THE CHORUS OF THE CHORUS FROGS

Early every year in the Pacific Northwest a familiar sound rings out, telling us it is spring whether it seems that way or not. this is the “song” or advertisement call of the male Pacific Chorus Frog, Pseudacris regilla.

Most people recognize the call immediately as the generic frog call of movies in decades past. As this is a common frog (or at least used to be) in Hollywood, California, its call was incorporated into many a movie that needed frog calls as ambience. In fact the “ribbit, ribbit” sound has become the stereotype of frog calls.

These frogs come out of their winter dormancy very early in spring, when, to paraphrase Robert Burns, a young frog’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. The only way a frog has to express itself in such a situation is to call . . . . and call . . . . and call. And that they do, with surprising strength.

When a male frog feels these stirrings, he heads for the nearest pond or marsh, usually in the evening but sometimes even during the day. On arrival, he jumps in the water and swims to what he considers a good position. Only the frog knows why it is a good position, but it probably provides a place to hold onto the vegetation and a place where he can be easily seen as well as heard. Interestingly, it is often the same male that calls first each evening.

He begins to call: ribbit, ribbit, ribbit, a creaky two syllables that carries at least a hundred yards or more on a quiet night. Another frog heads for the pond, either because hopping downhill in a moist environment will lead to water or because it homes in on the first frog. The second frog begins to call, perfectly insinuating its calls between those of the first. The two may sound quite different, so we hear ribbit, rabbit, ribbit, rabbit, ribbit, rabbit.

A third male begins to call, amazingly also able to insert its calls into the soundscape so they can be heard as distinct: ribbit, rabbit, robbit, ribbit, rabbit, robbit . . . the pace is speeding up, and there is no room for a fourth frog, but that one calls anyway. As the chorus swells, the individual voices become less apparent, even though the structure may still be there, but a female approaching the pond can easily distinguish the individual voices.

Females apparently choose males based on the vigor of their songs, and as the evening progresses, more and more males acquire a mate. The male clasps the female and stays with her while she looks for a place to lay her eggs. She finds such a place, lays a cluster of eggs, and the male fertilizes them.

The eggs hatch in a few days, and the tadpoles grow quickly on a diet of plant matter. After a few months, they finally absorb their tails and grow a set of limbs and are then ready to leave the pond. If they survive the year, they will return the following spring, and the pond will resound again with the chorus frog chorus.

Dennis Paulson

FROGS ARE JUMPING!

Spring in the Pacific Northwest was made for amphibians. They flourish in cooler temperatures than reptiles, and they do best where it’s wet, so the cool, wet springs of this region are great for them. And because amphibians need moisture and are small and have many predators, most of them are active at night, so that’s the time to be out looking for them. Most amphibian hunters use a headlamp to keep their hands free, as amphibians are elusive little critters.

There is a moderate diversity of frogs in this area, some of them common. The most ubiquitous is the Pacific Chorus Frog (Pseudacris regilla), and it seems as if they can hardly wait to start breeding. Individuals are heard calling during warmer winter days, and the choruses really start up by February. Their ribbit call is known to all because so many movies are made in Hollywood, where the species is common. The call is first heard individually and then swells into a chorus, as more and more males head for the wetlands in which they breed.

The Western Toad (Anaxyrus boreas [formerly Bufo boreas]) was also one of the most commonly seen frogs in the Northwest, but this is one of the species that has declined greatly in recent years, as part of the Great Amphibian Problem. We don’t see as many of them as we used to, but they are still widespread. If you can’t find an adult, you may see masses of little black tadpoles swimming together in a mountain lake or a shore lined with toadlets that have just undergone metamorphosis in late summer.

The Red-legged Frog (Rana aurora) is the common native frog that looks like a classical frog – a long-legged jumper with smooth skin. It is most common in wooded areas with abundant ponds, where you may find its big floating mass of around a thousand eggs in spring. You have to have one in the hand to see the conspicuous red colors on the underside of the legs and body. In the mountains and east of the Cascades you can find two related species, the Cascades Frog (Rana cascadae) and Columbia Spotted Frog (Rana luteiventris).

The Bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus [formerly Rana catesbeiana]) is one of the villains in the amphibian story. Brought from eastern North America for culinary and sporting reasons, this species seems to flourish almost anywhere it is introduced. Unfortunately, it does so at the expense of other amphibians and other aquatic creatures. A virtual eating machine, a Bullfrog will take in anything that fits in its capacious mouth, and it has been implicated in the decline of some other frogs that share its aquatic habitat.

