September Species of the Month: Riffle Snaketail (Ophiogomphus carolus)
Our DSA September Species of the Month is the Riffle Snaketail (Ophiogomphus carolus), in the Clubtail Family Gomphidae. This small dragonfly (40-45 mm or approximately one-and-a-half inches plus) is usually found in the rivers of the Northeastern United States and some regions of Canada. Enjoy dragonfly chaser Kim Smith’s tale of tracking down this fascinating species.
Hell is for Snaketails
A few years ago I saw photos of a stunning green dragonfly and knew right away that I had to go see it for myself. The Riffle Snaketail is a Clubtail found only in a small portion of my home state of Ohio. It shows up for a few weeks each June in the northeastern corner of the state, not far from the Lake Erie shore.
As its name suggests, this beautiful dragon prefers to perch on rocks where shallow water flows fast over and around the rocks, creating riffles. One of the best places to find those conditions is in a tributary of the Grand River called Paine Creek. The cold and clear waters rush over the smooth river rock bottom of this creek bed that winds through a 100-foot-deep ravine. Accessing the creek requires descending 262 rustic wooden stairs, back and forth along the steep edge of the ravine, into Hell Hollow. And, if you’re paying attention, you’ll realize that it also requires climbing back up those 262 steps, an important point to keep in mind on a hot day.
In 2018, I wrote the tale of my first encounter with this species on my blog, Nature is My Therapy. That story contains the embarrassing revelation that my excitement and lack of attention to detail caused me to take a hundred rapid-fire pictures of Eastern Least Clubtails (Stylogomphus albistylus), thinking I was looking at the Snaketail. I’d zoomed my camera in on a distant Clubtail and saw enormous green eyes looking back at me, and just started shooting. Nevermind the fact that the color of the face and thorax were completely wrong!
Only after climbing out of Hell Hollow and texting two of my friends about my dragon-hunting “triumph” did I realize my humiliating mistake. To save face, I had to go back down the next day before actually seeing and documenting my prized quarry. (Yes, that was 1,048 stairs. Ouch.)
That experience taught me an important lesson about how expectations can mislead your brain. It also gave me sore legs for a week. But I discovered that I love being in this particular “Hell”; there’s something very rejuvenating about being down in that ravine, alone, with my feet bathed in cold rushing water and the sun on my face. It has become a ritual for me. Every June I make the two-hour drive to give myself the gift of Riffle Snaketails and intense ecotherapy.
On another visit to see the Snaketails, I perched motionless on a downed tree in the middle of the creek as dozens of diminutive Eastern Least Clubtails launched hunting forays from the rocks at my feet. That day, a lone Riffle Snaketail landed just a few feet in front of me and I was able to watch it for half an hour.
I feel a bond with the Riffle Snaketails. This type of Ode-watching experience is much preferred to the kind where I get to see an insect only long enough to get blurry documentation photos.
As of this writing, iNaturalist only shows 21 observations of this species in Ohio, by 11 observers from 2016 to 2022. The fact that the Riffle Snaketail has been reported by fewer than a dozen people in our state may reflect its scarcity, but it might also be due to the difficulty of accessing Hell Hollow. Luckily, in 2022 Riffle Snaketails were found at another nearby location that only has 170 steps.
I may have to check that out next year.
Our guest blogger for September is Kim Smith, an Odonata enthusiast in Toledo, Ohio. Kim leads local field trips to share her love of dragonflies and writes about them at NatureIsMyTherapy.com. She recently served as the President of Toledo Naturalists’ Association and is on the board of the Oak Openings Region chapter of Wild Ones, a nonprofit that educates the public about the ecological importance of native plants.