[pct-l] Rattlesnakes... tasty, tasty, rattlesnakes.

[Paint Your Wagon]

Another slow day at the command and control center of thru hike 2015-
There I was... 
daydreaming about another tasty rattlesnake sandwich. 
What???
In 2012, 
I encountered 10 rattlesnakes in my march north, 
covering all of 775 miles. 
I encountered green, 
brown, 
black, 
speckled, 
and red rattlesnakes.

A red rattlesnake was coiled on the trail just before Scissors Crossing. 
The trail tread was muted in color, 
save for the small stretch of red gravel of approximately 30 feet in length, 
which I encountered in my haste to reach the highway leading into the mountain town of Julian. 
Remarkably, 
a red rattlesnake sat motionless, 
coiled squarely in the center of the trail of this small stretch of reddish tread. 
I planted a hiking pole within 18 inches of the serpent, 
eliciting a customary hiss and rattle. 
Only because of this disturbance that occurred at my feet, 
did I recognize said trail companion. 
To say that I was engrossed in my thoughts prior to said encounter, 
would be a gross understatement. 
Thankfully, 
my hiking pole provided the needed distraction to gain a millisecond, 
in reacting to Mr. Rattlesnake. 
I diverted to the left, 
never missing a stride, 
but came under intense self criticism for gross inattention, 
which nearly cost me a trip to the ER. 
Lesson learned. (bout’ got a spankin’ right there)

Up trail, 
a green Mojave was poking it’s head out of a bush adjoining the trail. 
This was between Warner Springs mile # 110, 
and Chihuahua Valley Rd. mile # 127 (trail angel Mike Herrerra’s house.) 
I saw the snake at the instant that I passed by it, 
coming within about a foot of the serpent’s head. 
Thankfully, 
the snake was stretched out (vulnerable) and pulled it’s head back into the chaparral. 
The snake then turned parallel to the trail, 
following a downed log that was also parallel to the trail, 
then aggressively turned back towards the trail as if it were headed for me. 
This all happened in about 2-3 strides. 
I turned to my right to see the snake heading back towards me, 
using the log for a base of leverage, 
in order to close ranks with me. 
I saw this as an outright aggressive/threatening move, 
and whacked the log on both sides of the snake with my hiking poles, 
sending the snake an equally threatening message- 
right back at ya’, 
saying that I was about to alter it’s world forever. 
Well what do you know, 
the snake got the message and retreated. 
This was the most aggressive encounter I ever had with a snake that I really wasn’t toying, 
screwing, 
teasing, 
or engaging with...  

Somewhere (NOBO) under Mt San Jacinto, 
a rattlesnake made a daring choice and crossed the trail in front of myself and my hiking partner, 
at nearly the same time as we did. 
It appeared to be a green Mojave, 
crossing within a hiker pole’s length in distance.

Another encounter with a red rattlesnake occurred just under Apache Peak.
A juvenile red had killed one of those lizards with a brilliant blue and white underside, 
and was centered squarely on the trail. 
I took my hiking pole and flicked it and it’s meal to the side of the trail, 
permitting passage without any undue risk. 

Crossing the desert between the Snow Creek faucet and the I-10 Interstate, 
lies a 5 mile desert section. 
It was here that a black/green or speckled rattler was encountered. 
Just off the trail- 
a pole length, 
was spotted a snake caught in the open- 
stretched out to it’s full body length, 
and quite vulnerable. 
Their only defense is to freeze in the hope that they won’t be seen. 
Well, 
they are dumber than dirt, 
so of course they are spotted by humans (at least.) 
In this case, 
there was no need to interact with the snake and I just enjoyed the encounter however briefly, 
then moved on.   

I encountered another red rattlesnake, 
stretched out across the trail, 
just before descending down into the Mission Creek corridor. 
I rolled a small rock into it, 
eliciting zero reaction. 
As the snake remained frozen, 
I, 
undeterred, 
rolled a larger rock at greater force into the snake, 
convincing it to move off the trail. 
I continued downhill, 
taking refuge in the shade of several tall cottonwood trees aligning Mission Creek’s banks. 
15 minutes passed and out of nowhere came a “rebel” yell. 
Yeehaw- 
resounded throughout the canyon walls, 
as my hiking partner’s silhouette stood out on the trail far above my position. 
In his hand hung a snake, 
which turned out to be the unfortunate fella that I shoo shooed off the trail earlier. 
It seems Mr. Rattlesnake had suffered great misfortune by returning to the trail a bit prematurely, 
and my hiking companion dealt Mr. Rattlesnake a fatal blow. 
Well, 
you kill it- 
you it eat, 
or so goes the old saw. 
My companion, 
an Army Major, 
Afghanistan veteran, 
certified osteopath doctor, 
veteran AT hiker, 
and survival school graduate of a prestigious east coast variant, 
proceeded to gut said snake. 
I got recruited into helping dress out the animal (reluctantly.) 
A roaring fire was built, 
adding fist sized rocks for heating up and later use, 
then Cottonwood leaves were collected to wrap and cook the snake meat in, 
once the fire burned down. 
Unfortunately, 
my companion rushed the cooking and pulled the snake meat out of the fire prematurely. 
The meat was uncooked, 
tasting like what our hands smelled like after gutting the snake. 
My friend, 
just about lost it. 
I advised him to cook the meat another 30 minutes. 
This did the trick and we used some wheat bread, 
garlic salt and olive oil, 
to build us a couple of tasty sandwiches. 
My friend fell into a spell of regret, 
vowing not to repeat what he had done on this day. 
As an observer, 
it was interesting to view human nature in action, 
aside from the tasty, 
tasty rattlesnake that we ate. 
Yes! 
It tasted like chicken... 
and fish- 
combined.

In Cooper Canyon, 
I just about stepped on a coiled black rattlesnake. 
I managed to take a few pictures, 
having kept my frame of mind.

Less than a mile later, 
and now on an asphalt road of some kind, 
I encountered another black snake, 
this time stretched out and stuck with the only strategy at hand- 
freezing in place. 
In my haste to take a picture, 
and fumbling with getting the camera out, 
the snake managed to escape into a bush. 
I tossed a few rocks it’s way, 
trying to flush it out, 
but only managed to help harden it’s position, 
which was one of survival, 
leading to an “aint' going to budge,” 
attitude.

One other memorable encounter of a rattler was just south of Kennedy Meadows. 
The snake was caught outright in the open fleeing at my approach. 
I toyed with it, 
prodding the snake with my hiker pole, 
causing it to coil. 
This gave it a chance to defend itself, 
and for me, 
the opportunity to photograph it, 
without the need for further hassle. 
I returned to Kennedy Meadows, 
as there was an annual music festival underway. 
Ironically, 
I encountered a man standing at the tailgate of a pickup, 
without one hand, 
holding up a rattlesnake without a head.

Well, 
that’s 9 stories about my snake encounters in 2012. 
For the likes of me, 
I cannot conjure up a memory of serpent story # 10.

In 2013, 
having skipped miles 210 to 702, 
I encountered just 2 rattlesnakes.

I only recall 2 rattlesnakes encountered in 2014, 
although I hiked from the border to Mammoth Lakes. 
I have to attribute the severe drought as taking a toll on the food chain, 
and is largely why most animals sighted in 2012, 
were far and few between in 2014.  

While not the least bit original-
that’s all folks.

PaintYW

 http://www.californiaherps.com/info/herpinglaws.html