Typically, from early April to the end of June, you'll find me equipped with polarized sunglasses, field notebook, binoculars, thermometer, meter stick, water current meter, underwater and over water HD video cameras, and the patience of a saint to film the breeding behaviors of the pebble nest building fishes, commonly called chubs, in Virginia. Virginia is fortunate to be home to eight of the 13 pebble-mound building chub species (genera Exoglossum, Nocomis, and Semotilus), all of which are restricted geographically in their respective native ranges in eastern and central North America. Virginia is also home to one of seven pit-digging species (genus Campostoma), also native to the continent.
It is already six weeks into the 12-week spawning season of the chubs, and I am beyond antsy... and I know why...the fishes are out there doing their thing, while I am confined here at home. I would much rather be walking along and in streams, climbing over fallen trees, and hopping rocks in streams in search of active chub nests to film rather than my daily exercising walks in the neighborhood. With the highly infectious Covid-19 virus ever present, social distancing mandates, and my own personal safety concerns as well as those for others, it is difficult to watch "good" weather pass by day after day, week after week, without living in the field, driving thousands of miles over the course of 12 weeks (last year driving exceeded 5,800 miles) in search of clear streams where conditions such as water current and temperature, suitable substrates for nest construction, tree canopy, and sediment load are optimum for filming the unique nest-building and mesmerizing spawning behaviors of these marvelous chubs... not to mention foregoing my home packed Spartan lunches for the off the beaten path delicious foods like the surprisingly crispy, yet juicy fried chicken at the Wolftown Mercantile Country Store in Wolftown, VA (I'm sure they soaked the chicken in salt water before deep frying (but what the hell... what's a little extra sodium once in a blue moon); the shockingly tasty barbeque (and vinegar based spicy sauce) and home fries at Gertie's Country Store in Vesuvius, VA; the mouthwatering, grilled, thick T-bone pork chop, lightly sautéed broccoli, and red potatoes at Hollywood Restaurant & Bakery just North of Roanoke, VA - but wait, then there's their selection of four different kinds of brownies (oh, I'm stuffed)(I don't think any of those brownies that I phoned my wife about ever made it home); and the pulled barbeque at the Barbeque Exchange in Gordonsville, VA (get there early unless you want to wait in a seemingly never ending line of what appears to be the entire population of 1,591 citizens of this small town).
All I can do at this point is to review the five TB of HD video of the breeding behaviors of these pebble mound nest-building chubs and their nest associates (other brightly colored fishes that congregate over nests to eat eggs or spawn) filmed over the past four years – all catalogued in a spreadsheet by species, date, location, county, lat/long, time code, and specific activity, and compare them to the punctilious descriptions of all of their behaviors we published in scores of publications since 1988.
When I'm in the field, I hardly see another soul in streams where I go. Although tempted this year to just GO as I know I would be the only person in the streams, I stop. I know that having to interact with people to get gasoline, food, lodging, supplies, etc. would put me and others potentially at risk of contracting Covid-19... a risk I do not want to take.
Next Year in Virginia.
Eugene
*After seeing the film, Dances with Wolves, my late, dear colleague, Dr. William S. Woolcott at University of Richmond, and some of our undergraduate and graduate students, who researched various aspects of breeding behaviors of chubs, began calling me Dances with Chubs. They coined this nickname while sitting in the research vehicle and watching me, sure-footedly hopping rocks in a stream to prevent my feet from getting wet while searching for active chub nests. As Stan Lee would said, “Nuff said.”