Cussed Snake at Holy Jim

Posted on April 24, 2004 in Creatures Hikes and Trails

All beings tremble before danger, all fear death….life is dear to all.
–  The Dhammapada

This time the snake I nearly stepped on was one to be wary of.

I walked point as Lynn, Donna, and I headed up to Holy Jim Falls, a favorite springtime destination of the three of us. It was laying in a sunny spot on the right, two feet of fire-eyed, orange diamond-backed serpent. It lay so stiffly that Donna and I thought it was dead. Earlier, we’d run into one of Holy Jim’s volunteer fire patrol who was driving the deparment’s funky Volkswagen Beetle fire truck. (Yes, that’s right. He was driving a Volkswagen Beetle converted to use as a firetruck. No picture. Another time.) He told us that he’d killed a snake on the road and to watch out.

We thought that this was the same snake. I tossed a rock near it to be certain. It coiled the rear portion of its body; the forward portion bent into a defensive S-curve. Donna ran twenty feet back to where Lynn was. I backpedaled about five feet. The snake held his spot. “You can stand right here and observe him safely,” I said to Donna. She was going to have nothing of that! Lynn, on the other hand, rushed up. “Where is it? Where is it?” I pointed to the small clearing in the poison oak and miner’s lettuce where it stood its ground. Its blue tongue dribbled like venom from the point of its head.

“Did you get a picture of it?” Lynn asked.

“I’m not going up to that thing and getting a closeup!” I laughed and cried.

I heard voices coming down the trail ahead of us. “Stop! Stop!” I yelled. When they came into view, about thirty feet above the snake, I waved my arms and called out “rattlesnake.” I directed the old man to a spot where he could view it safely. A couple with a child on the man’s back followed. The snake — a Southern Pacific rattler — uncoiled itself and slipped into the poison oak. I approached cautiously, checked to be sure that it had cleared the area entirely and directed traffic — including the shaken mother — through the spot. When we got to the falls, everyone behind us asked about the snake. A pack of cub scouts thundered up. We knew that our return trip would be eventless.