Behind the fences surrounding this 40-square-mile outback of cactus and wiry creosote, the largest remaining population of Mojave desert tortoises was soaking up the morning sun and grazing on a mix of wild greens and flowers.
But that didn’t mean the armored beasts were easy to find in a tiny spit of sand that Congress voted to protect in 1980 and designated with a name only herpetologists could love: Desert Tortoise Research Natural Area.
After a few hours of searching in late September, naturalist Lisa LaVelle tramped down a narrow path — past thorny brush that hid rattlesnakes and scorpions — and fixed her eyes on a tortoise the size of a shoebox.
She scanned its carapace for a GPS tracker or an identification tag. After spotting neither, she smiled and said, “Well, hello there! I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
California's Mojave desert tortoises move toward extinction. Why saving them is so hard
But that didn’t mean the armored beasts were easy to find in a tiny spit of sand that Congress voted to protect in 1980 and designated with a name only herpetologists could love: Desert Tortoise Research Natural Area.
After a few hours of searching in late September, naturalist Lisa LaVelle tramped down a narrow path — past thorny brush that hid rattlesnakes and scorpions — and fixed her eyes on a tortoise the size of a shoebox.
She scanned its carapace for a GPS tracker or an identification tag. After spotting neither, she smiled and said, “Well, hello there! I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
California's Mojave desert tortoises move toward extinction. Why saving them is so hard