Rana catesbeiana; The American Bullfrog

Identification: This is the most massive frog around. It can get to be about 8 inches long and weigh over a pound. The females are larger than males. The coloration can vary from all green, to green with brown, to blotchy, to mostly brownish with some green etc. The bullfrog primarily frequents ponds. He's not too picky, and almost any little patch of water will do. Even if it's a nasty drainage ditch, you're likely to find a few of his ilk sitting about. At night you can listen for his deep and very loud call. To me it sounds sort of like "rerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp".

The Bullfrog; a Frog I Once Ate

I've long enjoyed the idyllic pursuits of fishing and crabbing. I suppose at heart I'm a sort of quaint waterfolk. Left to my own devices I might end up spending days at a time holding a cane pole, wearing rubber boots, and perhaps smoking a corncob pipe beside a lazy stream. Very rarely have I engaged in the active pursuit of hunting animals that spend part of their day on land. Only twice have i sought semiaquatic quarry. Once I attempted to hunt a Peking duck, but ended up befriending him and forming a lasting relationship. My second hunting excursion was more successfull, and this was for none other than the bullfrog.

During the heady days of my early twenties, I received a suggestion from the woman who would later become my wife that we catch bullfrogs and eat their legs. Needless to say, I was eager to impress this co-ed. We were not yet dating, and I considered this an ideal opportunity to establish myself as a competent provider.

We quickly secured some frogging spears from a neighbor and headed to a nearby pond. It was after dark, and the pond featured an abundance of bullfrogs. It soon became clear that spearing frogs is incredibly easy. Within minutes we had gathered a substantial ranid for each member of our party. Now it was time to cook them.

I'm a fairly adventurous eater. True, I've never had that Ethiopian dish where a quail is cooked inside a rabbit inside a chicken inside a goat inside a pig inside a camel, or however the order goes. Nevertheless, I'll try almost anything once. Frog legs turned out to be a great disappointment; perhaps not as great as that experienced by the Millerites in 1844, but still a notable failure to meet expectations. Don't listen when people say it tastes like chicken. That's only half true. It tastes like chicken and crab mixed together. And not in a fun chicken chesapeake novelty way. No, this is more like a male crab one day dallied with a hen, who dutifully sat on her eggs until hatching a half crab half chicken abomination. This unnatural heir retains some elements of his invertebrate father, and some of his avian mother, yet tastes nowhere near as good as either. It's probably even worse than alligator tail, which tastes like a repulsive blend of chicken and fish, no matter how much you cover it with crispy breading.

Bullfrogs; a Frog that Violates Expectations

While my culinary adventures may seem trivial or even tedious to some, they provide a nice segue into my next theme. Just as one expects a traditional french dish such as frog legs to be delicious, only to find it tastes like unfortunate crab-chicken hybrid, one who studies the bullfrog will often be astounded by how he defies conventional wisdom.

First of all, the bullfrog has teeth. I always thought of amphibians as gummy mouthed sorts with little need for teeth. Then again, maybe I'm the only one who finds this unexpected. The more I contemplate a soft jawed salamander who's bite feels like a gentle massage, the sillier my early assumptions seem. So maybe you expected teeth. But the bullfrog has them on the roof of his mouth. That's unusual isn't it?

Secondly, the bullfrogs diet is much more diverse than I would have thought. Perhaps I am a bit bigotted towards frogs, as I never thought to question the lilypad sitting, using the tongue to catch flies stereotype. The bullfrog may rest on the odd lily pad, but he's an aggressive sort who ambushes almost anything. He'll eat fish, other frogs, even mice if they get too close.

Finally, the bullfrog surprises me by taking his sweet time turning from a tadpole into a mature frog. When I was little, I lived in England, and went to the english eqivalent of kindergarten, called "infants one." In my infants one class, my teacher took us for a nature walk, caught some tadpoles, and kept them in a jar. It wasn't too many weeks before these were sprouting legs, and getting on with the whole frog stage of life. It seems again, that frogs vary greatly. While a Bullfrog in warmer climes can make the transition in a few months, others might take up to two years.

