Write things. Estivate. Acclimate. Repeat.
Write things. Estivate. Acclimate. Repeat.
The arrow points to where I grew up. That salamander, along with two other species, vexed me. Map filched from Stebbins (1966).
The distribution of Aneides especially kept me up at night. The realization that their distribution (in Appalachia and the Pacific Northwest) is as old as the split of Western Laurasia during the Jurassic, well over 150 million years ago, was mind blowing, and the center of diversity in my very own backyard, among forest elements sauropod dinosaurs used to romp through.
They weren't in Trinidad, except for Aneides ferreus. Where were the other two then recognized coastal species and Plethodon elongatus whose range map showed them living right in my area, with seemingly boundless forest as far as the eye could see?
October 20, 2026.
I blame a book, A Field Guide to Western Reptiles and Amphibians, by Robert C. Stebbins, 1966. The book features an Ensatina eschscholtzii klauberi on the cover. Dr. Stebbins made his name in the 1940s when he described the salamander complex Ensatina eschscholtzii as a ring species. Here is a link to Dr. Stebbins' work on Ensatina:
https://evolution.berkeley.edu/a-closer-look-at-a-classic-ring-species/discovering-a-ring-species/
The species occurs along the California Coast Range, from south into Baja California Norte', north all the way into British Columbia, and in California crosses the coast range at the Lassen divide and then southward along the entirety of the Sierra Nevada, towards the Tehachapi Mountains, which bridges to the coast range. There are no significant morphotype breaks; only gradations where introgressive hybridization occurs in a neat circle. That took a huge amount of work to quantify and document, and in the 1940s! His talent and artistry were foundational to capturing their detailed coloration and morphological variation. Science requires the right talents. Ensatina eschescholtzii klauberi is perhaps the most distinctive of its immediate kin, and it has been a source of scientific intrigue as to whether it is deserving of specific recognition.
My journey begins within Dr. Stebbins' guide from the Maps section after page 224, specifically the distribution maps of Plethodon elongatus (13), and the Aneides species. I happened to live smack in the spot where three of the coastal species were expected but whose ranges were on the edge. Aneides ferreus was in my back yard. Why weren't the other two Aneides and Plethodon in my stomping ground? That question and a host of others emerged from just studying those very low resolution maps and a great deal of time outside turning rocks and logs, and an equal amount of time putting them back. Always put them back.
I was fortunate to have A. ferreus (now A. vagrans) in my own stomping ground. Beautiful animal, and as subsequent study by others has shown, an amazingly well adapted animal to the habitat it dwells in, far beyond the wildest imagination and truly only something one can learn through hardship. Their gliding behavior was first noted by tree-sitters protecting old growth redwood trees.
All organisms great and small have a niche'. Some have a niche' that allows them to be invasive and cosmopolitan, such as the garden snail Cornu aspersum and the decollate snail Rumina decollata. Some have a niche' that requires an actual structured spatial microhabitat derived from rocky substrate. Where I grew up, and had no ability to travel further than 10 miles north to south, there were barely any rocks. There were no rocks to look at outside of an odd volcanic stack that I could not get to or along the coastline shrouded by stinging nettles, salmonberry, and sitka spruce ripped by high wind and salt spray. I didn't know anything about rocks. But my friend, Rolf Aalto and his father, Dr. Kenneth Aalto, did. Rolf also has a PhD, in geology, as did his grandfather and now his son. It's a dynasty. Professor of Mud.
Dr. Aalto studied the Franciscan formation, a vast oceanic basalt layer mixed with micro-continent fragments and terranes that managed to survive being scraped over the subduction zone of the Pacific plate and adhere, then be uplifted, to form the Klamath Mountains of Northern California. The Klamath Mountains are composed of a vastly complex melange of geochemically dissimilar terranes. The mountains are 5 million years old, and at the head of it sits Mt. Shasta, a fairly gentle stratovolcano. A lot has happenned in that time. I was fortunate that when I was older he took me along on field excursions, river rafting, and hikes into the Trinity Alps and elsewhere where there were lots of interesting rocks and geomorphology. The Mendocino triple junction lies just 50 miles as the crow flies to the southwest from Trinidad. There are a lot of rocks, but not where I stood most of my time as a youngling. I grew up on sandy Klamath River deposits that had been uplifted a scant 100,000 years ago and had only been weakly incised by stream flow. The answer is always in the rocks, and it was my privilege to be in Dr. Kenneth Aalto's orbit.
