MHS Newsletter Volume 18 Number 4
The Herpin' Lifestyle By Greg K vanbek
Frog Season Starts In most areas of Minnesota, the first frog call of the season that you are likely to hear will be that of the western chorus frog, Pseudacris triseriata. Chorus frogs usually begin calling around the last week of March or the first week of April. They prefer smaller bodies of water, often breeding in road ditches. Their call is sort of a rapid clicking sound. This is undoubtedly the most commonly heard Minnesota frog, which I guess would also make it the most abundant. Enjoy them now, because once their breeding season is over, they become very difficult to find.
Another early breeder in the northern leopard frog, Rana pipiens. They often breed in the same waters as the chorus frog, but seem to avoid the srnaIIest ponds. While chorus frogs usually conceal themselves in or around vegetation while calling, the leopard frog is much more bold. The males can often be seen floating on the surface of the water, in a sexually confident manner, with their legs outstretched, right in the open. Their call sounds kind of like a balloon stretching as it is blown up. In fact, if you were to make a balloon out of stretchy frog skin, it would sound identical to a leopard frog call. Most non-herp people, as far as I can tell, refer to all of the early frogs as spring peepers. Actually some of them are. The spring peeper, Pseudacris crndfer, usually begins breeding shortly after the chorus frogs and leopard frogs. Their shrill peeping whistle can be heard throughout eastern
Minnesota in wooded areas and willow swamps. (Everyone has seen the picture of a spring peeper calling from a pussy willow.) Spring peepers can be difficult to locate, as they are skilled at concealing themselves within clumps of grass. If you go out looking for them- you will find that their call, which is earsplitting, is strangely difficult to pinpoint. I've even had difficulty in locating individuals that were calling on branches, in the open, right in front of me. Pretty weird. The wood frog, Rana sylvatica, is one of my favorites. They bred early, in the Jesus water of wooded ponds and willow swamps. My herpin' buddies Jeff LeClere and Dan Berquist were somewhat unfamiliar with Jesus water at one time. A couple of seasons ago, the three of us spent an early spring day catching and photographing herps at various spots in western Minnesota. At the time, I did a frog survey route north of Alexandria, and we all decided that running the frog route would be a good way to end the day. I then proposed that the three of us reveal our voyeuristic natures, go out into the Jesus water and watch wood frogs breed. Jeff and Dan asked what I meant by Jesus water, I explained that, despite the name, it had no religious meaning. Jesus water is simply water that is so cold that when you walk into it, you gasp "Oh Jesus!". Maybe it is somewhat spiritual. Anyway, they doubted me, which is somewhat normal. So after running the frog route, we returned to a large willow swamp where we had heard the
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clacking of wood frogs earlier in the evening We threw on our sixdollar tennies, gathered up camera gear and flashlights, and struck out across the cornfield. As we neared the willows, the calling frogs became louder. We quletly made our way through the willows to an open patch of water that was alive with wood frogs. One by one, we entered the icy water. I have to admit, both Dan and Jeff did a very good job at not saying "Oh Jesus!" right away. Obviously they had to prove me wrong. But they did both quletly and enthusiastically say /JGeez!" or "Cheez!" or something. That water was beyond cold. All we felt was a strange burning sensation on our numb feet and legs. The water temperature had to have been well below freezing. The worst part was, the frogs had qult calling. As we stood there quletly, in the darkness, within a few feet of each other, waiting for the frogs to begin calling again, a single thought gelled in our collective minds. Each of us wanted to break away and run, screaming, from the swamp. But none of us wanted to be the first to weaken. So we stood there, in the icy water, listening to each other breathe, for what seemed like many hours, waiting for the wood frogs to continue calling. We eventually began looking around with our flashlights, and found several individuals and amplexing (which means dom it) pairs hiding under the water. Thus accomplishing what we set out to do, we qulckly left the swamp. Our red feet were so numb that we could hardly walk back to the car. It will just bulld up tolerance for the next time.
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