Defenders Magazine

On the Ground: Untangling Ribbon Snakes

by Madeline Bodin

© Rolf Nussbaumer/NPL/Minden Pictures

Twenty pairs of feet tromp across a small island in a large pond in northwestern Vermont. Twigs snap and dried leaves crunch on this September day. Low-slung branches slap across pant legs. "Water snake," murmurs Julian Slesar, not quite seven years old, when he spots the first snake on the island that day. His blue eyes grow round. Herpetologist Jim Andrews sounds a whistle to bring the group, made up mostly of adults, together to examine Julian's find.

Andrews, director of the Vermont Reptile and Amphibian Atlas, a project of the nonprofit group Vermont Family Forests, is leading volunteers recruited by Defenders of Wildlife—part of its nationwide Wildlife Volunteer Corps program—in search of the northern-most population of eastern ribbon snakes in New England.

Although ribbon snakes are common in the southeastern United States, they are rare in Vermont. "Here they are an edge-of-range species," says Andrews. "They also seem to have been fragmented into little populations that are not connected." These scattered populations are becoming cut off from each other by development, roads and even modern hay-mowing equipment, which moves so fast that snakes can't escape. Isolated populations become more vulnerable to even natural threats. Cut off from one another, they cannot breed to replenish their numbers, and the snake's range is further whittled away.

In Vermont, one way to help ribbon snakes is to expose rocky ledges to more sun by trimming tree branches and cutting brushy areas so they don't grow up into forests, Andrews says. But, he adds, "We can't protect them if we don't know where they are."

At Shelburne Pond, just south of Burlington, Vermont's largest city, ribbon snakes were last documented 30 years ago. But Andrews hopes there may still be some in the area—and that it's just a matter of someone looking for them. That's harder than it sounds. Ribbon snakes, which are dark with light-colored stripes running down their bodies, look almost identical to garter snakes—common throughout North America. The only difference is that ribbon snakes are thinner and their stripes are more clearly defined. In fact, some experts think that there may be more ribbon snakes in Vermont, but that they have been mistaken for garter snakes. Andrews disagrees.

"I think this is a genuinely rare snake," he says. He believes they should be protected as a threatened species in the state. "If we don't find the species at Shelburne Pond," Andrews says, "then it becomes a higher priority to protect it in the places where it is found."

Ribbon snakes are semi-aquatic and love to bask on the rocks and logs at the edge of ponds. To reach the island, the volunteer group has to become semi-aquatic, too, paddling a small fleet of canoes and kayaks along the ledge-rimmed shoreline toward the island as swirls of golden pollen sparkle in their wakes. It is a leisurely paddle, with stops along the way to examine snakes plucked out of bushes on shore by agile boaters and one caught as it swims across the pond. Within 40 minutes the group is hauling its boats up among the island's cedar trees.

On the island, Andrews urges the group to "walk along like a comb," forming a human dragnet to spot any ribbon snakes. "Feet are helpful," Andrews explains, especially in Vermont where venomous snakes are rare. Lots of feet are even more helpful. Snakes have excellent camouflage and are difficult to see unless they are moving, which they will do when a pair of human feet approaches.

He is glad to have three children in the group—their random running around fits his chaos theory of locating snakes. Two of the children are also members of what Andrews calls, "one of the premier snaking families in Vermont." Dad Chris Slesar, whose day job is as an environmental specialist with the Vermont Agency of Transportation, recently found the record-holding longest garter snake in Vermont, which measured 35 inches.

The snake his son Julian spots is the fifth northern water snake observed that day. Andrews takes it as a good sign. Like the ribbon snake, this snake is common in the southeastern United States, is fond of water and is found in only a few spots in Vermont. The two snakes are often found in the same habitat.

Julian's sister Clara, 11, catches a water snake, a garter snake, some salamanders and a spring peeper, a small frog best known for its springtime trills. The other child in the group, Sabian York, 6, has quick hands that catch everything he sees, including tiny grasshoppers.

By the time the outing is over, the group has counted eight water snakes in total, four garter snakes and three snakes that were probably garters but didn't stick around long enough for a firm identification, plus a generous sampling of Vermont's frog species. All the reptiles and amphibians found during the survey, from peepers to snakes, will be included in the Vermont Reptile and Amphibian Atlas. Data from the atlas are used both by the Vermont Fish and Wildlife Department and the advisory group that recommends species for listing as threatened or endangered in the state.

Even though no ribbon snakes are found this day, Andrews considers the search a success. The habitat at Shelburne Pond still looks right for ribbon snakes. And this army of volunteers—which includes Kathy McNames, Sabian York's mother—plans to keep on the lookout for them.

McNames, who kayaks on the pond often, is happy she found a way to help Defenders just a few miles from her home. As she packs up her truck to leave, she promises Andrews that she and Sabian will be back at the pond another day to continue the search. "Kayaking for a purpose," she says.

Learn more about Defenders' Wildlife Volunteer Corps and sign up to get e-mails about upcoming projects in your region.