the district through his newspaper, the Tonopah Bonanza.  As word spread, more prospectors entered the area, and three large mining corporations were formed in early 1902: The Tonopah Belmont Mining Company, the Montana Tonopah Mining Company, and the Tonopah Mining Company. 

The camp was still relatively primitive in 1902.  Prices, crude sanitary conditions, and Tonopah’s isolation made it difficult to obtain supplies. This changed in early 1903 when construction began on a 60-mile-long narrow gauge railroad connecting Tonopah with the Carson and Colorado Branches of the Southern Pacific Railroad at the Sodaville Junction. 

By the end of 1903, Tonopah’s population surged to 3,000.  With several profitable silver and gold strikes, production boomed, and mining stocks listed on the San Francisco stock exchange since April soared.  A building boom followed the mining boom. There were thirty-two saloons, six faro games, two dancehalls, two weekly newspapers, several mercantile stores, and two churches built before 1904.  On July 25, 1904, the town celebrated the completion of the narrow gauge railroad with speeches, sporting events, horse races down Main Street, and several dances. 

The population continued to grow as transportation to the district became easier, and by May 1905, the Nye County seat was moved from Belmont to Tonopah, the post office changed its name to Tonopah, and construction began on a new $55,000 Nye County courthouse.  On July 7, 1905, Tonopah’s first city government was incorporated.  In the fall, the two railroads in Tonopah merged into the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad Company, its track gauge standardized and extended to Goldfield. 

Tonopah survived the financial panic of 1907.  The city had five banks, modern hotels, cafes, an opera house, a school, electric and water companies, numerous gambling halls, and several four to five-story buildings downtown.  In 1908 and 1909, Tonopah was devastated by a series of fires.  In May 1908, a fire destroyed an entire block of the commercial district.  A year later, the roundhouse and the machine shops at the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad burned to the ground.  The infamous Belmont fire occurred on February 23, 1911, when the 1,200-foot mine shaft of the Belmont Mine caught fire.  Seventeen men perished from the toxic fumes of the blaze. 

Mining activity expanded in 1912 when the Belmont mine and mill began operating in July.  The daily wage for a machine operator averaged $4.50-$5.50 per shift. The following year was Tonopah’s most profitable: Annual production in gold, silver, copper, and lead was valued at $10 million.  Several mills were constructed to process 1,830 tons of ore daily, including the Tonopah Belmont Development Company’s massive 500-ton mill on the east side of Mount Oddie. 

Tonopah reached its peak production between 1910 and 1914.  Between the end of  World War I and the Great Depression, four companies remained active: the Tonopah Mining Company, Tonopah Belmont, Tonopah Extension, and West End Consolidated Mines.  In 1921, four of the twenty-five principal silver mines in the nation were still in Tonopah, and Tonopah was the nation’s second-largest producer of gold. But on October 31, 1939, a fire destroyed the Belmont Mine, and another fire in 1942 closed the Tonopah Extension Mill.  World War II brought an Army Air Force Base to the area, but it was shut down upon the close of the war.  When the Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad ceased operations in 1947, Tonopah’s remaining mines closed, and the population dwindled. 

The total production of Tonopah’s mines over its forty years of production is estimated at over $150 million, and during that time, Tonopah produced many millionaires and statesmen, including Tasker Oddie, Jim Butler, Frank Golden, Zeb Kendall, and Key Pittman.  In the words of Nevada historian Stanley Paher, “Virginia City had put Nevada on the map; Tonopah kept it there.”

