Sweet Sixteen!

The 7th Annual Fall Tiger Beetle Trip™ is officially over – Chris and I rolled back into town a little after midnight last night. It was an amazing trip – perfect weather, unparalleled scenery, and a record-breaking 16 species of tiger beetles seen in 13 localities across four states. Not only does this beat my previous trip record of 13 species, but we did it with only five days in the field. At the time of my previous update, we had visited several locations in the South Dakota Badlands and Nebraska Pine Ridge and found ten different tiger beetle species, including Cicindela pulchra (beautiful tiger beetle) – our top priority for the trip – C. nebraskana (prairie long-lipped tiger beetle), and C. lengi (blowout tiger beetle). Our plan for the next day was to visit the Badlands of Wyoming to look for C. decemnotata (Badlands tiger beetle – appropriately) and the Yampa River Valley of northwestern Colorado to look for C. scutellaris yampae and C. formosa gibsoni, all three of which we managed to find (though with caveats – stay tuned). Our originally planned final field day was to take us back into Wyoming to look for C. longilabris (boreal long-lipped tiger beetle) in the mountains east of Laramie and the Nebraska Sand Hills to look for the delicate little C. limbata before heading back home. However, we were finally paid a visit by “the skunk” and did not see any of these species (although our sighting of C. limbata (common claybank tiger beetle) in Wyoming did officially break the old trip record). Not wanting to end the trip on a disappointing day, we delayed our departure for home yesterday and visited two more sites at the eastern edge of the Nebraska Sand Hills (sites M and N in the above map) – a clay bank site where we saw a robust population of C. denverensis (to augment the single individual we had seen earlier in the trip) and several C. splendida (splendid tiger beetle), and another sand dune/blowout system where we at last succeeded in finding C. limbata.

The day after the end of the Annual Fall Tiger Beetle Trip™ is usually a somewhat depressing day for me. Not only is the trip over, but likely so is the entire insect collecting season. I know I need the down time to process the specimens and knowledge acquired during the season, but the field work itself remains my favorite aspect of this pursuit. Nevertheless, the experiences from this trip will fuel my memories for years to come, and in the next weeks I’ll share some of the stories that unfolded. Until then, I leave you with this portrait of C. pulchra – looking rather annoyed with me for my persistent efforts to take his photograph.

Cicindela pulchra - the ''beautiful'' tiger beetle

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

2 days, 6 localities, 10 species…

Here’s an updated itinerary for the 7th Annual Fall Tiger Beetle Trip that fellow cicindelophile Chris Brown and I are in the midst of. We’ve spent the past two days visiting six localities in Nebraska and South Dakota. So far, we’ve found a total of 10 species – including every species we had hoped to see at this point in the trip. The list so far (in chronological order) is:

  • Cicindela (s. str.) tranquebarica kirbyi – ho hum, we’ll see this in several places.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) purpurea audubonii – über common Great Plains species, although the black form is always a treat to see.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) pulchra – YEAH! Seen in good numbers at one of the new South Dakota localities discovered in 2008 by Matt Brust (our personal chaperone for the day). Marvelous field photographs.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) fulgida – Only one seen, but Chris got a nice series of field photographs (I’ve seen good numbers of this species from my previous trips to this area in 2008 and in Oklahoma last year).
  • Cicindela (s. str.) nebraskana – Another “A list” species for the trip, but we’ve only seen one so far.
  • Cicindela (Cicindelidia) punctulata punctulata – also known as Cicindela ubiquita.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) scutellaris scutellaris – even though this is a common Great Plains species in any sandy area, I never tire of its dazzling red elytra and blue/green head and pronotum.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) lengi – The third species on our “A list” that we’ve seen, with some real nice field photographs from Monroe Canyon.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) formosa generosa – another common Great Plains species.
  • Cicindela (s. str.) denverensis – I didn’t expect to see this one on the trip (just a single individual at Monroe Canyon), but I’ll take it!

