The tarantula: grace on eight legs

The dogs and I were hiking up Lake Pueblo’s Skull Canyon trail earlier this week when Rafa ran up to a tarantula perched atop a rock. Before I realized it, my 60-pound dog was nose-to-fang with a 2-ounce hairy arachnid. I quickly pulled him away before any clash went down, preventing certain death to the tarantula, and a trip to the vet for Rafa.

It wasn’t long before the spider, about as big as my cupped hand, got back to the task at hand: hitting the trail to look for love. Male tarantulas (I think this one was a Colorado chocolate brown) of a certain age seek out mates this time of year.

That makes autumn an excellent time to spot tarantulas at the park, although it’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen one there. Actually, fall’s the best time of year to spot them throughout southern Colorado.

I like watching these huge spiders move, coordinating those eight legs, moving nimbly over the ground. And the tarantula’s size only amplifies its stride (as does slow motion). I wouldn’t say they move with the grace of a ballerina, but I do I find their gait graceful. And powerful. I watched as  it navigated the rocky, weedy terrain with the deftness of an off-road 4WD.