The reason the salamanders that I searched for were not there, was because of habitat. They require porous soil conditions and mixed rocky substrate with outcroppings, which provides for the microhabitat: talus. There was no talus in Trinidad, near my back yard, or in Patrick's Point State Park across the street, nor along the ocean. Anything rocky, such as the coastline and seastacks, as well as the entire forest floor, was welded together by coniferous forest leaf litter and moss, and then beneath that was sand and muck. If you, like me, explored the forest floor, you will find the entirety of northern boreal forest choked in moss, and a near absence of certain organisms, instead restricted to special locations identifiable by active geomorphology.
Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis) are the devil. Their needles are sharp, which discourages searching through it by hand. They are also very fine and moss will emerge from them almost immediately when they hit the ground. When the moss sprouts, the needles and moss swell together and all access to the subsurface is cut off except when a small mammal burrows through, a tree is toppled, or a branch hits the ground. No access to interstitial space, no salamanders. If you are a tasty type of salamander, one that cannot defend itself or exude enough protective mucus, or saturated with tarichatoxin, then using mammal burrows is not an option. Talus provides for a nice, narrow, interstitial habitat that a morphologically squat salamander can get into and dive deep underground when surface conditions become hot and dry, or a shrew is on the chase.
Aneides lugubris are found in woody debris just as do A. vagrans and A. ferreus. Then why aren't they in Trinidad? That isn't the right question to ask. Were they there... and then back and forth north to south countless times over the eons as climate fluctuated, because they are adapted biochemically to warmer microhabitat? They are most abundant in oak woodlands. A. vagrans and A. ferreus are also found among oak, but they are most commonly found in strictly coniferous forest, from sea-level to sub-alpine. There was a common ancestor involved and due to metapopulation dynamics, locally differentiated and gene flow bounced their newly specialized genes until they achieved a roughly uniform and recognizeable morphotype. This process is ongoing. Evolution does not simply stop. Environmental conditions occur on a gradient, the climate changes, landscapes change, habitat is gained and lost. Not always in a smooth enough fashion for gene flow to keep up. The organism survives by being pre-apted and then adjustment through adaptation occurs. If the environment is stable over long geological periods, specialization occurs, and there-in carries a risk of extinction because you can't just cross from one peak to another when you've successfully climbed to the top of Mt. Improbable... unless something carries you. Thank you to Dr. Charles Dawkins for this remarkable intellectual leap.
In here I have given a brief overview of how a multi-disciplinary view can inform ones understanding through deep time. I've implied predictions about the causes of organismal distribution, the nature of microhabitat, and its foundational geomorphic basis. Evolution occurs upon this stage. Can we leverage this for other predictions?
If memory serves, the second edition of Dr. Stebbins field guide corrected the distribution of Aneides flavipunctatus and Plethodon elongatus... because they were hand-drawn by Dr. Stebbins himself by integrating living memory, communication, and museum records.
After the 3rd edition, all the maps are extractions from databases and individuals with little to no field experience. They show the positive detections and interpolate that everything between is occupied. It is a meaningless blob that misrepresents ground truth based on pinpoints in a database alone.
The implementation of Darwin Core as lead by gbif.org and replicated to other authoritative conservation biology systems does not take into account the full scientific breadth of knowledge to document species distributions. There is no effort to record negative detection data. Thus, maps derived from the data sources is inherently flawed, and is witlessly regurgitated and presented as fact. A system declaring itself authoritative and a new generation of computer savvy biologists dismissive of anything not in a data simple format is a serious matter. The magic word that applies is literally, fuzzy. It's good enough, for them.