Wildlife Wednesday: Battlebots
Originally published October 4, 2023—updated with a tribute to Mika, a wild tortoise who roamed Indian Cove
It’s Desert Tortoise Week! We celebrate our favorite charismatic mid-size reptile with a video Twentynine Palms resident Mary Kay sent us of two males jousting near her home. (She assures us the loser survived the encounter.)
Our own two tortoises Wez and Gilderoy (10 points to Gryffindor if you know who he was named for; 100 points if you can ID Wez) have spent the last month trying to annihilate each other. Wez has climbed over the barrier between them, shoved it down, and dug under it to get at Gilderoy.
Now that it’s cooler, thankfully, all they want to do is snooze in the sun and eat desert willow flowers and nopales.
Jousting tortoises (video: Mary Kay Sherry)
It’s an enormous treat to spot a tortoise on a desert walk or watch one amble by your house. This year [2023], with abundant spring rain and the soaking we got from the hurricane, has been a very good year for wild tortoises, with plenty of flowers and greenery for them to eat. Ensuring habitat for these intriguing beasts is the reason we protect the desert.
They are very long-lived, even in the wild, because they spent most of their time sleeping, an idea some of us can get behind. If they survive ravens when they are hatchlings, they can live to be 80 years old, per the US Fish & Wildlife Service. The Marines have taken protecting tortoises very seriously—here’s a fairly recent report on their efforts to raise and release youngsters.
This week the park will host a Tortoise Table at the visitor center in 29, with talks at 7 pm on October 5 and 7 at campsite 40 in Indian Cove [note - this refers to 2023]. Check out Gary Daigneault’s talk with park biologist Michael Vamstead to learn more about our local tortoises. U.S. Fish & Wildlife has an overview of tortoise events in the region; be sure to invite your favorite reptile. And check out Saving Slowpoke, which “spreads love and information about the Mojave desert tortoise.”
If you look closely, you can see a very young tortoise pooping.
R.I.P. Mika (~1975-2025)
Just a few weeks after we moved into our house in 2019, a wild female desert tortoise swung by, thrilling us and our two male tortoises. We had treated Wez and Gilderoy in the past for respiratory infections, so we understood not to let them interact—but the boys knew she was there.
Mika stopping by on her walkabout. Usually indifferent, sometimes she was curious about me—and once nipped my thumb.
Mika would wander by every few weeks, and she brightened the pandemic year by digging a burrow under a creosote behind the house and spending the winter. She’d come and go, and when it rained, she’d stump off to scrapes and hollows she sensed would collect water.
I’d run into her on rambles around the undeveloped land near us, lounging beneath ephedra or trundling across a wash, eating tiny poppies that appeared after winter rain. Mostly she ignored me, but if it was a warm day, she might take cover in the shadow I cast. Humans can be useful!
She lived on her own terms. I picked her up on Memorial Day this year, though, when she crossed the road in front of one of the three vacation home rentals around us. I worried visitors might run over her and placed her away from houses. She felt heavy and strong.
But maybe she wasn’t healthy. Sadly, the very dry spring and summer were too much for her.
She showed up a few weeks ago and followed the shade and sun around the south side of the house, moving just a few feet at a time. I worried about her and asked a local tortoise scientist to take a look, which he kindly did. He explained she was dehydrated and in poor condition, and although we took her to a vet and tried to rehydrate her, she died on Sunday.
I will miss looking out the window and seeing her under the creosote, and I think the land will miss her too. The tortoise expert wrote me:
I am glad that you were able to provide it care, and hope that another female tortoise brings joy to you at your home, and life. They are near and dear to our hearts, and we must continue to conserve them. Let’s make a significant difference.
My young neighbors Willy and Avery love the wild tortoises they see. I hope they can experience encounters with these wise and beautiful animals for the rest of their lives. Right now, heart-broken, I’m not optimistic.
Mika’s squiggly tracks.
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Just found this. Brought tears. Thank you for the love you feel for the desert. It is the richest place, filled with treasures. I lived on Yucca Mesa north of Yucca valley for a while. It was the most interesting time in a life that has been anything but dull. p.s. You are a terrific writer, lush when needed, spare when not.
So sad about Mika. Thanks for sharing her story.