Tomorrow we’ll hit a Wyoming location where Cicindela (s. str.) decemnotata is known to hang out – a species I’ve not yet seen, either alive or preserved. Most sources regard this species as closely related to C. denverensis, but Matt thinks it is actually more closely related to C. fulgida due to similarity in form and shine but green instead of purple. Afterwards, in a major addition to our planned itinerary (hence the updated Google Map), we’ll go into northwestern Colorado to look for two very cool subspecies of the otherwise widespread species – C. formosa gibsoni and C. scutellaris yampae. If we’re lucky we’ll also see the delicate little sand lover, Cicindela (s. str.) limbata, but if we don’t see it there then we should see it the next day when we finish out the trip back in the Nebraska Sand Hills just east of Alliance. But before that, we’ll veer back up into Wyoming and look around in the high elevations east of Laramie in hopes of finding Cicindela (s. str.) longilabris laurentii. That one may be a stretch, but if we are successful then we have the potential to see a total of 15 species – that would be a trip high for me (literally and figuratively).

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Reunion in the Badlands… and beyond

Two years ago I targeted Nebraska and South Dakota for that year’s Fall Tiger Beetle Trip. I had gotten my first experience with what Nebraska had to offer with a long weekend trip to the Nebraska Sand Hills during the previous fall, and with my appetite fully whetted as a result of that trip, I made a full-blown week-long trip through not only the Sand Hills, but further west to the Pine Ridge area in northwestern Nebraska and the Black Hills of South Dakota. It was a phenomenal trip that featured not only tiger beetles (13 species in all), but rare longhorned beetles, aggressive rattlesnakes, and a stunning array of autumn-flavored Great Plains landscapes.

Ted MacRae and Matt Brust stand in Cicindela nebraskana habitat (northwestern Nebraska).

Probably the species that I was happiest to encounter on that trip were Cicindela nebraskana (prairie long-lipped tiger beetle), C. lengi (blowout tiger beetle), and C. limbata (sandy tiger beetle).  I can’t claim sole credit for those finds, since I had made arrangements to meet Nebraska tiger beetle expert Matt Brust and have him show me some of his favorite sites. With Matt’s help, both in taking me to localities and directing me to others, I found nearly every species that I was hoping to see. Nearly, but not every species that is. The one species I really hoped to see but knew was a long shot was Cicindela decemnotata (Badlands tiger beetle). It’s right at the easternmost limit of its distribution in northwestern Nebraska, and only a handful of individuals have been seen in the state. Another species I did not see was Cicindela pulchra (beautiful tiger beetle). You’ve heard me talk about this species on several occasions, referring to my experience with it in south-central Kansas (written up in this little note) and my later obsession – so far unfulfilled – with finding it in nearby northwestern Oklahoma. I didn’t even try to look for this species… because nobody knew it was there! It was not until the following year that Matt found it in the Badlands of South Dakota, and since then he has located a number of populations in that area.

It is with C. decemnotata and C. pulchra in mind that I make return trip to the South Dakota Badlands for the Annual Fall Tiger Beetle Trip™. This time I am accompanied by fellow cicindelophile and field companion Chris Brown, and by the time you read this we will be on our way to meet up with Matt once again and focus our efforts on finding these two species. In this far northern area, it is already late in the season, so success is not assured. However, with Matt showing or directing us to some of the localities where he’s found these species, we’ve got the biggest bullets in our guns possible. Since I’ve already seen many of the other interesting tiger beetle species up that way (C. nebraskana, C. lengi, C. limbata, etc.) from the previous trip, we will be free to devote all of our attention to finding these two species – including driving even further west into the heart of Wyoming, where C. decemnotata occurs a little more reliably. If I come back from this trip with nothing more than some great photos of one of these species, the trip will have been a success. If I come back with photos of both of them, the trip will have been a huge success. Along the way, I’ll still keep an eye out for other tiger beetles – especially C. nebraskana, C. lengi, and C. limbata, because about the only thing I would wish for on top of success as photographing C. decemnotata and C. pulchra is nicer photographs of these other species as well to replace the dreadful point-and-shoot versions that I have from my 2008 trip.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

The last survivor

This past June I made two trips to the Loess Hills of extreme northwestern Missouri as part of a follow-up survey for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).¹ I was hoping to identify additional populations, however small, of this tiny, flightless, enigmatic species to go along with the three that colleague Chris Brown and I discovered last year.  The results were good news, bad news – no new populations were found, but I was able to re-confirm the beetle’s occurrence at two of the sites where we found the beetle last year.

¹ Some of you may recall my excitement at finally finding this long-sought after species in Missouri – apparently limited to the state’s few remaining high quality loess hilltop prairie remnants.

