Journey to 200: No. 135 Plethodon jacksoni & No. 136 Plethodon dixi

The melancholic draw of solitude from the deep wilderness is a powerful thing. Often quiet contemplation in nature is the only therapy I need and the success of a target species found using your own self-reliance is fulfilling like little else. However, like many things in life, one of the best parts about this search for salamanders is the people you meet along the way. As you could imagine I’ve met quite the cast of characters along my pursuit of salamanders. Everyone from great mentors and incredible naturalists, to wannabe Steve Irwins that play themselves the fool and even neo-Nazis. There is one gaggle of nerds however that have become my knights of the round table, if you will.

The Ethical Palz we call ourselves are around a dozen or so nerds scattered across the US. We each have our own backgrounds, strengths, and career paths but we all share a common love of the scientific pursuit of herps. When other friends lost touch or became too busy for reunions, I could always count on the Palz to quite literally fly across the country to meet me. There was a time though when the group was small, and our trips where nothing more than words typed on a shared google doc. In November of 2020 we changed that.

At the time I was closing in on a salamander milestone, every species in the genus Plethodon east of the Mississippi. While it might sound like a very specific superlative, being the second most diverse salamander genus in the world, and with most of that diversity east of the Mississippi, it felt triumphant. At least it would once I found the last two.

These two species were animals once thought to be distinct, had been sunk into a wide-ranging species and only through modern genomic techniques have been resurrected like Lazarus as the Blacksburg Salamander (Plethodon jacksoni) and the Dixie Caverns Salamander (Plethodon dixi). They were sister to each other and had fairly small ranges in western Virginia, an area that I had seldom herped before. In a sense, they made the perfect targets for the Palz first group foray.

The Valley and Ridge physiographic region of Virginia has become one of my favorite sections of the Appalachians with great Plethodontid diversity and great views.

As an undergraduate student at UGA, the drive up to Virginia was a long one, not something I could escape on a weekend for. However, the days off before Thanksgiving made for a timeline that we knew had to be capitalized on. And so, the idea of a Plethsgiving was born with Max Seldes and I arriving from the south and Justin Lee and Asha Miller-Murthy from the north.

Max and I arrived the night before in the dark along the New River fueled on hot chocolate from McDonald’s. We had spent that evening finding dusky salamanders and after a brief search of Mudpuppies along the banks of the frigid river crawled in our tents to rest for the next day. As I write this five years later the details are beginning to fade but I will certainly never forget how cold that night felt.

With a new day dawning we rendezvoused with our remaining compatriots plus Aidan McCarthy who would be our guide for the day. Aidan being a Virginia native, conducted research on these two salamanders and knew the Plethodon better than any of us. Greetings and hugs were shared amongst close friends. This was my first time ever meeting Justin in person, and he remains one of the smartest people I am fortunate to know. Then wasting no time, we turned from our cars and set forth on foot to find these elusive animals in a remote… neighborhood. My journeys have taken me to spectacular places on the very edge of wilderness, but more often than not they don’t.

Walking past the mansions, we wound our way down to some small rock faces emerging from the ground. Aidan explained to us how he often finds Plethodon jacksoni here around these outcrops and in the limestone crevices within them. In fact, this place is so well known for them it was the type locality when this species was described. It didn’t disappoint either. Within minutes someone in our party had found the first one! An averaged sized dark colored salamander with flecks of gold across its back. While not striking initially, the flash from our cameras brought out beautiful metallic frosting across the back of this species. Less than an hour later and everyone had managed to find their own. More than satisfied we returned to our cars with one Plethodon down and one to go.

A Blacksburg Salamander (Plethodon jacksoni) from right outside Blacksburg. This species currently ranges as far south as North Carolina, however further taxonomic scrutiny is needed.

A short drive following Aidan led us to a pull off in national forest property, complete with a decaying deer and hypodermic needles. Much more my speed than a wealthy neighborhood. Following an unmarked path, he led us up to a rocky cove where he had seen Plethodon dixi before. Here remained my last Plethodon east of the Mississippi. Now, I wish I could say it was a dramatic build up or a very cathartic moment, but truth be told Max flipped one within 10 minutes of looking. BOOM! Done! Mission completed and after a short photo session we bid farewell to Aidan and were on our way.

A Dixie Cavern's Salamander (Plethodon dixi) from the location Aidan took us. As the name suggests this species was originally thought to only occur in one cave near Roanoke.

What followed I now realize, was the true highlight of the day. We went to Cookout and at a time still effected by Covid-19 ate our lunch in a corner of the parking lot. Justin, being from the north had never had cookout and always wanted to try it. The hushpuppies did not disappoint. Here we recollected about the day, spoke on future trips, and overall bonded as four complete fucking nerds. It is a meal and a moment that while may seem mundane, I will never forget.

We spent the rest of the day goofing off, not really finding anything other than Justin’s lifer Kanawha Black-bellied Salamander (Desmognathus kanawha), a few other common species, and an old rusted pick-axe which I think still might be in Max’s car… As the sun set, we drove to a primitive campsite that Asha and I had stayed at before. Here, as the cold November chill set in we built a fire.

An absolutely gorgeous Kanawha Black-bellied Salamander (Desmognathus kanawha) from along the New River. This species group is one of my favorites and I was more than happy to catch Justin his lifer.

That day in Virginia was just the beginning for our rag-tag group. We’ve grown in size and traveled cross country more times that I can count. They are without a doubt my best and closest friends, and for an only child like myself, the closest things I’ll ever have to siblings. What we spent talking about by that fire late into the night didn’t matter. Honestly, neither did the salamanders we saw that day either. What mattered was that these fellow humans decided out of anything they could possibly be on this big, beautiful planet were to be my friends. No words will ever be able to express how fortunate I am to have found them. In short, I’m not sure I’d be here without them, but then again life would not be worth living without them and for that, I am forever grateful.