Rattlesnakes… Lots of Them: Eek!

The eastern diamondback rattlesnake has been known to grow almost eight feet long.

I’ve have been to Albuquerque, New Mexico several times over the years. One place that I always wanted to go but never managed to was the American International Rattlesnake Museum. They have one of the largest collections of live rattlesnakes in the world. Could it be that whoever I was traveling with didn’t share my enthusiasm?

Peggy, however, is game for almost anything and snake images almost always show up among the petroglyphs that fascinate her so much. So off we went to the museum two weeks ago. 

Peggy even bought a rattlesnake T-shirt from the museum. Is there a message here?

That I have a certain ‘fondness’ for rattlesnakes isn’t news to my blog followers. I’ve had numerous encounters with them over the years and have written about several. I’ve even been known to get down on my stomach when they are crawling toward me so I can get better head shots. (Peggy gets a little ouchy about that.) I suspect my attitude would be considerably different if I’d ever been bitten by one. Rattlesnake bites can be deadly, or at a minimum, extremely painful. It’s not something one wants to test. 

Fortunately, rattlesnakes come with an early warning system. They rattle. The rattles are made up of keratin, that’s the same thing your fingernails are made of. When irritated, the snake vibrates its tail, knocking its rattles together. It makes a very distinctive sound, one you never forget, one guaranteed to shoot your heart rate up faster that a skyrocket on the 4th of July.

Each time a rattlesnake sheds its skin in grows a new rattle. This makes up for ones it has lost. The bigger the snake the bigger the rattle.
The Ancestral Puebloans included a rattle on this petroglyph of a rattlesnake in Petroglyph National Monument, Albuquerque. It’s probably a coyote or a dog beneath the rattler, obviously not worried.

A rattlesnake you see coiled up, rattling its tail, and ready to strike is worrisome, to put it mildly. It’s not a problem, however— as long as you stay clear of its strike zone, which can range from half to two thirds of its body length. For a six foot snake (which is a very big snake), that would be from 3 to 4 feet. If you want to check this out, use a long stick. I have. (Don’t try this at home, kids.)

One you can hear but can’t see is a quantum leap scarier. I stepped on a dead log once ‘that started to rattle’ and found myself an olympic winning 15 feet down the trail before my mind registered snake. There is some evidence that our fear of snakes is instinctive. For example, have you ever come close to stepping on one you didn’t see in advance. Did you find yourself thinking, “snake, maybe I should be concerned.”

Odds are your reaction was more like this guy from another petroglyph at Petroglyph National Monument. Eek!

When I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in West Africa, I had a cat named Rasputin that proved the hypothesis about fear of snakes. I discovered if I took the old fashioned spring off my back door and rolled it toward him, he would leap 6 feet into the air and land on our couch or other piece of furniture well out of reach from the deadly ’snake.’ Being scientifically oriented, I did it 3 or 4 times just to make sure. 

On the other hand, back in California I had a basset hound named Socrates that seemed to counter the theory. I was hiking with him one day at Folsom Lake near Sacramento when I noticed him walk out on to a granite ledge and start sniffing down into the cracks. Suddenly he began barking like the baying hound he was: Loud. Simultaneously, the rock became alive with rattles. Socrates had discovered a rattlesnake den. They can get big, big like in a hundred snakes. Some have even been found with a thousand. Talk about an Indiana Jones’ nightmare…

It was for me, as well. “Socrates, come here!” I demanded. And then again. And again. Each time louder and more desperate. All, to no avail. He just kept barking louder. Damn, that dog could be stubborn. Finally, there was nothing I could do but walk out on the buzzing rock, grab him by the collar, and bodily drag him off. I was lucky I didn’t pee my pants. Had I not immediately put his leash on and pulled him away, he would have gone right back to barking up a storm at the irritated, poisonous serpents.

Here are a few facts on rattlers: 

  • There are between 32 and 45 species of rattlesnakes, many of which live in the Southwest where Peggy and I just spent five months wandering around outside. They can range in size from 15-24 inches like the pigmy rattlesnake of the South up to close to 8 feet like the eastern diamond back. Peggy’s brother John and his wife Frances found one of these monsters in their backyard in Texas. 
  • They are superb predators. While lacking an outer ear that would allow them to hear their prey, they have an inner ear that allows them to sense the vibrations of a prey’s movements. Vertical pupils aid in depth perception for strikes and pits on the side of their faces serve as heat detectors which allow rattlers to see their prey in pitch dark situations. Being members of the pit viper family they have large, sharp, hollow fangs that are designed to deliver venom. The fangs fold back against the rattlesnake’s mouth when not in use.
  • And finally, here’s a long word for you to impress your friends with: ovoviviparous. It means the rattlesnake mommy hatches her eggs inside of her body and her babies are born alive, ready for action as soon as they can bite their way out of the protective sack they are born in.