One of the sites that I had hoped might harbor the beetle is Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge in Holt Co. – located very near McCormack Loess Mounds Natural Area where the beetle was seen both this year and last.  Squaw Creek features several thousand acres of restored wetland habitat in the Missouri River valley that serve as resting, feeding, and breeding grounds for migratory birds and other wildlife.  Located within the Mississippi Flyway, the refuge is best known for its large concentrations of snow geese and bald eagles.  Wetlands are not good habitat for C. celeripes, but it was not the wetlands I was interested in visiting (well, I am really interested in visiting the wetlands someday – but on these visits I had other goals).  Rather, it was the tiny slivers of loess hilltop prairie that still remain on the fingers of loess bluffs along the eastern boundary of the refuge.  Twice scouring these prairie remnants over a two-week period failed to reveal the presence of the beetle, but on the first visit I did see this lone, rather ragged-looking adult male Cicindela limbalis (common claybank tiger beetle).  Unlike the aforementioned species, C. limbalis is rather common throughout most parts of the state on upland clay exposures. A spring-fall species, adults first emerge in September, have a little fun (which includes feeding but not mating), and then dig back into the ground for the winter before emerging once again in the spring. It is one of the first insects to greet the new season (I’ve seen them as early as late March) – mating and oviposition occur over the next month or two, and by end of May these guys are pretty well spent.  An interesting feature of the populations found in extreme northern Missouri is their higher degree of elytral maculation.  Compare this relatively fully-marked individual with this female that I reared from a larva collected at Knob Noster State Park in west-central Missouri (incidentally, my first ever reared tiger beetle!).

This male is clearly among the last of his generation in this area – not only did I not see any other individuals on the entire trip, but he clearly exhibits signs of wear and tear.  I found him nibbling on this dead millipede (which larger tiger beetles are known to prey upon); however, I don’t think this guy actually killed the millipede.  Rather, I think he found it already dead and was scavenging one of the only meals still available to him.  Closer examination of the face reveals that his left mandible is broken off near the base (best seen in the enlarged photo) – whether a result of battle with over-sized prey or a narrow escape from predation himself is hard to say.  Regardless, with only one “tooth” his ability to capture prey on his own has been severely compromised, and about all he can do is look for already dead prey items on which he can scavenge.  As one of the last survivors of his class, one can only hope that he lived a long and fruitful life, killed much prey, and inseminated many females.

Photo Details: Canon 50D w/ 100mm macro lens (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14-16), Canon MT-24EX flash (1/4 ratio) w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask).

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

The real Eleodes suturalis

I recently posted a photograph of a clown beetle (Eleodes hispilabris) (family Tenebrionidae) that I found last July in the Glass Mountains of northwestern Oklahoma.  I had encountered that individual while stumbling through the mixed-grass prairie in the middle of the night in search of the Great Plains giant tiger beetle (Amblycheila cylindriformis).  Although I eventually found the latter species, it took a few hours, during which time I was forced to examine numerous individuals of another clown beetle, Eleodes suturalis – perhaps the most conspicuously common clown beetle in the Great Plains.  I didn’t bother to take photographs of them, focused as I was on my tiger beetle search and owing to the fact that this was not the first time I’d encountered that species in abundance (the first time being many, many years ago as they crossed the highway en masse just a few miles north of the Glass Mountains in Barber Co. Kansas).  In fact, I was becoming rather annoyed with them due to their great similarity in size and coloration to the object of my desire¹, and only when I found the previously photographed individual doing the defensive “head stand” so characteristic of the group did I relent and break out the camera for a series of shots (not easy in the dark of night).

¹ Wrigley (2008) even suggested a mimetic association for Amblycheila cylindriformis and Eleodes suturalis due to their similarity in size, shape and coloration (black with a reddish-brown sutural stripe).

Of course, that individual turned out not to be E. suturalis, but the closely related species E. hispilabris, a fact that I did not realize until several days later as I was examining the photographs more closely. Fortunately, I happened to bring home with me a live individual of what truly represents E. suturalis, which I show in these photographs.  I’m not sure exactly why I brought a live one home with me – I’ve done more and more of this in recent years, mostly just to observe them and see what they do.²  I think in this case, I was intrigued by the possible mimetic association between this species and A. cylindriformis and wanted an individual for comparison with the several live A. cylindriformis individuals that I also brought back with me.

