Western Morning News (Saturday)
Adding an adder to spring sightings
This is the best time of year to spot the shy and stocky adder as it basks in spring sunshine. Charlie Elder headed to the moors to try his luck looking for these elusive reptiles
Spring – a time of daffodils, bluebells, birdsong… and adders. The adder – also known as the viper – is not a species we generally associate with this time of year. But in early spring these resident reptiles begin to stir from their winter slumber, emerging from the hiding places where they have endured during the colder months in order to bask on warm days in March and April.
The males emerge earliest, and generally stick close to home, soaking up the sunshine to raise their body temperature as they wake up and warm up ready for the months to come. And a few days ago I went in search of my first of the year on Dartmoor where I live.
While the moor has a healthy population of adders, sightings are far from as frequent as one might suppose, given these shy creatures quickly head for cover when they detect heavy footsteps approaching.
We have three kinds of snake in Britain – the grass snake, the rare smooth snake and the adder.
The adder is thick built, grey or brown in colour, with red eyes, and can be identified by the black zig-zag running down its back. It is also our only venomous snake – but a little perspective is needed when it comes to the danger this much-feared species poses.
Adders are not aggressive, preferring to hide when disturbed, and records of bites are rare. Inquisitive dogs are more at risk of a nip than people.
The last person in Britain to die from an adder bite was in 1975, and there have only been 14 human deaths attributed to adders since 1876.
Statistically speaking, when going for a country walk cattle are far more dangerous. Between March 2000 and March 2020, 98 people were killed by cattle in the UK, according to the Health & Safety Executive. Of those, 22 were members of the public, with the rest being either farmers or farm workers.
Having said that, one should not be complacent about adders. While the majority of bites cause only a minor and localised reaction, they can occasionally prove problematic. The advice is not to apply a tourniquet or try to cut or suck the venom out – instead anyone bitten should remain calm and seek medical attention.
Adders are mostly found in open habitats, such as heathland, moorland, along coast paths and woodland rides, road and rail embankments.
They have been suffering a long-term population decline in Britain, put down to habitat loss and fragmentation as well as human disturbance and persecution.
Research by the University of Reading, published in 2019, suggested that if their downward trend continued they could eventually be restricted to just a few sites within twenty years.
Population data was collected as part of Make The Adder Count citizen science surveys carried out by local reptile and amphibian groups over more than a decade, and the findings indicated that most sites surveyed had small populations which were losing numbers, while fewer sites with large populations were faring better.
Researcher Dr Emma Gardner concluded: “If these trends continue, adders will become restricted to just a few sites in the UK, significantly increasing the extinction risk for this priority species in Britain.”
Climate change could also have an impact. While reptiles are warmth-loving creatures, the adder is well adapted to cold conditions, and is found in northern Scotland and even above the Arctic Circle in
Scandinavia. Milder winters mean they have for the first time been reported as active during every month of the year in Europe – which could make them vulnerable at times when they should be hibernating.
Even during spring, when adders are most easily observed basking in the sun, they are extremely well camouflaged, and spotting one coiled up motionless amid bracken or long grass is a real challenge.
I visited a south-facing hillside where I have seen them before in late March – and given they remain faithful to established sites I was confident of getting lucky.
Wandering slowly between the boulders and gorse, I checked the base of rocks and cosy retreats beneath overhanging vegetation where one or two might be curled up catching a few rays. The key is to look a little way ahead, before they see or feel you coming.
However, a chilly breeze meant that the late morning sun was struggling to impart much warmth, and the conditions were far from ideal.
So I headed off for a woodland walk and lunch to kill time before returning once the temperature had nudged into double figures.
Persistence paid off and a few strides from the path I saw a single individual curled up like a Cumberland sausage beneath a lump of granite.
One needs to be extra stealthy
when approaching. They may look dozy, but are ever vigilant. It pays not to break the skyline with your silhouette or cast your shadow over the resting snake as you move and to walk as if in slow motion, even if it is not always easy to keep your balance.
Eventually I got to within a couple of metres (social distancing from snakes is recommended), and gradually inched my camera up to my eye, avoiding jerky movements that would have sent the adder scarpering beneath the rock in a flash.
I managed to take a few photos without alerting it, them left it in peace in order to check out neighbouring areas, though without luck.
When I returned I couldn’t see my adder at first. But for some reason my eye was drawn to the top of the boulder, and there it was on the move, gliding slowly over the mossy surface amid the gorse to a new sun spot where it laid out full stretch, flattening its body slightly to increase its surface area exposed to the sun. It was a decent size, perhaps two feet in length, and the largest I have ever seen – not that I was prepared to hold a tape measure alongside to find out exactly how long!
Eventually I headed off, delighted to have had such a good sighting.
Whether you like adders or find them sinister, few UK animals make for such attention-grabbing and memorable encounters. Perhaps as much because one doesn’t tend to chance across them often. They do their level best not to be noticed and to keep out of our way – which will come as a relief to many.
Though this month, if you’re really fortunate, you might even spot male adders putting aside their natural wariness and ‘dancing’ – that is engaged in sinuous wrestling matches with heads held high trying to over-power opponents as they battle over larger females which have just emerged from hibernation.
If, like me, you are keen to spot an adder or two, then now’s the time to keep your eyes peeled when visiting sheltered moorland sites, our coast path and heathery heathlands. Good luck. (Oh, and watch your step.)