Three Snake Stories

We've had so much rain this summer; the mountains are GREEN. This means life is especially abundant--we still have wild flowers about, but we also have quite a few snakes. That's okay, because they'll take care of the desert rat population, too. Everyone has their rightful place in an eco-system.

Story 1. Teamwork.
Robert and Nada live in a trailer 10 miles east of town. When you live out in the country, the roadrunners tend to adopt you. Last week they told me three roadrunners herded a rattlesnake away from their front door and under their trailer. One roadrunner took the right, another the left, and the third walked behind the snake, until it was completely under the house and out of harm's way.

Story 2. Plucky Girls with Machetes.
In the early days of the Mitre Peak Girl Scout camp, things were a little different than they are today. The counselors and the campers did heavy labor, character-building work. They cut trails, cleared campsites, built gathering places in the forest. The 9, 10 and 11-year olds revered their counselors, all recent high school graduates. This is no wonder, because the counselors were trained--upon seeing rattlesnakes--to take out their camp-issued forked sticks and their machetes, and kill those snakes dead!

Story 3.
The Stupid Tourist. Act 1. Many years ago, I attended a conference near Sundance in Utah, high up in the mountains. During one break in a session, I saw a moose (yes, my first!) lumbering away from us down the road. Without thinking, I grabbed my camera and took off towards him, only to fully reckon his immense size when he turned around and headed towards me! Running in fear, and then hiding behind a parked car, I told myself I was an idiot, a stupid tourist who should know better. And yes, the other conference-goers saw the whole thing. Dumb me. The Stupid Tourist. Act 2. When my running partner was here a couple of weeks ago, I felt comfortable taking to the roads for a daily run. I loved the change of scenery, and the companionship, and this was a particularly beautiful spot. At the end of our hot, challenging, hilly run, I saw my first rattler (in two years, that's not bad!) stretched out on the road. A long fella--a diamondback--he didn't seem menacing. But I got too close for my companion's comfort, and, in retrospect, my own. Later a snake expert friend of ours told us they're unlikely to strike when all stretched out; when coiled, that's when they're ready for action. I knew that, but in some respects, I still plenty to learn here.