² The singular focus on collecting “specimens” that I had during my younger years seems to be giving way to a desire to know more about species as living entities and not just their external morphology.

Unlike E. hispilabris (my identification of which I only consider tentative), there can be little doubt that the individual in these photographs represents E. suturalis.  No other clown beetle in the Great Plains exhibits the sharply laterally carinate elytra and broadly explanate (spread outward flatly) pronotum (Bernett 2008).  The reddish-brown sutural stripe of the distinctly flattened elytra is also commonly seen in this species, although occasional individuals of a few other clown beetle species exhibit the stripe as well (including E. hispilabris, which likely was the reason I assumed it represented E. suturalis).  All of the characters mentioned above can be seen in the photographs shown here.  However, I nevertheless find the photos rather unsatisfying.  If you think you know why, feel free to comment, otherwise you can wait for the “better” photos…

Photo Details: Canon 50D w/ 100mm macro lens (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/18), Canon MT-24EX flash w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask).

REFERENCES:

Bernett, A. 2008. The genus Eleodes Eschscholtz (Coleoptera: Tenebrionidae) of eastern Colorado. Journal of the Kansas Entomological Society 81(4):377–391.

Wrigley, R. A.  2008. Insect collecting in Mid-western USA, July 2007.  The Entomological Society of Manitoba Newsletter 35(2):5–9.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

New blogs of note

Every now and then, I like to feature some of the more interesting blogs that I’ve encountered recently. This update features six blogs – five dealing with entomology and one dealing with herpetology.


Aphonopelma: Tarantulas of the United States

© Kory Roberts

Aphonopelma: Tarantulas of the United States is a relatively new blog by Michael D. Warriner. With only a single U.S. genus (Aphonoplema), this may seem a rather narrow scope for a blog.  However, as Michael points out, research on ecology, conservation, and taxonomy of U.S. tarantulas has been surprisingly limited.  Their taxonomy, in particular, has been quite problematic, making accurate species identifications almost impossible.  Michael has begun summarizing known distributional information for states from which tarantulas are known (Missouri south to Louisiana and west to California) and providing detailed discussions for selected species with an eye towards enabling better conservation efforts for this neglected group of spiders.

Nature Closeups

© Troy Bartlett

Nature Closeups is the new blog by insect photographer extarordinaire and BugGuide (“a community for fellow naturalists devoted specifically to arthropods”) founder Troy Bartlett.  Featuring stunning photographs of mostly insects from his home near Atlanta, Georgia and his frequent trips to Brazil, Troy often adds interesting details about the natural history behind the photo.  As Troy explains, photography is “more a means than an end. Looking over the photographs afterwards and researching the things I’ve found is even more rewarding.”  Those with a lot of confidence in their insect identification skills may wish to try their hand at Troy’s occasional identification challenges (prepare to be humbled!).

Up Close With Nature

© Kurt (a.k.a. orionmystery)

Up Close with Nature by Kurt (a.k.a. orionmystery) is one of my favorite insect macrophotography blogs.  Kurt lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, giving him access to an insect fauna that is extraordinary in both its diversity and beauty.  Kurt uses the stunning insects of this rich fauna to share with readers his excellent tips and techniques for insect macrophotography.  His latest post features one of the best explanations I have seen on the use of Flash Exposure Compensation in Macro Photography, and previous posts have given me some great ideas on diffusers and the use of backgrounds to optimize flash lighting.  If you’re interested in the science of insect macrophotography, you will enjoy this blog.

Living With Insects

© Jonathan Neal

Living With Insects is the new blog by Jonathan Neal, Associate Professor of Entomology at Purdue University and author of the textbook, Living With Insects (2010).  Jonathan is interested in exploring the intersections of people and insects, and though he just began blogging a month ago he has already covered such topics as the evolution of insect flight, the consequences of virus infection in domestic cricket colonies, insects and burial practices, raising monarchs, insect cuticle, and the importance of insect museums.  It’s a daily dose of erudition!

