Black Death and Tunnels of Love

Welcome to the first of what I hope will be many guest bloggers! Today, the Honorable Learned Knee Cap shares a bit of his wisdom and dispels a few or the more significant worries we face at SLS.

With classes for next quarter to be chosen, finals rolling closer and summer job hunts still on-going, I thought it might be nice to eliminate a couple of worries I had heard voiced this week in our class. A few less worries always makes it easier to focus on matters at hand. So let me put your mind at ease in regard to two matters - the danger of bubonic plague from campus squirrels and the need to avoid salamanders when driving down Junipero Serra Blvd.

If you all are like me, you might have found something off-putting about the fearless squirrels all over campus, squirrels that seem to perversely enjoy a good game of chicken with bikers. But aside from a few near-crashes, I hadn't worried too much about the danger from our rodent neighbors until this week when I was told that interaction with them carried the peril of the Black Death (interesting what comes up in Con Law review sessions).

Now, likely nothing inhibits studying like a case of the Bubonic Plaque. So, with finals coming, I was a bit worried about the prospect of living out my childhood games of Ring Around the Rosy. But an in-depth exploration of available literature and consultation with campus authorities has confirmed that though plaque was found in a squirrel in Los Angeles County this summer, likely sparking rumors about our own whiskered co-tenants here at Stanford, no plaque squirrels have ever been detected on our campus, even among those menacing-looking black squirrels.

So next time someone tells you that a die-off of one-quarter to one-third of campus is imminent from a squirrel-initiated outbreak, you tell them that that is only true for campuses in Los Angeles County and southward.

For those of you working down in SoCal this summer, may God have mercy of your souls.

As for the danger of salamanders on Junipero Serra Blvd, I had long heard rumors that the much of campus development west of Lake Lagunita had been determined/restricted by an unseen, but nevertheless precious, amphibian called the California Tiger salamander. That is apparently completely true.

These endangered/vulnerable salamanders were thought to be extinct in this area until a 1994 summer rainstorm prompted hundreds of them to rise Lazarus-like from the squirrel burrows where they hibernate in dry times and head for the mud of Lake Lagunita to lay their eggs. Apparently, this summer resurrection developed into a salamander tragedy as the amphibians attempted to crawl from the foothills beneath the Dish to Lake Lagunita, transecting (often quite unsuccessfully) Junipero Serra Blvd. The massacre only came to an end with a rush of Stanford volunteers who lovingly carried each salamander across the road to safety and to the enjoyable process of combating extinction.

But before you rush to change your summer plans, as I was tempted to do, so you might aid in the salamander crossing, you should rest assured that this brand of civic activism is no longer needed. The great minds of Stanford University, when faced with such a compelling problem, overcame the challenge with what might be known as tunnels of love for the little Tigers. Several tunnels now pass beneath (and salamander-size rises restrict the direct route across) Junipero Serra and if you ever are headed towards the Dish for a run, you might enjoy pausing for a moment to see what has been accomplished to further Homo sapien-Ambystoma californiense understanding.

Nevertheless, if you are coming back from the Dish and you see a salamander on the road, don't be afraid to do your part - at SLS we apparently brake for salamanders. 

So there you have it, two less things to worry about. Now on to finals!

---Hon. Learned Knee Cap