rattlesnake diaries; part deux

Ok, so here is what I did. I started a really long blog and have avoided finishing because of the length. I have wanted to blog since, but I had that feeling that you get when you don’t have your homework done before class. You can't just go to class without your homework. So I just ignored it. But it is time to do the dang thing:

yes, I killed rattlesnakes. For one, it made me feel like I was in a john Wayne movie. And two, it just made sense. Since posting the first part of the story, a few people have said to me "how could you kill a snake? They are beautiful creatures. I have pet snakes and I let them wrap their python like scales around my neck and squeeze. It’s like a cold-blooded hug". I say to that: you have serious issues and I am praying for your salvation.


So, in late June I started working on Sweetwater creek, in the southwest corner of Natrona County. It ran beside the rattlesnake mountain range, and was really beautiful. For you Oregon Trail fans, independence rock was in sight as the "crick" ran beside it. This was a private ranch, and was one of the largest and oldest ranches in Wyoming. Recently, the Mormon Church bought the property because this was where the Mormon trail separated from the Oregon Trail. The Mormons would come out and reenact their trip west; complete with costumes, hand carts, and camp sites (this event deserves its own blog; or maybe multiple blogs).

This is what it looks like from the air.

And this is what it looks like from the ground.

As you can tell, there is a distinct difference between the areas close to the water versus the vegetation far from the water. Therefore, the majority of the wildlife lives near the water. It was truly a vivid description of the food chain; from the plants to the bugs, the bugs to the birds and rodents, and from the rodents to the rattlesnakes. The vegetation changed in height; from about knee high to chest high. The weed we were after was the tallest plant, so it was easy to see from afar. However, the grass was so dense that you had no clue what you were going to step on. This was a common sight:

The fawns are taught to stay low in hopes that a predator won't see them, and then the mother runs away, attracting the predator from the baby. So then the wolf/coyote runs after the mom. Pretty cool example of sacrificial love.

Anyways, when given the choice, I would walk in the shorter grass. Just the name Rattlesnake Mountains gave me the chills, but the cowboy who worked with us said "this is the only place I would wear snake chaps." So, once again, I am on guard.

After getting wet, the rattles on the rattlesnakes are silenced. Also, they don't rattle when it is cold or windy. And they don't really move a lot when it is cold or windy. On this particular day, the wind was blowing about 50 mph. I was walking along the shorter grass, finding the weeds, and blazing a trail to them. I was on a stretch that did not have any weeds or grass for that matter, and I was walking fast, with my head down. As I went to take a step, all the sudden I see a rattlesnake coiled up right below my foot. Before I had time to react, it struck, biting the bottom of my boot.

Now that made me mad. I mean, give me a rattle or get out of my way. I decided to make an example out of this rogue serpent by killing it and displaying its skin on my 4 wheeler. So I began to try to hit it with my sprayer wand; the cowboy way. With each attempted strike I made, the snake matched me, coming closer and closer to my hand each time. I looked around to see if there was anything I could use as a weapon and I found a driftwood log; it was about 4 ft. in length and I couldn't wrap my hands all the way around it. It was also fragile, so I couldn't use it as a bat. So I decided I would make jabs at the snake. I began to jab, with my hands in the middle of the log for balance. Then, the snake pulled a rope-a-dope, dodged my strike and made a strike of its own. This happened so fast that my only reaction was to pull my hands, log attached, back towards my body as fast as possible.

Now, when you push the end of a log into your face as hard as you can, your body reacts in funny ways. First comes the blood. I hit myself just above the right eye, and all the sudden I saw red dripping into my eye and face. The second reaction I had was that blurry, fuzzy thing you get from head injuries. At first it was like glitter, then more like fog. During the fog part, my body was saying "Ok, time to lay down Matt. It will be ok, the ground is soft". But my head was saying "You are about to get eaten by a rattlesnake. It will be like one of those National Geographic movies where the snake eats the elephant. You know, their jaws expand when they eat and you are a skinny kid". I was able to will myself back to the real world, and I killed the snake as it was in retreat. I spent 30 minutes skinning it and preparing the rattles; I called myself Trace for the rest of the day. All my friends I worked with made fun of me, and they still do. I almost got taken down by a 4 ft. snake.