Reader Question

Is there anywhere in particular in Radnor you could suggest that my friend and I look for raccoons? I thought I saw their tracks in the mud under the spillway bridge, but I wasn’t sure.

Answer

Let me tell you, I have gotten lucky on each of my (merely TWO) raccoon sightings at Radnor Lake. The first raccoon sighting, of which I have no photo, the critter was searching for crayfish and other food along the banks of Otter Creek, within sight of where Otter Creek Road goes over Otter Creek — right beside the West parking lot. I still make a habit of looking down the creek whenever I walk over it.

My second raccoon sighting, two nights ago, was also pure luck. I was hiking after the rainstorm and the raccoon happened to be hunting right beside the trail. The raccoon immediately went for the nearest tree and started climbing, though it was not doing so very quickly. They do not seem to be very fast animals, from what I have seen; they have tended to lumber along slowly, even after being seen, rather than run away.

I’d say the best chance of a raccoon sighting is after a rain and as near to dark as possible, since raccoons are mostly nocturnal. They are also rather secretive, so hiking when few others are there would help a lot. This last sighting of mine occurred when no one else was parked at the west lot.

If you do happen upon a raccoon at Nashville’s Radnor Lake, then you have a great chance of getting pictures; it will probably climb the nearest tree.

More About Northern Raccoons

The bandit-masked raccoon is a familiar sight just about everywhere, and they will eat just about anything. These ubiquitous mammals are found in forests, marshes, prairies, and even in cities — often being forcibly removed from fireplaces. Raccoons are highly adaptable, and they use their dexterous front paws and long fingers to find and feast on a wide variety of tasty (well, to them) fare.

In the natural world, raccoons snag many of their meals in the water. These nocturnal foragers use lightning-quick paws to grab crayfish, frogs, snails, minnows, and other aquatic creatures. On land, they pluck mice and insects from their hidey-holes and raid nests to snatch eggs.

Raccoons also eat fruits and plants—including those grown in human gardens and farms. They will even open garbage cans to dine on the contents.

These ring-tailed animals are equally opportunistic when it comes to choosing a nest or den. They may inhabit a tree hole, fallen log, or a house’s attic. Females have one to seven cubs in early summer; the young raccoons often spend the first two months or so of their lives high in a tree hole. When the cubs begin to explore on their own, mother and children move to the ground.

Raccoons in the northern parts of their range gorge themselves in spring and summer to store up body fat. They then spend much of the winter asleep in a den. There are six other species of raccoons, in addition to the familiar northern (North American) raccoon. Most other species live on tropical islands.

The Latin nickname, or scientific name, for the raccoon is Procyon Lotor. Lotor means “washer” and raccoon is Algonquin for arakun, meaning “he scratches with his hands”.

Complete Classification of the Raccoon
Animailia – Animal (I swear, ’tis true!)
Chordata – Central Nervous Spine
Vertbrata – Vertebrae
Mammalia – Mammal
Carinivora – Carnivore (actually, raccoons are omnivores)
Procyonidae – Family
Procyon – Raccoon
Lotor – Northern Raccoon

Too bad there is not a category for scavenger.

Go Deeper, Or Not

Raccoon Photo Gallery

A Blogging, Snarling Raccoon

The Truth About Raccoons

On Your Plate?

Raccoon Rage Raccoons are NOT rodents, BTW…

Upcoming Subjects

If you have any subjects you’d like to read more about, just ask. If it has some potential and is in line with the subject material of this blog, then I’ll probably follow through with your request.

Cairns: what the heck are they, and why do I see them almost everywhere I hike?
Trees: identifying the most common trees at Radnor Lake
Rat snakes: next time I catch one, I’ll go into detail about rat snakes…as of now, I STILL await my first snake capture of the year! How lame…
Bald eagles: why do they come and go at Radnor Lake, and why don’t they stay?

How Long Will It Take?

It’s rather entertaining to mention someone’s name on the web and then see how long it takes for them to find it — perhaps by Googling themselves or through word of mouth. How long will it take Mr. Tracy Smith, from Hilton Head Island, currently residing in Nashville, Tennessee, to learn that he is being mentioned on this web page? Why on earth did I start thinking about the old college (Lipscomb University in Nashville) gang tonight, specifically Tracy Smith?

Oh yeah, I know…I am listening to an absolutely fantastic Jethro Tull DVD called Ian Anderson Plays the Orchestral Jethro Tull. Tracy and I had a real affinity for acoustic Tull, and I thought of Tracy for the first time in ages as I listened to this ultra groovy DVD. When, if ever, will you read this, Tracy?