One of the most interesting things about Northwestern frogs is their silence. Anyone coming from the East is used to frog choruses with multiple species calling, one of the real thrills of a rainy spring evening in Massachusetts or Florida or Missouri. But our frogs don’t say much. Although some toads have ear-splitting trilled calls, ours makes nothing more than chirps. Red-legged Frogs call from under water and can be heard only at very close range. In fact, our only noisy native frog is the chorus frog. Of course the introduced Bullfrog has added much to our soundscape, its loud jug-o-rum resounding from warm-water lakes all over the region.

The Tailed Frog (Ascaphus truei) is another silent species - it doesn’t even have ears. It lives in rushing streams, where almost any sound would be obscured by the sound of the water. Unlike many other frogs, the males don’t attract females by their calls, but instead go looking for them. They also can’t fertilize the eggs in the standard way by depositing sperm on them, as the current would wash the sperm away. Thus the males have evolved an extension, but it’s not a tail!

There is still much controversy about what has caused so many frog species all over the world to become rare or, in some cases, extinct. A special kind of fungus called a chytrid (Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis) is heavily involved, as infestations of this fungus can kill off all the individuals of some species in an area. Fortunately, our Northwest amphibians have not declined as thoroughly as have populations of many tropical montane species.

Dennis Paulson

5,000+ bullfrogs dying in desert potholes

At Potholes Reservoir, Grant Co, Washington I discovered a rather dramatic scene of thousands of bullfrog tadpoles that were trapped in drying mud holes on 29 Aug 2009 (Photo 1). The small mud hole at the top right was about 3 ft and the larger in the middle of the picture about 12 ft in diameter. The larger contained approx 5,000 bullfrog tadpoles based on counts of a few subsamples; most were dead. The two mud holes in the photo had water about 4” deep a week prior to the photo and the surface quivered with wriggling tadpoles when approached. 

Typically bullfrog tadpoles in the Northwest remain in ponds for at least one winter and grow to a total length of about 130 mm+ before morphing into froglets. Most of the tadpoles had small to medium size hind legs and were less than 110 mm in total length, which is the lower extreme of the size when bullfrog tadpoles could morph (Photo 2). Under normal conditions with plenty of food and no crowding, the tadpoles in the picture would be about one year old, but if food limited or crowded, they could be two years old. Although most were not ready to morph, a few had started the process and were hopping away from the drying mud holes. The closest pond was 100 ft away, but with the heat and predators, their chances were not good (Photo 3 and 4). The mud recorded tracks of great blue herons, great egrets, killdeer or yellowlegs, coyotes and black-billed magpies (Photo 5). Yellowlegs have small mouths, but eat the tadpoles by vigorous shaking the tadpoles to pieces.

The dead and dying tadpoles illustrate one limit to this invasive species’ success – they can’t survive in ephemeral ponds. Although the area is flooded as the level of the reservoir rises during winter and spring, as the water level drops through the summer, they move to deeper water. The mud holes were at a low spot so presumably the tadpoles moved to the deeper water as the water level dropped through the summer, but they moved to the wrong pond and were cut off.

Bullfrogs have recently expanded into the main reservoir and are now extremely common in Crab Creek beaver ponds and in ponds near Job Corp Dike, which is at the NW corner of the reservoir. There were none in 2002, but tadpoles starting showing up in traps in 2006, and 2009 was the first year I observed adult and juveniles widespread throughout the region. One 12 m dia pond at the Job Corps Dike had over 100 frog heads visible as they floated on the surface waiting for a prey object to venture near (Photo 6). There were none at Dodson Road/Winchester Wasteway (10 mi to the west) or at I-road/Frenchman Hills Wasteway (16 mi WSW). They were recorded in lower Crab Creek, south of O’Sullivan Dam, prior to 2005 (WA Gap analysis). The species was introduced into Washington from east North American in the 1920-30’s for food, sport and for pond features and have since spread throughout lower Puget Sound and the Columbia basin and are slowly spreading into new regions such as Potholes Reservoir.

It is generally assumed that the bullfrogs are harmful to native species. But at Potholes Reservoir, they are simply joining other introduced species in the reservoir such as large and smallmouth bass, yellow perch, pumpkinseed, and bluegill that I caught on the same trip (Photo 7). Additional introduction include are catfish, carp, crappie, and rainbow trout. In prior years, I found Pacific Chorus Frogs common around the beaver ponds and leopard frogs rare, but always present. I found neither of these species in 2009 searches, and it is possible they were supplanted or eaten by more common bullfrogs.

I happen to like bullfrogs and felt for the little guys as they struggled to survive, but that’s life in the desert. They were all turned into tadpole jerky by the sun and are now in December probably providing coyotes and magpies with snacks.

   

Gary Shugart