6legs2many

© Alison Bockoven

6legs2many is written by Alison Bockoven, an entomology graduate student at Texas A&M University.  While her research focuses on genetic variation in the foraging behavior of the red imported fire ant, Alison is also having fun discovering the broader field of entomology.  Her enthusiasm is palpable as she features some of the insects that she has encountered and the techniques used for their collection and curation.  Her latest post covers the Embioptera, or webspinners – a group that I, after nearly three decades as a practicing entomologist, still have not encountered.  By the way, the title of the blog is derived from this humorous quip by Joseph W. Krutch:

Two-legged creatures we are supposed to love as we love ourselves.  The four-legged, also, can come to seem pretty important.  But six legs are too many from the human standpoint.

Field Notes

© Bryan D. Hughes

Although I am a devout entomologist, I do enjoy a good herp blog, and Field Notes by Bryan D. Hughes is one of the best herp blogs that I’ve seen.  Focusing on Arizona’s venomous snakes, Bryan provides stunning photographs of these striking animals (heh heh… get it?) and other assorted reptiles and amphibians from that unique fauna.  As Bryan explains, “I like spending my Saturday nights in hot cars on dirt roads in the middle of nowhere, being attacked from all sides by mosquitoes while searching for deadly snakes.”  His dedication to these oft-misunderstood animals is clear by his role as a volunteer for snake relocation calls and his hope that his website will help local homeowners to become interested in native wildlife rather than killing it.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Rearing the Prairie Tiger Beetle (Cicindela obsoleta vulturina)

A Prairie Tiger Beetle larva peers up from its burrow in rocky soil of a dolomite glade in the White River Hills of southwestern Missouri. The head of this 3rd-instar larvae is about the size of a pencil eraser.

I had so looked forward to the long Memorial Day weekend collecting trip – time of season and the weather were perfect, and it had been several years since I’d made a late spring swing through the woodlands, glades, and prairies of western Missouri. But after two fruitless days of searching for nearly non-existent beetles at Ha Ha Tonka State Park, Lichen Glade Natural Area, and Penn-Sylvania Prairie, I was faced with a choice: return home disappointed or try something completely different in an attempt to salvage the weekend.  I chose the latter.

A 3rd-instar Prairie Tiger Beetle larva extracted from its burrow. Total length is ~30mm.

What could be more different than the White River Hills of southwestern Missouri?  The deeply dissected dolomite bedrocks supporting xeric, calcareous glades, dry woodlands and riparian watercourses couldn’t be more different than the gentle, acidic sandstone terrain of those more northerly locations.  Its hilltop glades (“balds”) are the most extensive such system in Missouri, and I’ve already featured several charismatic insects from my travels last summer to this part of Missouri, including Megaphasma denticrus (North America’s longest insect), Microstylus morosum (North America’s largest robber fly), and Plinthocoelium suaveolens (North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetle).  One insect that I also wanted to feature from that area but that eluded me during last fall’s cold and wet collecting trip is the Prairie Tiger Beetle – Cicindela obsoleta vulturina.  This impressive species is highly localized in Missouri, occurring no further north and east than the White River Hills.  Moreover, the populations in this part of the state and across the border in Arkansas are highly disjunct from the species’ main population in the southern Great Plains.  Like a number of other plants and animals, the Missouri/Arkansas disjunct may represent a relict from the hypsithermal maximum of several thousand years ago, finding refuge in these rocky hills after cooling temperatures and increasing moisture caused the grasslands of today’s west to retreat from their former eastern extent.

The ''business end'' - four eyes and two enormous mandibles. The metallic purple pronotum is covered with soil.

Despite its restricted occurrence in Missouri, the species is apparently secure and occurs commonly on the many dolomite glades that are found in the area. I have records from a number of localities in the White River Hills, but the best populations I’ve seen occur at Blackjack Knob in Taney County.  Of course, I would have absolutely no chance of seeing the adults during this Memorial Day weekend – adults don’t come out until late summer rains trigger emergence in late August and early September.  It was not, however, the adults that I was after, for I had seen larvae of what I believed must be this species in their burrows during one of my visits to this location last summer.  Although I have collected several other species of tiger beetles in the area, I reasoned these larvae must represent C. obsoleta vulturina due to their rather large size (this species is one of the largest in the genus in North America) and because they lacked the white bordering of the pronotum typical of species in the genus Tetracha – the only other genus occurring in Missouri with species as large as this.  I had tried to extract some of the larvae for an attempt at rearing, but neither of the two techniques I tried (“fishing” and “jabbing”) had worked.  Fishing involves inserting a thin grass stem into the burrow and yanking out the larva when it bites the stem; however, I found the burrows of this species to angle and turn due to the rocky soil rather than go straight down for a clear shot.  Jabbing involves placing the tip of a knife at a 45° angle about 1″ from the edge of an active burrow, waiting for the larva to return to the top of the burrow, and jabbing the knife into the soil to block the larva’s retreat – a quick flip of the knife exposes the larvae, but in this case jabbing did not work because I always ended up hitting a rock and missing the larva before it ducked back down in the burrow.