A bullfrog on a lily pad: no doubt enjoying himself, but failing to challenge society's restrictive stereotypes

Agkistrodon Contortrix Mokasen; The Northern Copperhead

Identification: A brown snake normally around 30" long with darker bands. The body is moderately thick, the head somewhat "triangular" and the eyes elliptical. Several other snakes look somewhat similar, including the very common northern watersnake. To clearly identify the snake as a copperhead, look at lots of pictures of copperheads on the internet until you are good at it. Getting close enough to oggle his eyeballs for the elliptical pupil is not advised by me, although some maintain it can be done at a safe distance.

The Copperhead; A Snake who Might Bite you

As with most of nature's more undesirable occurrences, like lightning strikes and death by great white, you probably won't be bitten by a copperhead. However, you shouldn't completely rule out the possibility. I myself narrowly escaped a copperhead bite two years ago. I saw the serpent wiggling across the road, and without pausing to identify the species, i stopped my car, jumped out, and reached down to grab him. My fingers where about 4 inches away when I saw the snake was none other than the infamous Mokasen. I pulled my hand away. The snake struck. His fangs missed. I retreated to the car. If a movie is made of my life, this particular scene would be slow motion. Perhaps artistic embellishment would involve the fangs grazing my fingertips, yet failing to penetrate. It would be incredibly moving and suspenseful.

The point of this reminiscence is that not even a seasoned naturalist is entirely safe from the Copperhead. Indeed, he bites more people each year than any other poisonous snake in America.

The Copperhead Bite; What is it Like?

In a word; terrible. The copperhead is venomous, but not all venomous snakes are alike. In general, there are two types of venom. The first type is the neurotoxic venoms. These effect your nervous system, and are found in reptiles such as coral snakes and cobras. A neurotoxic snake may be deadly, but it's bite might not actually hurt at first. The other type of snake venom is hemotoxic. This type breaks down tissues such as muscles. While the hemotoxin of various snakes can differ in potency, they are all extremely painful. The Copperhead's venom is a hemotoxin. If he bites you, the pain will be remarkable. You are unlikely to die, but it will hurt a lot. There may be swelling, scarring, and perhaps the loss of whatever area was struck if you are unlucky. Usually, people only die from copperheads if they have the misfortune to encounter multiple snakes and receive multiple bites. Try to avoid this. If bitten, try to stay calm. You might get lucky, and the snake will not inject any venom. Even so, imobilize the wound as much as possible, and get to a hospital as quick as you can. In the best case, an ambulance could be called, and you could be transported. In any event, you want to move your body as little as possible after a bite while getting to treatment.

The Copperhead; Does he Want to Bite You?

I've combed the litertature seeking a definitive answer to this question, and I confess I am still undecided. Many of our animal friends loathe confrontation, and will scurry away given the opportunity. A skunk would probably rather not spray you. Even a grizzly bear will normally avoid you if he knows you're around. But there are a few unsavories out there that just like to mix it up. Pomatomus Saltatrix, the bluefish is a prime example. He lives to bite whatever poor soul swims too close.
So where does the copperhead fall on this spectrum? I'd have to say in the middle. Should you happen upon him, he's not guaranteed to take pains to avoid you. Different studies have shown different results, with some copperheads tending to slither away from larger animals, and others deciding to stay put. As far as I can tell, many mokasens are devil-may-care chaps who would just as soon stay in place and bite your ankle, as prudently move to avoid being trampled. On the other hand, the copperhead isn't overly antisocial. He won't normally drop down on you from a tree limb, or pretend to be your walking stick.

Does he Smell Like Cucumbers?

Probably not. A kind reader has shared in the comments section that this alleged smell may come from the environment of his den. However, in your efforts not to step on a concealed copperhead, please don't let everything hang upon fleeing the odor of garden salads.