A Rare Visit by a Band of Chulos and a Stotting Mule Deer Buck

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First, a note of sincere, heartfelt thanks to everyone who so generously contributed to my appeal for a new pair of binoculars! The appeal was a great success – I am elated to say that the new binoculars are in my hands, and they are absolutely stunning. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for the gift of such an exceptionally important tool that will enable me to continue doing what I do as a naturalist. I’m beaming as I write this.  🙂

White-nosed coatis are one of the most charismatic and fascinating native mammals of SE Arizona. Bands of them are fairly common in the Middle San Pedro Valley where my family and I reside, but I have rarely documented their presence on our property. Only days ago, my wife saw a lone individual close by our home. Two days later, a band of coatis  crossed our little acreage unseen, but they left abundant and unmistakable signs of their presence. 

Just south of the Arizona/Mexico border, coatis are known as chulos (there are several other Mexican names for them); in the US, most people refer to them as coatis or coatimundis. Taxonomically, they are known as Nasua narica. Among a number of their unique features, coatis are one of the world’s very few social omnivores. (Can you think of any others? Offhand, all I can come up with are humans and meerkats.)

Some two decades ago, when I first began to roam the wildlands of this valley, I was not sure how to separate the tracks of coatis from those made by one of their cousins, the raccoon. I had heard that they were difficult to distinguish, but that soon proved to be incorrect. This exemplified one of many things that a naturalist must learn by direct experience out in the field, for the great majority of tracking books fall far short of being accurate, reliable sources of information.

So, how does one recognize the differences between the tracks of these two animals – tracks that, ostensibly, can look a lot alike?

Fresh coati tracks in fine dust under my ramada reveal toes positioned tightly together with consistent thickness along the length of each toe.

These raccoon tracks, particularly those made by the front feet, (at left), show diagnostic shaping and separation of the toes. The toes are proximally narrow in comparison to their distal ends, where they widen into bulbous tips with relatively short claws. Once this distinctive toe shape is recognized, misidentifications between well-defined raccoon and coati tracks can be eliminated.

When a band of coatis forages, they commonly pause in certain areas where they make numerous shallow digs for food such as beetle grubs. The band that visited here just days ago left this characteristic array of holes behind. (Note the 6-inch ruler included in the photograph for scale.) Skunks are common locally, and they also dig for a living, but not in this fashion.

On a hot summer day years ago, I photographed this chulo sign along the banks of the San Pedro River. The coatis had been digging into the sandy riverbank, leaving some spectacularly long claw marks in addition to the excavated holes.

Another pair of native mammals that can leave similar signs of their presence are mule and whitetail deer. One of several ways to distinguish their signs comes into play when these animals are moving at high speeds.  Whitetail deer gallop when they run fast, but mule deer tend to stott when they are in a hurry. Stotting refers to an upward leaping motion where all four feet leave the ground at the same time and land at roughly the same time – a type of movement that most people would describe as a hop. And what a hop it can be!

A mule deer buck moving at high speed left a set of tracks near our home last week, beautifully defined in rain-moistened soil. This deer had easily leapt over two fencelines in less than several dozen yards and had clearly been moving very quickly. I laid a measuring tape on the ground along the deer’s trackway – it revealed a single stott that measured 19 feet, three inches in length. No problem for an adult mule deer.

Here are the four feet of the buck at one of the points where he landed. The deer did not stop here – these tracks were part of a series of energetic stotts. Note that the front feet are positioned ahead of the hind feet, (relative to the direction of travel). If the deer had been a galloping whitetail, this order would be reversed, (rear tracks to the front and front tracks to the rear). Note the spread clouts of the hooves. Deer (and many other mammals, including barefoot humans) autonomically spread their hooves like this in order to prevent slippage as they gallop or stott.

READING LAND – AN ICONIC LIZARD AND A UNIQUE SOUTHWESTERN MAMMAL

This will be the first installment of “Reading Land” on this blog. More will come in the future. The art and science of reading a landscape and its life is at the very heart of what a naturalist does. Learning to read the tracks and other signs that creatures inscribe into the places they inhabit can reveal a great deal of information that may not be gleaned in any other way. “Reading sign” is instinctive with me after a lifetime of study in the outdoors. Read on to discover how animal signs can instill a sense of fascination and wonder in those who learn to notice – and interpret – them.

On a hot, midsummer day not long ago, I walked over to our shed; a simple, no-frills, three-sided building with a dirt floor that all manner of wildlife love to visit. The fine-grained, dry soil renders tracks with plenty of detail. As I walked in, a new set of tracks presented themselves, tracks made by a creature unique to this part of the world, a creature that is very rarely seen in the wild. A Gila monster had investigated the shed, leaving some fascinating tracks. Unlike other lizards in southeastern Arizona, this one has dimpled feet, so identifying its tracks is straightforward as long as the substrate will reveal fine detail. The lizard’s tracks reminded me immediately of porcupines, for they are among the few mammals that also have golf-ball-like dimples on the soles of their feet. I believe the porcupine’s dimples are an adaptation for climbing, and could serve Gila monsters in a similar way. I once thought that these big, bulky lizards were 100% terrestrial, but after living with them for many years, I have learned that it is not uncommon for them to climb up into trees. Bird eggs are highly sought after by Gila monsters; herpetologists state that they have a close association with quail…ground-nesting birds that provide roaming Gila monsters with a rich source of food via their eggs. Why not search the trees for the eggs of other birds?

Strange tracks in my shed revealed the unseen presence of a rare creature, a Gila monster. Note the unique dimples in the tracks.

Finding tracks of a rarely seen animal is exciting! I would have had no idea the lizard was around were it nor for those distinctive tracks. With respect to certain animals, reading their sign has taught me more about them than anything else. Wolverines, for example, roamed the Montana Rockies where I grew up. I have hiked more than 17,000 miles in occupied wolverine habitat in the wildest parts of Montana, but I have only seen a wild wolverine once. They are rare. I learned a lot about them, however, by following their trackways for long distances, particularly during the winter, when snow transformed the landscape into an open newspaper.

A coati in the barn…when lone individuals are encountered, they are usually adult males like this one. Otherwise, coatis are normally seen in social groups.

Here along the San Pedro River, interesting animal signs are often written into the face of the land. One of this region’s other unique animals is the coati. These social omnivores wander the river bottoms in groups of up to thirty or more individuals, foraging for food. 

A sand bank along the San Pedro River has stories to tell of the animals that live along the river…

Along a dry reach of the river, I discovered some long claw marks etched into the sand banks, along with some holes that furred paws had been digging into. The width of the claw marks, coupled with the place where I found them, and the animal’s investigation of many of the adjacent holes pointed strongly to the work of a coati. These raccoon relatives dig for a living, using a highly developed sense of smell to locate grubs, insect pupae, and other foods hidden underground. I find their tracks and their signs far more often than I see them.

A closer look at some of the claw marks in the sand bank. These were left by a coati.