Hooks on the abdominal hump of a 3rd-instar Prairie Tiger Beetle larva prevent it from being pulled out of its burrow by struggling prey.

I returned to the site where I had seen larval burrows last year and once again found them.  I tried fishing a few, though I knew this would be futile, then jabbing – again with no success, and then had an idea.  I went to the truck and retrieved a small trowel that I use to dig soil for filling rearing containers, then found an active burrow (larva sitting at the top, though dropping upon my approach) and got in position using the trowel as I would the knife.  I held the trowel firmly with both hands and placed my body behind it so I could use all my weight to force the trowel into the soil and past the rocks when the larva returned to the top of the burrow – worked like a charm!  After taking photographs of the first larva that I successfully extracted, I set to the business of collecting nearly a dozen more over the next couple of hours.  I then filled several containers with soil (using rocks in the larger one to create “compartments” to keep the larvae separated), poked “starter burrows” in the soil, and one at a time placed the extracted larvae in the burrows and sealed them in by pushing/sliding my finger over the hole.  I’ve found this is necessary to prevent the larvae from crawling right back out and digging a new burrow somewhere else – not a problem if there is only one larva in the container (although I prefer they use the starter burrows that I place at the edge of the container so that I can see them in their burrows to help keep track of what they are doing); however, in containers with more than one larva they will often encounter each other and fight, resulting in some mortality.  Larvae sealed in starter burrows eventually dig it open again but generally continue excavating it for their new burrow.  One larva was not placed in a rearing container – it was kept in a vial for the trip home, where it was dispatched and preserved in alcohol as a larval voucher specimen.

This male adult Prairie Tiger Beetle (emerged 10 weeks after collecting the larva) shows the dark olive-green coloration and semi-complete markings typical of the MO/AR disjunct population.

After returning to St. Louis, I placed the rearing containers in a growth chamber and monitored larval activity 2-3 times per week.  Whenever a burrow was opened, I would place a fall armyworm, corn earworm, or tobacco hornworm larva in the burrow and seal it shut.  Some burrows would be re-opened almost immediately and, thus, fed again, while others stayed sealed for longer periods of time.  Tap water was added to the container whenever the soil surface became quite dry – generally once per week, and by late July nearly all of the burrows were sealed and inactive. If these larvae did, indeed, represent C. obsoleta vulturina, then this would be the time they would be pupating.  On August 15 I had my answer, when I checked the containers to find the above male had emerged, and the next day two more adults emerged as well (including the female shown below).

This female adult Prairie Tiger Beetle emerged the same day as the male and shows slightly brighter green coloration.

I put the emerged adults together in the largest rearing container, and within minutes the male and one of the females were coupled. I’ve kept them fed with small caterpillars and rootworm larvae, and numerous oviposition holes were eventually observed on the surface of the soil in the container. In a few weeks, I’ll place this container in a cold incubator for the winter and then watch next spring to see if larvae hatch and begin forming burrows. If so, it will be a chance to see if I can rear the species completely from egg to adult and preserve examples of the younger larval instars.

Photo Details: Canon 50D (ISO 100, 1/250 sec) w/ Canon MT-24EX flash w/ Sto-Fen + GFPuffer diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask).
Photos 1-2, 5-6: 100mm macro lens (f/14-f/16).
Photos 3-4: 65mm MP-E 1-5X macro lens (f/14).