Tonopah, Nevada

https://special.library.unlv.edu/boomtown/counties/nye.php#tonopah

Searchlight — circa 1929-33

UNLV describes the history of Searchlight in the following;

“Gold ore was first discovered in Searchlight by Paiute Indians in 1870, 55 miles south of Las Vegas, but it was not until 1897, when G.F. Colton, a notable prospector, discovered a rich gold vein and word spread, that Searchlight boomed. The following year, the mining district was fully organized. The Quartette Mill opened in 1898 and soon became one of the city’s finest producers. In 1902 the first newspaper, Searchlight, began publishing, and the Duplex Mining Company constructed a twenty-stamp mill. In 1903 a miners’ strike brought the town’s production to a standstill until the mining companies brought in non-union miners to work the mines. The boom peaked during the spring of 1907 when the first train of the Barnwell & Searchlight Railroad arrived at Searchlight’s station to a warm greeting of a fifty-piece cowboy band. In 1907 Searchlight contained over forty-four working mines and a population of 5,000. However, Searchlight was hard hit by the financial panic of 1907.

The city recovered after a number of years and, by 1910, was noted for its fashionable and modern amenities and its commuter train. The community boasted a luxurious hotel, several saloons, a barbershop, a lumberyard, shops, cafes, union halls, boarding houses, schools, several stables, the newspaper, and its own hospital. The biggest mines were the Quartette, Cyrus Noble, Little Brown Jug, Old Bottle, and Duplex, whose gold production totaled $7 million. In 1934 a flotation mill was built, and a 30-ton custom mill ran briefly in 1935. However, by the late 1940s, little was left of the once modern boomtown of Searchlight.”

Image courtesy of the Franklin M. Murphy Photograph Collection, approximately 1929-1933. PH-00232. Special Collections and Archives, University Libraries, University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Las Vegas, Nevada. 

https://www.facebook.com/nevadaghosttowns

Johnny-Behind-the-Gun

from Chapter XXV – Ballarat. Ghost Town — Loafing Along Death Valley Trails by William Carruthers

A familiar figure throughout Death Valley country was Johnny-Behind-the-Gun—small and wiry and as much a part of the land as the lizard. His moniker was acquired from his habit of settling disputes without cluttering up the courts. Johnny, whose name was Cyte, accounted for three or four sizable fortunes. Having sold a claim for $35,000 he once bought a saloon and gambling hall in Rhyolite, forswearing prospecting forever.

Johnny advertised his whiskey by drinking it and the squareness of his game, by sitting in it. One night the gentleman opposite was overwhelmed with luck and his pockets bulged with $30,000 of Johnny’s money. Having lost his last chip, Johnny said, “I’ll put up dis place. Ve play vun hand and quit.”

Johnny lost. He got up, reached for his hat. “Vell, my lucky friend, I’ll take a last drink mit you.” He tossed the liquor, lighted a cigar. “Goodnight, chentlemen,” he said. “I go find me anudder mine.”

Johnny had several claims near the Keane Wonder in the Funeral Mountains, held by a sufferance not uncommon among old timers, who respected a notice regardless of legal formalities.

Senator William M. Stewart, Nevada mining magnate, had employed Kyle Smith, a young mining engineer to go into the locality and see what he could find. Smith, a capable and likable chap, in working over the districts, located several claims open for filing by reason of Johnny’s failure to do his assessment work.

It is not altogether clear what happened between Johnny and Smith, but Smith’s body was found after it had lain in the desert sun all day. There being no witnesses the only fact produced by sheriff and coroner was that Smith was dead. Johnny went free. Other escapades with Johnny-Behind-the-Gun occurred with such frequency that he was finally removed from the desert for awhile as the guest of the state.

In a deal with Tom Kelly, Johnny was hesitant about signing some papers according to an understanding. His trigger quickness was explained to Kelly who was not impressed. He went to Johnny and asked him to sign up. Johnny refused. Kelly said calmly, “Johnny, do you see that telephone pole?”

“Yes, I see. Vot about?”

“If you don’t sign, you’re going to climb it.” Johnny signed. He put his gun away when he acquired a lodging house at Beatty, where he died in 1944.

The Hog Drive to Daggett

TRUE STORIES – TOLD INCORRECTLY – A DESERT TRADITION

A totally unrelated photo of Leslie Kirchner riding his pig reminds me of the legend of the Daggett Pig Drive.

