“Let’s go to La Junta, Colorado, for their Tarantula Fest!” is what no sane person should exclaim. But I did because I’m terrified of spiders. I don’t want to be, but I am. I’d hoped that the inspiring journey of a beast continuing its species would help build a more rational reaction to the eight-legged scourges of scurry.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
Despite shuddering like a baby man merely thinking about tarantulas, I’ll admit that they’re amazing.
Nature is both gruesome and inspiring, and I can’t think of a better example of the horrific splendor that surrounds us than the consummation of spiders on the prairie.
I love you spiders. I hate you spiders.
Before I get tangled in the silken web of our love story, it should be noted that this year’s Tarantula Fest is September 25 and 26th in La Junta. It has a parade, festivities, movie screenings, spider experts, informative and patient locals, and, of course, spiders.
But let’s be brave and saddle up. We’re going on the miles-long journey a male tarantula takes to play a role in their terrifying love-making process. To entice you into my descriptive lair, I’ll let you know one of the craziest animal facts in all of the kingdom: to avoid being killed during the fertilization process, the male spider has developed hooks on his front legs to keep the female’s fangs from impaling him.
This Tarantula Fest map could be easily confused with a map depicting the progression of the end of the world. (Photo submitted)
To say the females are dominant in the spider kingdom is an understatement. They can live up to thirty-five (compared to the male’s ten) years, and they don’t mind killing and eating the father of their children. Honestly, it makes sense. Otherwise it’s a lifetime of a husband prattling on about how many miles he had to walk uphill, etc. If the male is not eaten, it will die shortly after the tryst from old age and exhaustion. He may also suffer from the little dance he has to do to entice the female.
What? You didn’t know that tarantula’s dance? I’m sorry that you’re not as romantic as a spider.
After journeying up to ten miles through the semi-arid loneliness of the Colorado plains, the male uses his pedipalps (the little arm-like extensions next to their mouths because apparently they don’t have enough things growing out of them) to drum out a rhythmic beat to get the female to emerge from her silk-covered cave. If the male is bad at this, he will die.
Harsh, yes, but again, totally makes sense. Not sure if you’ve ever had a neighbor who thought they could play an instrument. Would you want to have children with them?
Have we finished the journey? Nope. Unfortunately, I must tell you about the tarantula hawk.
I didn’t forget to tell you about the tarantula hawk. I just didn’t want to. This particular wasp is one of the largest on record (up to two inches long), and the female (much like her tarantula sister) is the boss. Her sting has been gauged as one of the most painful in the world, and somehow that’s the most palatable part about what I’m going to tell you. She hunts male tarantulas. Some road-tripping arachnid brainstorming the perfect love song gets bitten, and it’s over. The female tarantula hawk has no time for drum solos and paralyzes the dude before laying her eggs (Ha! Who’s left to care for babies now!) inside the dude.
It gets worse.
The eggs will hatch, and the larvae eat the still-living-but-paralyzed spider, sparing the vital organs to maintain the freshness of the food. It’s the kind of madness I want to shout at passing strangers who might otherwise think things are normal.
Assuming the male gets through all of that, he then must hope that participants of Tarantula Fest don’t run over him, or capture him, or somehow thoughtlessly impede the journey of the male tarantula across Colorado and into our hearts.
I shuddered again. I want to like them. I really do. In the video you’ll see my attempt at being a better person. While I may fall short, at least I’ve witnessed greatness and can share the tale of those sturdy kings who make the trek.
As a final footnote on female superiority, it should be known that female tarantulas live far longer than the male and can be fertilized and/or fed by multiple suitors. Long live the queen, literally.
But don’t linger. If the kids hang out beyond a few weeks, she’ll eat them too.
The post Did You Know Thousands of Tarantulas Trek Across Colorado Each Year? appeared first on The Daily Yonder.
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