I Don't Like Spiders & Snakes

Spiders and Snakes, nope, don't like em, don't like em at all. I just have never learned to appreciate critters with fangs that can inflict pain on my person. I know, there's folks out there with slitherin' crawly pets, and to those poor, confused folks, I'll just ask fer yer forgiveness right up front.

I grew up in the northern part of the Mohave Desert in Eastern Oregon, and let me tell ya, there are definitely spiders and snakes in abundance. Now, I'm not as wound up about spiders as I am snakes, but is there anyone who enjoys walkin' head long into a spider's web? Not my favorite thing to do fer sure. But snakes, those wigglin', slitherin', and yes rattlin' critters, I truly am not a fan of em. Which leads me to a warm, sunny Fall morning out in the sagebrush hills of Eastern Oregon.

As I remember this day, it was really a great mornin'. Stan and Carl and I were out on the BLM lands just outside the home place and we were doin' our darndest to find us a big ole Muley Buck, or any buck for that matter, cause we weren't really all that particular. We'd been hikin' along and split up to cover more ground. There I am sneaking along hoping to see that elusive Buck just around every turn or jumpin' up out of a gully. Now, in this end of the world, it's a pretty darn good idea to keep one eye on the trail and make sure that you aren't about to surprise a not so friendly rattler.

So, I've been trailin' along for a while when, sure enough, I come across a bloomin' diamond back rattler. He's not overly thrilled to see me either, or smell me, or whatever it is they do. Quite frankly, I really don't much care. I'm just a wee bit pleased jthough that they have this tail waggin' habit that sounds all scratchy and rattly and the same time. This kind of tail waggin' does not however compare to your favorite huntin' dog's happy to see ya gesture. Naw, this is a "you better watch yer step or I'll poke a couple of holes in yer leg and fell em full of poison" type of a tail wag. So, I've got no problem answerin' this slithermeister with a good ole clubbin'. Yup, dispatched the varmint with a couple of well placed whacks. Okay, ya snake lovers out there, I'm askin' fergiveness again already.

I check on the critter to make sure he's really done for and am happy to report that those fangs are out of commission, whew! So, off I go to continue the quest for what I'm really lookin' for, Deer, the male variety to be more precise. I haven't gone far, and I run into Stan. We share our mornin' experiences and have a good laugh before we head on down the trail. We don't get far and holy criminy there slithers another rattler. Well, its time to find another club and, yup, get to clubbin' again. We lean our rifles up a some brush and find a good whackin' stick. I get up as close as I dare to the thing and start to swingin' away. About the fourth or fifth swing something really unexpected and completely unplanned occurs. This confounded wiggler get all wrapped around the whackin' stick and as I take my next back swing the snake comes with the swing and up into the air flies the snake. A flying rattlesnake! Now there's a critter that will put the fear into ya, at least it sure did to me and ole Stan. All we can think to do is RUN, and run we did, and screamin' like a couple of school girls as we leaped over the sagebrush.

This surely must have been quite the site to behold. In fact, I'd have loved to been on the hillside watching this flying snake scare the holy $#@*! outta two great white hunters. Now what, you ask? Well, we asked that same question of each other, Now What?? For starters, we have no idea whatsoever what happened to the flying rattler, heck, for all we know he's lying in wait for us or still flyin' around somewhere waiting to dive bomb us. We could have just left this forsaken place, but alas, that was not in the cards. Our rifles were still back there where we first encountered this ole snake, so now we've gotta head back down there through the lair of a fully ticked off diamond back Rattlesnake. Off we go sneakin' and peekin' our way through the brush, surveying every inch of the landscape for the once flying snake. Well, we found him, he was all hangin' out in sagebrush and once again scarin' the holy $#@*! out of us. This time though we have nothin' at all to fear because for the second time in one morning, we have put a snake out of our misery.

We gather up our guns and off we go again, and by now every stick we see is a snake. Not really, but sheesh, I never knew that dead sagebrush looked so darn much like a rattlesnake, did you? Along about then we meet up with Carl and proceed to tell him our tale. He's pretty darned amused by it all and has a pretty good laugh about our flyin' snake story, in fact, I'm not sure he believed the whole thing at all. Back on the trail again, we come up over a little rise and smack dab in the middle of the trail is snake #3. I'm walkin' in the lead, and I just turn around and head back the other direction. I tell the others that I've had all I want to do with snakes and if they wanna take care of the thing, they can have at it. Stan and Carl take a gander at the snake and they break into a big ole belly laugh. I says, "what's so bloomin' funny", and that's when the tell me its a Bull Snake. We all had a good laugh and watched this critter wind his way off through the sand.

We'd made a memory for sure that mornin' and I don't know about the other two, but to this day I still have crazy dreams about flying snakes.