Endangered Frog Finds Hope in Whatcom County

After a long struggle, the endangered Oregon Spotted Frog was deemed extinct in many regions along the West Coast, including Whatcom County. With the help of wildlife scientists and enthusiasts, these frogs are now jumping back into the spotlight.

Photo by Stephen Nyman

Story by Meghan Fenwick

Nestled on a bank of the Samish River headwaters is a field of tall grass, some stalks standing six feet tall. The grass looks dry, brown and overgrown, save for a skinny trail that's been trampled by foot traffic. 

Strolling through the field on a sunny day, it’s easy to forget about the rain that the Pacific Northwest sees so consistently. It’s also hard to imagine that just around the bend is a safe haven for a rare, water-loving species of frog.

As the winding trail opens up, the field turns greener and becomes more diverse in topography. Each footstep begins to sound squishier, until eventually the ground is burping and bubbling under the pressure of a rain boot. 

“By the way, as you can see…” says Stephen Nyman, lead scientist of the Whatcom County Amphibian Monitoring Program (WCAMP). Wielding a long, skinny PVC pipe, Nyman skewers the pipe into grass to punctuate his point. About two feet of the five-foot pole stick out from the ground. “That's how deep the water is right here.”

Floating on the surface is a thick mat of entangled reed canary grass, a plant that cedes its territory only when humans carve out paths. Reed canary grass is an invasive species in Washington, known to outcompete other grasses just as it has at the WCAMP site. 

Centuries ago, European settlers with grazing livestock chose the grass for its ability to withstand wet conditions. This decision likely led to the dominance of reed canary grass at WCAMP’s site, which is bordered by abandoned irrigation ditches. 

On windy days, the reed canary grass falls over, smothering any other plants that dare to grow near it. After about a hundred years, the battered-down roots and decomposed plant blades have twisted together to form a thick mat that floats above the rainwater. This process allows Nyman to immerse himself in this wetland environment with ease, but it also blocks off an aquatic habitat that could mean life or death for native plants and animals. 

When there isn’t any wind rustling the grass blades, a chorus of soft knocking sounds fills the air. From a distance, one might suspect a nearby woodpecker. Nyman, however, recognizes the sound as the unique “ribbit” of the Oregon Spotted Frog.

The Oregon Spotted Frog (OSF) is considered endangered in Washington state and threatened at the federal level. Historically, the species has lived in Washington, Oregon, California and British Columbia. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFW), OSFs have lost an estimated 78% of their territory, due to habitat degradation as well as predation from fish and American bullfrogs. 

The frogs’ scientific name, Rana pretiosa, translates to “precious frog.” Teal Waterstrat, OSF species lead at USFW, describes them as an “indicator species,” meaning that the health of the population can point to the health of the larger ecosystem. OSFs play this role by being food for a variety of predators, including other frogs as well as birds and mammals such as otters and raccoons. 

“These few places where it still exists are so precious to us,” Waterstrat said. “There's a bit of an ownership and excitement about knowing that these are some of the very last places in the U.S. that these frogs still occur.”

OSFs were considered absent from Whatcom County by the scientific community, but in 2011, when Whatcom Land Trust purchased the site and established WCAMP to survey the county’s amphibian populations, they quickly discovered that despite the less-than-ideal conditions, Oregon Spotted Frogs had found a home here.

“As a conservation organization, we have a whole bunch of species that are declining,” Waterstrat said. “It takes community members like Stephen to highlight that need for us. They were always here, for sure. The scientific community was just not focused on them.”

On this cold fall afternoon, the frogs preferred to stay on the shallow edge of the pools. Overcast conditions meant that the water might have been slightly warmer than the grass. 

“She's been in that pool all day. She’s moved maybe three feet,” Nyman says, pointing to a frog with his pipe. “She's got chartreuse eyes. I can see that those are a little bit more greenish than some of the other ones.”

Even in the face of Nyman’s pipe, the frog didn’t move a muscle. Her olive skin blended in perfectly with the bottom of the pool.

OSFs are easy to identify in these regions, as they are one of only a few frog species in the state, as well as the only species at this particular site. Additionally, unlike other Washington frogs, OSFs have their eyes on top of their heads, directed to the skies so that the frogs are better able to detect and avoid great blue herons. In the summer, the frogs turn a lighter shade of brown, with dark spots forming distinct patterns on each individual frog.

The average onlooker might not be able to follow a specific frog from sunrise to sunset, but Nyman has been studying amphibians for almost 40 years. In 2013, he started helping WCAMP with surveys, and has been studying this population ever since. 

With a trained eye and a trusty camera, Nyman gathers information about the frogs and their habitat. By monitoring water depth, egg masses, and tadpole growth and success, WCAMP supports both on-site and statewide conservation efforts.