And now for a few of the photos we took at the museum.

The museum had a book of Gahan Wilson cartoons on snakes.
One way to recognize a rattlesnake, beside the obvious rattles, is by the distinctive shape of its head, which it shares with other pit vipers.
Okay, a bit scary.
Beautiful brown.
Coiled and ready.
Note the vertical pupils.
Moving along.

Plus a couple of snakes that weren’t rattlers, but we were fascinated by their colors.

An albino milk snake.
And this striking green snake which, as I remember, was a python. (Don’t quote me.)
And finally, Peggy and I in front of the museum, which is located in the historic section of Albuquerque. Not sure why they chose the skull and string of peppers instead of a rattlesnake but they are symbols of New Mexico. Next up, we will conclude our posts on Canyon de Chelly National Monument.

Home Invasion Part II— When a Rattlesnake Comes to Visit

Each boy has his own trail on our five acres. And each trail is substantially different. Ethan's trail incorporates a spring. Ethan is standing next to the sign with his brother Cody.

Each boy has his own trail on our five acres. And each trail is substantially different. Ethan’s trail incorporates a spring. Ethan is standing next to the sign with his brother Cody.

This is a continuation of my previous blog.

I had a major task before the boys showed up: finish the hiking trails that cut back and forth across our five acres of forested property. It seriously resembled work. I ended up using my weed whacker, leaf blower, tree pruning shears, rake and a mattock. For those of you who don’t know what a mattock is, think really heavy hoe combined with a pick. The last time I had used one I was 18, fighting a forest fire in Northern California over terrain that was so steep that I had to hold on to brush with one hand while I chopped a fire trail with the other. Although I didn’t have a fiery inferno rushing down on me for inspiration, the hill I cut a trail across for the boys was equally steep. And, news flash, I am no longer 18. Peggy came out of the house frequently to look down the slope and make sure I was still alive.

Each boy ended up with his own unique trail with a special sign made by Peggy. There were Chris’s Mountain Trail, Ethan’s Hidden Springs Trail, Cody’s Bear Trail (it is the actual trail the bear uses when he comes in to check out our garbage can), and Connor’s Jungle Trail (chopped out through vines and blackberries). The two-year-old Cooper was too young for a trail, so I made him a secluded nook under some tall brush that could also accommodate his brothers and cousins: Cooper’s Hide-a-Way. When we took the boys down to check it out, a momma deer and her two fawns had adopted the hideout and were happily ensconced on the outdoor carpet I had put down.

I warned the boys to watch out for rattlesnakes since our neighborhood seemed to have an infestation of them over the summer.

I warned the boys to watch out for rattlesnakes since our neighborhood seemed to have an infestation of them over the summer. Peggy took this photo of a rattler in the spring when we were traveling through Death Valley.

The boys got a lecture before venturing out on their own. “This is what poison oak looks like. Watch out for rattlesnakes. If you go off the trails, your socks will be filled with burrs and the burrs will get in your underwear.” I added the latter for emphasis. And it is true; somehow doing the laundry automatically transfers burrs to places you definitely don’t want them— believe me. (Of course the boys went off of the trails.) As for rattlesnakes, I had to dispatch one with my mattock next to the water gun filling station at the side of our house the day before the boys showed up. It was a Diamond Back about three-feet long with ten rattles. Normally I would have just shooed it off, but I worried it might come back. “Look, Grandpa, a snake! Can we catch it?” (Our grandson Ethan is an expert at rounding up lizards. Why not snakes?)

There wasn’t a second of down time for the whole three weeks. There were games to play, swimming holes to explore, and must-see places to visit, such as the Railroad Park in Medford. In the middle of all of this, Peggy went paragliding and jumped off of a local mountain to celebrate her 65th birthday. Talk about a role model. Our daughter and son joined her. It was my responsibility to take photographs and survive. Can you imagine how warped the boys would be if I were put in charge of raising them?

Everyone climbed on the train at the Medford Railroad Park.

Everyone climbed on the train at the Medford Railroad Park. Our daughter-in-law Cammie is number five in the row. Tony is behind her holding Cooper.

Cooper proudly displays his Spider face paint he picked up when we visited the Civil War reenactment camp. The boys were quite excited to see cannons fired.

Cooper proudly displays his Spider face paint he picked up when we visited the Civil War reenactment camp. The boys were quite excited to see cannons fired.

As you might imagine, the boys found burying dad in rocks, as Connor is doing here, to be quite amusing.

As you might imagine, the boys found burying dad in rocks, as Connor is doing here, to be quite amusing.

Chris found hanging out in a hammock with Grandpa and sharing secrets to be quite entertaining until the wasp stung Grandpa. Some new word were learned.