There were too many pigs, and it would have been too expensive to have them hauled to market, yet the little girl’s family needed the money to live in a hotel in Long Beach or someplace like that. The decision was made to drive the hogs to the railroad depot in Daggett as an old-fashioned cattle drive to Abilene. Betty was excited.

There were hogs and pigs as far as the eye could see, being guided by drovers experienced not with driving pigs but with small cattle. One-eyed Ben, the old man, said, “Driving pigs is just like driving tiny cows, except they don’t have horns, which is good because pigs are angry.” The hogs snorted, grunted, and squealed as they hurried down the dusty road. The trick, however, was to keep them from running and losing all their weight.

Little Betty cried when her father told her pigs were classified into ‘lard’ or ‘bacon.’ That meant the dreams of her two favorite pigs, Willis and Tina, wouldn’t be getting a pig wedding and then having a pig family together. Their future looked dark. “Lard or bacon?” thought Betty.

“Cheer up, Betty,” her father told her. “Have a stick of gum.”

And she did, and she stopped crying and went to live in a hotel in or near Long Beach.

The End

Fiction inspired by a true event as described in “Daggett, Life in a Mojave Frontier Town,” by Dix Van Dyke – Edited by Peter Wild.

About Water

Two stories about water, its availability, and value


Not long ago a respectable citizen of a little California town had to cross the desert at a point where water-holes were few and far apart. He depended upon obtaining water at a certain ranch, established at one of the oases on his route, and when he arrived there he and his guide and burros were in sad condition, having been several hours without water. He gave his guide a five-dollar gold piece and told him to see the rancher and purchase the water necessary to carry them to the next watering place. It happened that the rancher’s well was in danger of going dry, and he declined the money, refusing to part with any water. Pleadings were unavailing, and the guide returned to his employer and reported his inability to make a deal. Then the staid citizen arose in his wrath and, with a ten-dollar gold piece in one hand and a revolver in the other, he sought the rancher.

“There is ten dollars for the water, if you will sell it,” he said; “and if not, I will send you to Hades and take it, anyway! Now which will it be?”

There was but one reply to an argument of that kind ; the rancher sulkily accepted the money, the brackish water was drawn from the well, and the journey was soon resumed. As a result of this transaction, however, the rancher was obliged to take a forty-mile journey over the desert and back, to replenish his water-supply from another well.

John F. McPherson, of Los Angeles, manager of the Nevada Land Office, left Los
Angeles, in August, 1900, to traverse the Great Mojave Desert, on his way to look over the lands in the Parumph Valley, in Nevada. His experience, which was by no means uncommon, is best related by himself.

“I left Los Angeles by team,” he says, “to retrace the Government surveys and make field notes. I had with me two companions, one Samuel Baker and a young man from the East. We proceeded over the foothills to Cajon Pass, thence to Victor, out on the desert. It was in the burning days of a fierce, dry summer. The earth was fervid, and the air quivered with the sun’s intense heat, which poured its burning rays from a cloudless sky. Bad luck accompanied us from the very start. At Pomona, thirty miles from Los Angeles, we lost a horse and had to purchase another. At Daggett, out in the desert, which place we reached on the second day of our desert travel, we found the thermometer registering 128 degrees in the shade. We passed through Daggett and made camp ten miles
farther on, at dark.

“Eighteen miles beyond Daggett is Coyote Holes, where we expected to find water to replenish the supply with which we left Daggett at seven o’clock in the morning. We found the well dry when we reached there, and the place red with alkali. Near the well, two pieces of two by four scantling marked the grave of some traveler who had preceded us and who had run short of water before reaching the Holes. He had arrived too far gone to go farther, and his companions had remained with him till the end and had given him a burial in the sand and set the scantlings to mark the spot. Those scantlings proved our salvation a little later.


