Photo: Cheryl Reynolds
It’s that time again! As late summer marches into fall (usually on the occasion of my birthday), male tarantulas are seen wandering eight-leggedly over the hills and trails of our open spaces. This photo was taken by Cheryl at Borges Ranch last night. Jon saw one locally on the trail off snake road on Sunday. Some truly natural souls actually mark the moment they see their first tarantula as proof that summer is over—no back to school reminders for them!
Tarantulas are a misunderstood creature. Aphonopelma is a California native who spends most of the year in a burrow underground. Although it comes out all year to trap prey (usually crickets) it is primarily on beaver-time and not seen during the day. Our tarantula’s bite is about as hurtful as a bee sting and not deadly to anyone but small insects.
The great tarantula migration takes place after lucky males have survived for 7 years in their burrows as bachelors, and undergone one final shedding of their skeleton to emerge as full adults, ready for mating. (Their new clothes come complete with little “keep-the-girl-from-killing-me-while-we-do-it devices.) (Which often work, although there is no guarantee a famished female won’t be willing to kill him after they do it…) Adorned with his new, wonder-woman bracelets, he heads out to our open spaces, cruising the hill and dale for “Ms. Right Now”.
If you’re lucky enough to see such a tarantula, you might notice the prowling look of determination on his face. He’s looking for traces of a female, and when he finds her he will work to entice her out of her burrow. If she she is suitably beguiled, he uses his protective armor to keep her fangs out of the way while they rendezveus. If she lets him get away after the adventure, he’ll crawl around looking for other females. He never again returns to his burrow, and when the cold weather comes, he’ll die. Its his Dorian Gray autumn, where he squeezes the very last taste of life he can.
Mrs. Tarantula, however, goes straight back to her cozy burrow and weaves a sheet of silk to lay her eggs on. Then she folds the silk into a woven spinneret basket and watches them until they hatch. Out of the hundred eggs laid, usually 1-2 will survive, so we know its hard work to be a tarantula. Her stay at home-iness means that she might survive up to 20 years.
Keep an eye on the ground and remember our furry friends as you wander. I am fairly certain that seeing a tarantula on the prowl is a very good sign that you are likely to be lucky in love soon. Surely that’s the message of all these crawling critters: Take risks! Walk in the sun! Make conversation!
Just don’t blame me if you get eaten.