This DVD is loaded with all the great acoustic Tull songs, including Wond’ring Aloud which is rarely played live. The song that reminds me most of Tracy Smith is Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Day; I picked it up at McKay Used Books and DVDs earlier this evening, by mistake; I intended to examine the DVD more closely, not take it to the counter. Oh, well!

Another such time is immediately following rain – especially a highly relieving rain after a sustained dry period. During the afternoon I was closely watching weather.com’s radar, planning to hit the trails at Radnor Lake just as the rain left the area, and I did just that. Sunday afternoon’s respectable, heavy, sustained rainstorm certainly seemed to bring out the critters of both the warm- and cold-blooded variety.

I thought I was going to have hiking buddy Steve D. along, but this was not to be on this night.

The first condition of note – it stuck out like the proverbial swollen, purple, bloodied thumb – was that I was the only one parking my car on the west side! That’s right — there were no other cars in the entire parking lot: no Jeeps, no Beamers, not a single double-parked Lotus! I liked that. I had the place to myself, though not for very long. (Later, someone crept up behind me and nearly scared me to death.)

This afternoon’s rain was a relatively prolonged soaker; I live only three or four miles from Radnor Lake, and it absolutely poured rain for over an hour there, so I figured Radnor Lake had received about as much precip. I was looking forward to seeing how much duckweed remained on the surface of the lake after such a downfall, and I also wondered whether it was enough rain to push the water up over the spillway and into Otter Creek. (It was — barely.)

On the trail just off the lot, en route to the spillway and just by the first bench came my first encounter. A turtle was almost finished digging a nesting hole with its hind legs and was probably about to start dropping eggs into the hole. Unfortunately, the turtle had selected a poor spot if she expected to remain undisturbed throughout the process. Turtles, like most other animals, sometimes do not take well to being bothered or surprised while they are trying to deliver their young or lay their eggs. I suspect it must be something like trying to relieve yourself when someone is talking to you, only worse!

The turtle stopped digging and drew her head into her shell as I walked up. Her hind legs were still down in the hole, but she stopped scooping out the dirt. She was perfectly still, perhaps wondering if I saw her – if indeed turtles can wonder that. I took a couple of shots and opted to leave her be, opting to check again on my way back to the car.

I thought about it as I walked: should I move the eggs to a safer location? That would be a flagrant violation of the rules. I decided I would let a local turtle researcher biologist know about the nest; after all, he has the card-carrying clearance necessary to move the eggs, if need be.

The next creature was a deer. Nothing special for Radnor Lake regulars, but this doe was in a fairly interesting spot; she was down in Otter Creek, and I had a good view of her from the spillway bridge. She ran downstream a ways when she saw me approaching the bridge, but then she paused to pose for me.

The water level had risen just enough to flow over the spillway, but only in the small indented section in the middle of the spillway. The water had certainly been flowing more a few minutes earlier, as there was brown water tumbling down the cascades visible from the first (the newest) observation platform.

My next encounter was to be my personal favorite, as well as a personal first for me at Radnor Lake. Walking on the Lake Trail, just after crossing the longer bridge, I saw bushes moving and heard rustling just to my right. I did not see anything at first, for all the bushes and such, but a second later I saw that I had startled a hunting raccoon. I suppose the raccoon simply chose the closest tree to climb, but it was such a small tree it was almost humorous; I could have easily shaken it loose had I been so inclined. (Of course, I was not.)

The raccoon paused several times as it climbed the young tree to look over at me to see what I was doing, perhaps wishing I would shove off. It was almost too dark to get pictures, but as it turned out there was just enough light to make the flash unnecessary – a good thing, given how incredibly reflective the eyes of a raccoon are! (See pics.)

The raccoon climbed just about all the way to the top of the tree. Much further and the limbs would have been bending big-time. The raccoon was just so. . . well, so darn cute in that little tree, just staring at me, probably wondering why I was just staring at him. Or her.

June 17, 2008.
There was more introspection than wildlife viewing this evening, although there was one wildlife sighting worthy of mention.

It was late dusk and I had finished hiking. I was walking down the Otter Creek Road hill, nearing Radnor Lake’s west parking lot, when I stopped to peer down at the spillway-fed creek. It looked to me as though there were more ripples in the water than there should have been, but I saw nothing to create such ripples, as far as I could tell. A few seconds later, a raccoon became visible as it walked downstream at water’s edge, foraging and hunting food. They’ll eat a wide variety of smaller creek inhabitants. It quickly disappeared from sight, taking cover in some creekside bushes to continue its hunting.

I cannot recall ever having seen a live raccoon in Nashville, so as bland as a raccoon sighting might seem to some, I was glad to have glimpsed it.