More fun with Southern Flying Squirrels

 

Yesterday dawned crisp and snowy, but plans were afoot to join Professor Don Althoff of the University of Rio Grande and other squirrel enthusiasts to conduct research on one of our most interesting mammals, the Southern Flying Squirrel (Glaucomys volans). The temps were in the low teens when Shauna and I departed Columbus early that morning, and it was probably about 20 F when I made this image in northwestern Athens County. Our squirrel "lab" was those distant woods.

The meadow above is dubbed the Dennis Profant prairie and is part of Hocking College's land lab. Dennis was a professor there, and a real jack-of-all-trades when it came to the natural world. A true natural philosopher, with an especially keen interest in moths. We lost Dennis in 2015 - far too early - and this prairie is a fitting memorial to him. HERE IS a short piece that I wrote about Dennis.

This was our crew on this snowy, blustery day. Almost all 14 of us. Our fearless leader, the indefatigable Dr. Althoff, took the photo. Almost everyone here has been on at least one of these Southern Flying Squirrel (SFS from here on) box checks. I think it was my fifth, time, Shauna's second, and some of these people have been far more times than that.

Our leader, Don Althoff, scales the 35 lb. ladder that must be lugged over rugged terrain. One of the large boxes that the squirrels use for winter roosts - and nest sites in the breeding season - is in front of him.

Don has 16 squirrel trails in about a half-dozen southeastern counties, and each has 25 of these boxes. My iPhone recorded a distance of about 1.5 miles to get around this one. Not far at all, but throw in the hills, fairly deep snow, and the equipment that must be hauled along, and it's a pretty good workout (at least for the equipment-haulers).

This was cool, and highly unusual. As Don placed the ladder and began scaling the tree to this box, I noticed something in the hole. A SFS! The curious beast was peeking out to see what was going on. Such behavior is very rare as I understand it. Normally the squirrels are all sacked out at the bottom of the box, but either this guy wanted a peek at the winter wonderland, or he heard our approach and wanted to see what was happening.

One of the 16 SFS that was captured that day. One box had nine SFS inside! Althoff has had boxes with 15 squirrels on a few occasions. Why so many (there is almost always multiple squirrels roosting together)? SFS are highly social, but heat plays a big role in the formation of these squirrely scrums. Pack three, five, nine, or 15 squirrels in a box and its warm as toast in there, or at least far warmer than the outside air temperature.

All Don's gear is specially designed for the squirrels and expedites their safe and speedy handling and release. Each is weighed, sexed, and given an ear tag with a unique number that allows it to be positively identified if recaptured. Other data is collected as well, and over the nearly three decades that Althoff has studied SFS, he's generated a mountain of information on this little-known completely nocturnal mammal. Oh, squirrel releases are possibly the coolest part of the process. the SFS is placed on a tree trunk, and usually as soon as its handler lets go, it races upwards, 20-30 feet or higher. Then, oftentimes, it launches into an incredible glide that must be seen to be believed. Winglike flaps of tissue extend between forelegs and hindlegs, and when stretched taut form wings. The squirrel cannot fly, in the sense of sustained flight, but the furry aerobats are quite dexterous and jig and jag around trees and branches. While rare, these flight/glides can be 150 feet or more, although one-third or so that distance would be much more common. When the SFS lands, it flips its broad, flat beaverlike tail upwards. This sends the animal's head upward and slows the airspeed considerably, allowing for an easy landing. Almost invariably the newly alit squirrel dashes to the other side of the tree. That's likely an adaptation to thwart would-be predators such as owls, that may have been following it.

The following is a quote from the book Mammals of Ohio, by Jack Gottschang (1981): "Perhaps because of its nocturnal and secretive habits, this squirrel has escaped close investigation by all but a few mammalogists; no one has studied it in detail in Ohio."

Gottschang's words are now sorely dated, and I'm sure he'd be glad of it. Because of Don Althoff's remarkable tenacity in studying the difficult to access SFS, we know FAR more about them and their life history.

HERE IS a link to another piece that I wrote about Don and his work, this one from my Columbus Dispatch column, Nature, dated January 1, 2018. I've got a few more posts about SFS on this blog, with many more pictures. Just type "Althoff" into the search box at the top upper left corner of the blog.

Lots of cool stuff to post, but precious little time to do it. Hopefully a meatier post will come within a few days, but for now, here's one of the world's cutest birds:

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A male Red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) takes a pause from the hard work of harvesting seeds from Virginia Pine (Pinus virginianus) cones. Shauna and I surveyed my long-standing territory in the Hocking Hills Christmas Bird Count today. This nuthatch was with four comrades, and we found another later. It was 16 F when I made this image this morning, but the tiny but tough (average length is 4.3 inches) nuthatches were unfazed.

Red-breasted Nuthatches are cyclical in their southward winter peregrinations, and this has been a fairly lean year for them. Food shortages in northern forests spark these irruptions, and we get significant spikes in nuthatches every other year, or perhaps two years might pass before a noticeable spike.

Virginia Pine is quite valuable ecologically, as it favors poor soils where many other trees do not fare well, and in boom years it produces copious cone crops. This pine is probably one of the major food sources for overwintering Red-breasted Nuthatches is southeastern Ohio.

Today's count was productive, and we tallied 40 species, some in large numbers, including 400 Dark-eyed Juncos! Notable was an Eastern Phoebe. This flycatcher is quite hardy, but most seem to move southward if winter weather gets too intense. I suspect this phoebe may have been "fishing", as it had ice on its face and bill, and was hunting low along a section of stream that still had some open water. Phoebes will take small fish and other aquatic organisms if need be and see THIS POST for an amazing example of this, featuring photos by Chuck Slusarczyk.

While I expect to find a phoebe on this count, at least in milder winters, American Pipits are not on my radar in this mostly hilly and forested area. Yet we found two, working a tiny area of flooded lawn in someone's front yard. One just never knows where birds might appear.