Chris found hanging out in a hammock with Grandpa and sharing secrets to be quite entertaining until the wasp stung Grandpa. Some new words were learned.

Missy the Deer made out like a bandit as soon as the boys— and Dad, Clay— discovered that she like to eat apples. Several times each day we would hear, "Missy is outside wanting an apple." Of course she was. Missy recognizes a soft touch when she sees one.

Missy the Deer made out like a bandit as soon as the boys— and Dad, Clay— discovered that she like to eat apples. Several times each day we would hear, “Missy is outside wanting an apple.” Of course she was. Missy recognizes a soft touch when she sees one.

One evening we enjoyed an incredible sunset (this is not photoshopped) followed by a thunderstorm, which is never welcome in the summer due to the danger from fires.

One evening we enjoyed an incredible sunset (this is not photoshopped) followed by a thunderstorm, which is never welcome in the summer due to the danger from lightning fires.

Tony, Peggy and Tasha stand on the pilots block and prepare for their assisted paragliding adventure.

Tony, Peggy and Tasha stand on the pilots’ block and prepare for their assisted paragliding adventure. Peggy was quite proud of the fact that she flew higher and longer than either of her two children.

Peggy paragliding over the Applegate Valley.

Peggy paragliding over the Applegate Valley.

And climbing high into the sky.

And climbing high into the sky.

Our house was even more crowded than our time. Each room had a designated use. The Library, for example, became Lego Central. Even the outdoor patio and porch were drafted to house carefully gathered sticks and rocks, not to mention water guns. Our bedrooms and bathrooms were crammed with kids, grandkids, clothes, first aid supplies for stubbed toes (they hurt), and all of the other paraphernalia of daily life. Peggy and I retreated to our small RV each night to sleep.

Our library became Lego Central.

Our library became Lego Central. Tony grew up with Legos and many that the boys are using came from his original collection.

Among other things, our living room was give over to reading. Peggy has the boys full attention on this one.

Among other things, our living room was given over to reading. Peggy has the boys full attention on this one.

Eventually the last family was packed up and sent on its way. It was time to reclaim our house. While Peggy worked inside, I tackled the outside. Robota, our robot vacuum cleaner, joyfully scooted around on the floor and searched under couches, beds, chairs and tables for lost Legos, absent autos, and misplaced marbles.

Peggy and I had all of 12 days to reestablish our lives before heading off on our next adventures. Peggy went to England for a couple of weeks with her sister, Jane, on a garden tour that included, among other things, Downton Abby (Highclere Castle). She has offered to guest-write a few blogs on her experience and has been wrestling with how to pare down her thousand plus photos. (Welcome to my world, Sweetie.)

I packed up our pickup and drove over to the northern coast of California above San Francisco. It is one of my all-time favorite areas. I had enough adventures to fill a book, or at least several blogs. For example, I was taking photos of an old Nike Missile site by myself when I heard creaking doors and a Nike Missile came out of the ground. It was pointed directly at me. I raised my arms and surrendered.

In Fort Bragg I discovered the very interesting Triangle Tattoo Museum and Parlor. None other than the divine Madame Chinchilla, a 69-year-old tattooed woman who looks like a grandmother, gave me a two-hour personal tour. It was fascinating. Her husband/partner, Mr. G, was busy tattooing his pharmacist. They were discussing side effects. “Are you talking about prescription drugs or tattoos,” I asked. “Both” was their mutual response. I bought a book Chinchilla had written about their best friend, now diseased, a world-renowned sword swallower: Captain Don Leslie.

Entrance to the tattoo museum in Fort Brag.

Entrance to the Triangle Tattoo Museum in Fort Brag.

And, there was more, of course.

  • I visited an old Grateful Dead hangout that morphed into a 60’s hippie commune
  • Stopped off at the Marconi telegraph site at Point Reyes where Morse code signals are still sent out to the Titanic (no answers yet)
  • Took photos of a church that Ansel Adams made famous
  • Rubbed shoulders with an Alfred Hitchcock mannequin in the small town of Bodega, which was made famous by the Hitchcock film The Birds
  • Wandered among the fascinating houseboats of Sausalito
  • Roamed the streets of the quaint seaside town of Mendocino

Some of the fun houseboats in Sausalito just north of San Francisco.

Some of the fun houseboats in Sausalito just north of San Francisco.

Returning home, I managed to score a ticket to Burning Man with the help of friends two days before the event was to start. So I made my annual journey out to the remote desert in northern Nevada. This past weekend I attended a conference on writing for change in San Francisco. Today I did an interview for a book about the international effort to get tobacco out of the movies, an effort I helped initiate 20 years ago.

As I have each year, I will be doing a series of blogs on Burning Man. This is the 2015 Temple.

This is the 2015 Burning Man Temple at sunrise.

I’ll be blogging about all of these over the next few months. Stay tuned. 🙂