“By noon we had consumed all but about three gallons of our water -and we determined to save this till the last extremity, for we had yet eighteen miles to go to the next watering-place, Garlic Springs. Our horses were already in bad shape and nearly crazed for want of water. In their eagerness to reach it they plunged forward at a pace that threatened soon to exhaust them. Our efforts to restrain them by means of the reins were unavailing, and we were obliged to take off our coats and throw them over the heads of the animals and then lead them by the bits in this blinded condition.

“Just beyond Coyote Holes, on the road to Garlic Springs, is a fearful sink known as Dry Lake. Here the ground is shifty and treacherous and the wheels of the wagon sank deep into the sand. Just as we had reached the farther side of the lake the forward axle of the wagon broke, letting the front part of the wagon fall to the ground. This frightened the horses so that they became almost unmanageable. They seemed to realize that this delay meant possible death, and their cries were almost human-like and were indeed pitiable to hear.

“By this time the condition of my companions and myself was dire, and we realized that time was of the greatest importance. The thermometer registered 130 in the shade and no available shade. To add to our misery and increase our danger a terrible sand storm arose, blinding, stinging, and almost smothering us.

“It was like standing before a blast furnace, opening the door, and catching at the blast. There were 1600 pounds of provisions in the wagon at the time, and
if we abandoned that, we would perish of starvation. It could not be thought of. “We unhitched the horses and tied them to the wagon’s rear and stretched the heavy canvas which had covered the wagon over them to protect them from the sand storm. Our salvation lay with the horses. If they became exhausted or broke loose, we knew our bones would be left to bleach upon the desert sands, as have the bones of so many desert travelers.

“The young Easterner lost his courage and cried like a baby. The three gallons of water were divided among man and beast, and then Baker started back to Coyote Holes to get the two pieces of scantling to mend our broken wagon. While he was gone, the young Easterner and I threw the freight from the wagon to make ready for trussing up the rig when Baker returned with the scantlings.

” The storm continued to increase and soon became as dark as midnight. When it came time for Baker’s return, the storm was so high that we feared he would have perished in it or had lost his way. Hour after hour passed, but he still did not return, and we lost hope. At about 9 o’clock in the evening, however, he came into camp with the scantlings. His mouth was bleeding from thirst, and he was nearly blinded by the sand, but he had the material to repair the wagon, and hope returned to all our hearts.

” With stout wires and the timbers, we soon had our wagon in shape, and the freight was speedily loaded upon it, and we prepared to resume our journey. Our
ill luck, however, was not at an end, for when we attempted to attach the tongue of the wagon, the kingbolt was not to be found. It was midnight when we had our wagon repaired and loaded, and it was two o’clock before we succeeded in pawing the kingbolt out of the sand where it had fallen. Then we had twelve weary miles to travel before reaching the water. We were all in a terrible state when we started, and the wagon sank so deeply in the sand that our progress was fearfully slow.

“Twenty-four hours without water in the desert is a terrible thing. Baker went mad before we had covered half the distance to Garlic Springs. He was for abandoning the party, which meant certain death to one in his condition. There was only one thing I could think of to prevent him, and I did. I pulled out my revolver and told him I would shoot him if he attempted to leave the party. He had enough sense or sanity to heed the admonition and stayed with us. I had to carry my revolver in my hand, however, and constantly keep an eye on him. We reached the springs at ten o’clock and were all on the verge of delirium. It was several hours before our swollen and parched throats would admit more than a few drops of water at a time. We bathed in the water, soaked towels in it and sucked at the ends, and by degrees, fought away the demon of thirst. Baker spent five weeks in a hospital after reaching civilization, and we all were unfitted for hard work for a long time.”

It is easy to gather tales of this sort from the towns bordering upon the deserts. There are still more disastrous tales that remain untold because none survive to relate them.

From:
The Mystic Mid-Region
The Deserts of the Southwest
By Arthur J. Burdick – 1904