GOING TO BAT; FLYING MAMMALS GET A CHAMPION.

Byline: Deborah Sullivan Daily News Staff Writer

Chris Mashburn makes no secret of her affection for the world's only flying mammal.

There are the bat earrings that dangle amid her long, brown hair. And the T-shirt. The bat weather vane, and the numerous hand-painted works of bat art.

When she reaches under the collar of her T-shirt and withdraws a tiny, winged creature about the size of a brazil nut, it is evident she is, as her bumper sticker proclaims, ``batty about bats.''

``This is Milo,'' she says, gingerly dropping a mealworm into his tiny mouth.

Milo, who looks something like a microscopic Chihuahua with leathery wings, is a long-eared myotis, a species common to Southern California.

He is one of five California bats that reside with Mashburn, her son and her husband in their Ojai home. Mashburn, a naturalist for California State Parks, rehabilitates and releases 15 to 20 other bats a year.

But the five permanent pets, too badly injured to return to the wild, have become traveling public relations for the order Chiroptera, accompanying Mashburn on hundreds of lectures a year to schools, senior centers, Rotary clubs, conservation and farm groups.

``Nothing sells it more than people seeing the animal itself,'' she says. ``They're expecting big faces and fangs, and they're surprised when it's so cute.''

Weighs 7 grams

Indeed, Milo is curiously endearing, with his large, papery ears, soft brown fur and black eyes. Barely bigger than the first joint of a human thumb, he weighs a scant seven grams - about as much as seven paper clips.

Their surprising lovability may be bats' saving grace, Mashburn says, particularly if children grow up fascinated, instead of fearful, of the often maligned creatures.

Bats are losing habitat to urban development. They die of poisoning from eating insects sprayed with pesticide, are killed by the colony by those who loathe them and even, in Australia, are devoured as a delicacy, Mashburn says.

Of the 45 or so species in the United States, more than half are threatened or endangered, says Bob Benson, spokesman for Bat Conservation International.

``The future for bats is to get the kids of today - the adults of tomorrow - to want to save bats and save their environment,'' Mashburn says.

The crowd of rapt youngsters gathered recently at McGrath State Beach for Mashburn's Saturday night campfire talk suggests her strategy may work.

About 100 kids and parents cram onto benches facing a large slide-show screen. There is no actual campfire, as fire ``twitterpates'' bats, Mashburn explains.

Vast variety

Bats come in a vast array of shapes and colors, she tells the audience, while slides click behind her. There are orange, yellow, red, gray, white, brown, bluish and greenish bats, she says.

Bats with faces like donkeys, rabbits, chipmunks and gargoyles flash across the screen. Some, like the black-and-white spotted bat, found at Lake Piru and Yosemite, have ears like satellite dishes, the better to hear their own echolocation squeaks.

While bats were originally believed to be relatives of rodents, recent DNA tests place them closer to primates.

``Which makes them related to humans before they'd be related to rodents,'' Mashburn says.

The largest is a species of ``giant flying foxes'' from the island of Java that can reach a body length of 18 inches, with a six-foot wingspan. The smallest is the ``bumblebee bat'' of Thailand - the size of its namesake.

Only three species of bats drink blood, and two of those prey only on birds. The third drinks the blood of mammals - mainly cows.

``People all over the world are afraid of bats because of this one species of bat,'' Mashburn says. ``Is that power or what?''

In fact, however, that fear has made the bat a hated and hunted animal. What most people don't know, she says, is that most bats eat insects, helping control disease-carrying mosquitoes and crop-chomping pests.

Mosquito eater

Milo alone can eat 4,000 mosquitoes a night. Other bats eat beetles, crickets and moths.

``So all the things we spray for, they eat naturally,'' she says. ``The farmers in the Midwest that use bats for pest control don't have to use pesticides. It's actually more effective, because you can get immune to chemicals, but you can't get immune to getting eaten.''

Those bats that don't eat insects eat fruit. And they help pollinate it.

Mangoes, papayas, breadfruit, avocados and wild bananas are among the fruits pollinated by bats in the tropics, she says. Saguaro cactus, agave and some species of cholla in the American Southwest also rely on bats to reproduce.

In Australia, where bat pollination helps clear-cut patches of forest regenerate, signs are posted reading, ``Please don't eat the bats,'' she says.

Some species of bats rear their young cooperatively, leaving one adult to attend scores of youngsters while the other grown-ups go hunting. Adult pallid bats literally baby-sit, piling atop youngsters to warm and protect them.

Bats are superb aviators, able to fly with aerodynamic agility, Mashburn says. However, most cannot take off from the ground. Like tiny glider planes, they need a four- to six-foot drop-off for flight.

So, she tells the audience emphatically: If you see a bat crawling on the ground, you can save it by leaving it alone. Likewise, hibernating bats or colonies of young may be killed by human touch.

When the lecture is over, Milo emerges for his command performance, devouring a mealworm before dozens of bedazzled kids. Mashburn pulls out an echolocator, which transforms his high-pitched echolocation squeaks into tones low enough for the human ear to hear.

A fan of bats

Mary Beth Pongetti, 13, has attended the talk every year when her family and friends visit McGrath State Beach from Orange County. She wishes others could share what she has learned about bats.

``More people should hear about it,'' she said. ``A lot of people just don't know. Some of my friends hate bats. They need education.''

Mashburn made bats her specialty for precisely that reason. After hearing a ranger at Zion National Park describe them as ``the most hated animals in the world,'' in 1985, she studied up on them zealously.

``I couldn't figure out why anyone would hate them,'' she says. ``I was fascinated. I was totally hooked on these little creatures.''

She began giving presentations on bats, and soon people began delivering sick and wounded ones to care for.

Her employer, Supervising Ranger Kathy Dolinar, said her status as a naturalist allows her to handle and rehabilitate bats. However, the state Department of Fish and Game says a separate permit is required to release wild animals. Mashburn says she plans to pursue that permit.

Perhaps her biggest impact, though, comes through her public appearances with her furry, flying friends.

``If the public appreciates an animal, then it gets more funding for research and it gets a better chance of being protected,'' says Diana Simons, a biological technician for the U.S. Forest Service who studies bats in the four Southern California forests including Los Padres, and who has occasionally worked with Mashburn.

``Unfortunately, bats have a bad image, so anything that helps them be seen in a positive light by people will help them as a species.''

CAPTION(S):

3 Photos

Photo: (1-2--color in SIMI and CONEJO editions only) Chris Mashburn holds up Milo, her pet bat weighing only as much as seven paper clips.

(3) Chris Mashburn holds up Derby, a brown bat, in the bedroom of her home in Ojai.

Tina Gerson/Daily News