Snakes
“Cheh... Cheh………Cheh.”
“That’s a weird bird noise,” I thought to myself. Cheh..Cheh..Cheh, Cheh. “It must be some sort of Prairie Dog, or bird, or something.” I noticed the volume and frequency both increased just a bit while I was thinking about it.
This was Grouse Camp. I was in the high, hill country in Wyoming with six other bird dog enthusiasts. We were in a great area for Hungarian Partridge, but still in the grass so there were no Sage Grouse (no Sage) and no Dusky Grouse (no Sage and no Fir trees). The grass that year was lush and very tall, in some areas waist high. My little girl, JD, and I were taking a casual stroll by ourselves. I had no expectations for her, I was just working on her quartering, keeping me in sight and in front. It was a very pleasant and warmish day at about 7500’ elevation. Being a flatlander, it amazed me the power of the western sun. The sky is so clear and blue, and, with low humidity, there is nothing to moderate the sun’s rays. Even though the temperature was pleasant, outside the shade it was approaching hot.
We made a circular cast about a mile in length. We were on our way back to the gaggle of trucks on the horizon. I could just barely see JD and only about half the time. I noticed she had the range and direction out from me perfectly figured out. I was daydreaming about some inconsequential thing when I heard the first sound that puzzled me. “Cheh……Cheh…...Cheh.” While wondering about the unusual noise, I was quickly drawn back to the present, and I took stock of my immediate surroundings. I was in tall grass that came about to my thigh. It was very thick, and I couldn’t see the ground. I was standing next to a green shrub of about two feet and next to the shrub was a low, natural stone wall about three feet tall that ran parallel to my course. I heard the noise again, this time a little more insistent. “CHEH…Cheh, Cheh, Cheh!
I hadn’t moved since hearing the sound the first time. Now, I began to localize the whereabouts of the sound. It was to my right, in the direction of the stone wall. I was wearing my sound attenuators, molded earpieces that protect my ears from the gunshots. The weird thing was that I could only hear the noise out of my right earpiece, but not the left. Without moving too much, I looked down to my feet. I could barely see them, and I did not move them. At all. The bush was to my right, the wall was to my right, the noise was to my right. And now the noise became insistent! CHEHCHEHCHEHCHEH, until became one noise, loud and long.
I finally realized I had a rattler, very close and very pissed off. That was about the time the hair went up on the back of my neck. I knew there was danger close. I knew he was upset and trying to give me every chance to leave. The problem was I didn’t know where he was! I thought I knew the direction, but was I willing to bet a snakebite on what I thought I knew? Just about then, in my mind, I imagined the “whack” of the strike on my right shin and the emergency it would create way up there in the Wyoming mountains. (It’s amazing what can flash through the mind in the blink of an eye!) I looked up and saw JD coming to me about 100 yards away. I realized then I was on high alert, and I needed to act before the dog got to me.
It was time to decide. I held my breath and, took a giant step forward with my right leg. Immediately, the buzzing stopped! I looked to JD, took another step and strode off to meet her and keep her out of the area. We evacuated the area with intention.
I realized the snake was probably only a foot or less away from me when I stopped. I couldn’t see him, but he knew right where I was. I was lucky I didn’t step on him. I’m glad he chose to warn me, rather than strike immediately. That’s one reason I think it was a mature snake. I’m thankful it worked out the way it did. He didn’t need to strike me, and I didn’t need to remove his head from his body- and the dog stayed safe. Everyone did what needed to be done, and we were all OK. It did cross my mind about snake avoidance training and whether, in this case, if would have worked for JD. I’ve seen it work first-hand while hunting but moving fast through that thick cover would be a worst-case scenario.
Over the years, I have seen many snakes ,usually in Montana for some reason, mainly Prairie Rattlers. I have stepped over Rattlers, canoed by Moccasins, field trialed by Eastern Diamondbacks. I attempt to stay out of “snakey” areas, and I don’t worry too much about it. This situation ended well and merely added a story to the logbook. Bird hunting is 99% benign, but there is always that 1% buffoonery factor that keeps it interesting.
