As animals began to make their seasonal migrations, this year at Snake Road in Wolf Lake, Illinois, a parallel grand migration took place.
Herpetology enthusiasts across the country traveled from states as far as North Carolina, Florida, Colorado, Michigan, and Texas for a weekend-long camping trip in LaRue-Pine Hills with their eyes on the lookout for animal activity.
Since 1972, the Forest Service has closed the 2.5-mile stretch of road from March 15 to May 15 and September 1 to October 30 to allow for the safe migration of reptile and amphibian species traveling between the area's low, swampy summer feeding grounds in the west and its elevated, limestone bluffs in the east.
Denver businessman and Colorado Partners in Amphibian and Reptile Conservation co-chairman Tim Warfel helped organize the cross-country meetup via the North American Field Herping Association group on Facebook. Warfel is an admin in the group, which has nearly 20,000 members.
"I have a fantastic group of friends that I just enjoy being with all over the globe," Warfel said.
"There's just this deep camaraderie that we all just have; this shared love of not just reptiles and amphibians, but nature. And that's the way we grew up."
Migrating to animal migration sites is a hobby for Warfel, who estimated he spends at least 25 weekends a year on herpetological expeditions.
Most recently, Warfel's animal adventures have taken him to Vietnam with his friend, Matt Cage, and to Washington state, where he completed his goal of seeing every species of venomous snake in North America while visiting an acquaintance he first met on Snake Road. Other trips have taken him to China and western Europe.
As the campground of "herpers" stirs to life, hearty laughter begins breathing a natural excitement into the quiet morning. Small, individual conversations at tents quickly intertwine into a group discussion of storied sightings of rare species.
If their shared love of nature is not evident from their excited conversations, it certainly is from their collective experience.
Justin Michels shares his story of being bitten by a venomous snake. By his own admission, Michels thinks he would have been safer if he hadn't agitated the specimen with a fishing pole.
Mike Pingleton said he has frequented Snake Road during migration seasons dating back to 1977, when he first visited for a swamp ecology class. Montreat College environmental science instructor Joshua Holbrook said he made a 10-hour trip from North Carolina to attend the Snake Road meetup.
Together, Pingleton and Holbrook literally wrote the book on herpetology. The two published "The Field Herping Guide: Finding Amphibians and Reptiles in the Wild" together in June.
Amongst these Snake Road pedestrians, a community forms in mutual appreciation of nature.
While the older generations of herpetologists discuss the increase in foot traffic on the road and theories about social media's effect on the area, younger generations discuss camera equipment and species they have yet to see.
At one point on the reptilian road, a group of more than 40 pedestrians follow behind a short, determined man holding a pen in his mouth as he flips through a notebook. A star-struck murmur from members of a nearby group identifies the leader as Scott Ballard, a biologist with the Illinois Department of Natural Resources.
Regardless of experience, animal enthusiasts of all ages continue to hit Snake Road with the hopes of sighting the rarest of species in this region -- a mud snake or a timber rattlesnake.
Walkers on Snake Road point out their sightings to as many passersby as possible without scaring the specimen away.
Excitement hangs silently in the air as focused eyes scan for scales amongst the foliage and in the crevices of limestone bluffs.
As a herpetologist looks away from the search to glance ahead, the glance is met by a familiar face from previous animal adventures. Their focused gaze transforms into a welcoming smile and a warm hug is shared between friends.
The unique tranquility in these moments is fittingly reminiscent of the geology of Snake Road itself -- a diverse ecosystem where, twice a year, the world feels patient, amicable and accommodating.
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