Edit 9/10/10, 6:30 pm: I checked the terrarium today and discovered 24 brand new 1st-instar larval burrows dotting the soil surface.  They are quite large already, almost as big as 3rd-instar burrows of the diminutive Cylindera celeripes.  I guess I’m surprised to see larvae hatching already, as I expected they would overwinter as eggs and hatch in the spring.  Now that I think about it, however, hatching in the fall makes sense, as this gives them an opportunity to feed some before winter sets in and also allows them to burrow for more protection from freezing temperatures.  I’ve dumped a bunch of 2nd-3rd instar Lygus nymphs into the terrarium for their first meal.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

North America’s largest centipede

As I prowled the remote mixed-grass prairie of northwestern Oklahoma in the middle of the night, an enormous, serpentine figure emerged frenetically from a clump of grass and clambered up the banks of the draw I was exploring.  Although I was still hoping for my first glimpse of the Great Plains giant tiger beetle, I was keeping a watchful eye out for anything that moved within the illuminated tunnel of my headlamp due to the potential for encountering prairie rattlesnakes (perhaps the most aggressive of North America’s species).  This was clearly no snake, but at up to 8″, Scolopendra heros (giant desert centipede) easily matches some smaller snakes in length.  Also called the giant Sonoran centipede and the giant North American centipede, it is North America’s largest representative of this class of arthropods (although consider its South American relative, S. gigantea – the Peruvian or Amazonian giant centipede, whose lengths of up to 12″ make it the largest centipede in the world).

Although I had never before seen this species alive, I recognized it instantly for what it was.  Many years ago I was scouting the extreme southwest corner of Missouri for stands of soapberry (Sapindus saponaria), a small tree that just sneaks inside Missouri at the northeasternmost limit of its distribution, in hopes of finding dead branches that might be infested with jewel beetles normally found in Texas.  I had heard that these centipedes also reach their northeastern extent in southwestern Missouri, and just a few miles from the Arkansas and Oklahoma borders I found a road-killed specimen.  I stood there dejected looking at it – too flattened to even try to salvage for the record.

Centipedes, of course, comprise the class Chilopoda, which is divided into four orders.  The giant centipedes (21 species native to North America) are placed in the order Scolopendromorpha, distinguished by having 21 or 23 pairs of legs and (usually) four small, individual ocelli on each side of the head (best seen in bottom photo).  The three other orders of centipedes either lack eyes (Geophilomorpha) or possess compound eyes (Scutigeromorpha and Lithobiomorpha).  These latter two orders also have only 15 pairs of legs (shouldn’t they thus be called “quindecipedes”?).  Among the scolopendromorphs, S. heros is easily distinguished by its very large size and distinctive coloration.  This coloration varies greatly across its range, resulting in the designation of three (likely taxonomically meaningless) subspecies.  This individual would be considered S. h. castaneiceps (red-headed centipede) due to its black trunk with the head and first few trunk segments red and the legs yellow.  As we have noted before, such striking coloration of black and yellow or red nearly always indicates an aposematic or warning function for a species possessing effective antipredatory capabilities – in this case a toxic and very painful bite.

The individual in these photographs is not the first one I saw that night, but the second.  I had no container on hand to hold the first one and not even any forceps with which to handle it – I had to watch in frustration as it clambered up the side of the draw and disappear into the darkness of the night.  Only after I returned to the truck to retrieve a small, plastic terrarium (to fill with dirt for the giant tiger beetles that I now possessed) did I luck into seeing a second individual, which I coaxed carefully into the container.  It almost escaped me yet again – I left the container on the kitchen table when I returned home, only to find the container knocked onto the floor the next morning and the lid askew.  I figured the centipede was long gone and hoped that whichever of our three cats that knocked the container off the table didn’t experience its painful bite.  That evening, I noticed all three cats sitting in a semi-circle, staring at a paper shredder kept up against the wall in the kitchen.  I knew immediately what had so captured their interest and peeked behind the shredder to see the centipede pressed up against the wall. The centipede had lost one of its terminal legs but seemed otherwise none the worse for wear – its terrarium now sits safely in my cat-free office, and every few days it enjoys a nice, fat Manduca larva for lunch.

There are a number of online “fact sheets” on this species, mostly regarding care in captivity for this uncommon but desirable species.  I highly recommend this one by Jeffrey K. Barnes of the University of Arkansas for its comprehensiveness and science-focus.

Photo Details: Canon 50D (ISO 100, 1/250 sec) w/ Canon MT-24EX flash in white box.
Photos 1-2: Canon 100mm macro lens (f22), indirect flash.
Photo 3: Canon MP-E 65mm 1-5X macro lens (f/13), direct flash w/ Sto-Fen + GFPuffer diffusers.
Post-processing: levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010