Many frogs become more terrestrial in their later life stages, but OSFs tend to remain extremely aquatic. From egg to tadpole to adulthood, they are rarely found away from shallow, permanent water sources. Eggs take between two and four weeks to hatch, and tadpoles take three to four months to metamorphose (grow into frog). These stages make up a significant portion of the frogs’ short lives. As adults, they breed and lay eggs in shallow water, only leaving shore to bask in the sun or to catch a quick bite to eat. 

“If it dries out, they die,” Nyman says. “They're really dependent on there being water. If they make the wrong choice about where to spend the summer, it may be too late to move somewhere else because they would have to go over land to find another pool.”

For this reason, OSFs have historically lived in wetlands and river floodplains where shallow water remains year-round. Over time, humans have developed this habitat for homes, businesses and agriculture. Not only does such development dry up wetlands, it also separates and fragments them, leaving the frogs without corridors by which they can move from one habitat to another.

In other regions, the greatest threat to the OSF may be the infamous American bullfrog. Fortunately, these invasive “bullies,” as Nyman describes them, haven’t yet found their way to the WCAMP site. Nyman’s OSF population has persisted through its fair share of setbacks, however.

“This frog tells a great story of these wetter, bigger watershed footprints and valley bottoms that we don't really have anymore,” Waterstrat said. “Where [OSFs] are remaining is a lot of agricultural lands that are doing management activities like grazing or haying to keep some of that invasive species down.”

Each summer, after the tadpoles sprout legs, WCAMP recruits volunteers to fight back against the reed canary. Equipped with hand saws and small plastic sleds, the volunteers carve pools out of the floating mat and haul them away. 

Nyman has a long-term vision for this channel of pools that began with Pool A in 2016 and runs all the way up to Pool H, which opened this year. Most summers, only one pool will be cut out. After carving out a square foot of reed canary, volunteers pile the blocks onto the shore to dry them out. Once the blocks lose some of their water weight, volunteers will then drag them away on plastic sleds.

“It’s a good workout. The first time I went, we were there all day, if I remember correctly, from nine to three,” said recurring volunteer Candice Trusty. “I could see [people not being] able to last that long, because it's very labor intensive.”

Trusty first volunteered with WCAMP in 2017 when she was still a student at Western Washington University. Since then, she has returned every summer to help with surveys and habitat restoration. 

“It's just fun to get out there,” Trusty said. “Not only the OSF restoration work, but all of the amphibian monitoring projects, you get to see these animals, especially the OSF, that you wouldn't get an opportunity to see otherwise.”

On her first site visit, Trusty was surprised to see just how “chill” the OSFs were in her presence. As she took a saw to their habitat, the frogs would sit beside her, unbothered. Trusty and her fellow volunteers have to be cautious. Nyman briefs them before leading them to the work site, ensuring that their clothes and gear are clean before they come into contact with frog habitat. OSFs breathe through their skin, and can absorb substances they come into contact with. Touching an OSF with dry, dirty hands is like handling human lungs, Trusty noted.

Nyman is permitted by USFW to handle the frogs, but the volunteers do not share that privilege, and that goes doubly for the general public. Waterstrat recommends avoiding contact at all costs. If you spot an OSF on a nature walk, photography is a great way to observe and interact with them. You can also reach out to USFW for help identifying OSFs, particularly if you think they might be living on your property. The next best way to get involved, according to Waterstrat, is through local wildlife programs like WCAMP. 

Aside from state wildlife refuges, the remaining OSFs are likely to be on private property. With landowners’ permission, USFW can conduct surveys and restore habitats at these sites. Sometimes, that means weeding out the invasive species, much like the reed canary war at WCAMP’s Samish River site. Some landowners feel overwhelmed to learn that a rare, sensitive species lives on their property. Part of Waterstrat’s job is to balance the needs of communities and individuals alongside the needs of the OSF population.

“They get some free lawn mowing out of it; we get conservation out of it. We have some really enthusiastic landowners that are doing pretty amazing things,” Waterstrat said. “I want people to know that if they see OSFs in a location, what they're doing is probably right for the frogs.”

After studying this population for years, Nyman tried creating a pool, and it worked. Now retired from his day job, Nyman has even more time to dedicate to this project, but he knows he can’t do it forever. He hopes to gather more labor and funding to be able to speed up the process and establish closer to five pools in one summer. 

While OSFs may have specific needs, they can be crafty and take advantage of opportunities when presented. The WCAMP site is one example of an opportunity, both for OSFs and for nature lovers looking to make a difference. Here, the question is not what to do for the OSFs, but when it can be done. 

“Nyman is just busting his butt to try to create as much habitat as possible for them so that we don't lose them,” said Trusty. “But it’s very rewarding to go out there and see the work that you did. By the end, you see their habitat expanding right in front of your eyes.”