No matter how many times I have seen Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, it still kind of creeps me out when he looks down from the top of the sandy, archeological dig to see the floor moving and says, “Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”   

 

Over the years I have had a few different encounters with, what a friend called, “ol’ no shoulders”.  I grew up hearing from my dad’s dad, who I called Dandy, “The only good snake is a dead snake.” And I must say that I agree. On countless occasions as we would be fishing back in the slue, where my Grandparents lived in Riverside, Alabama, it never failed that we would have a run in or two, or three with water moccasins.  Dandy would run up to the house and get his single shot, 16 gauge, Steven’s shotgun, and he would come back down and take care of business.  The funny thing is we would swim all the time in that lake and never really thought anything about it, until we saw one swimming our way.

 

I could tell about the time that I almost stepped on a black snake while I was hunting, or the time I was trout fishing on the Hiawassee River, and a water snake swam right by me.  Then there was the coral snake I saw from a distance, which was just fine with me and also the four foot moccasin coiled up behind our AC unit in Birmingham.  Oh, and I can’t forget the one that came out of the hole in the old black inner tube, that I was sitting on, while I was turkey hunting with my friend Dave one year. 

 

Which leads me to my latest meeting with “ol’ no shoulders”. We have recently been doing some work in our backyard, and as the weather and time has allowed, I have been doing the work little bit by little bit.  Anyway, I had done some prep work with a hard rake that I had purchased from Home Depot.  After I had finished readying the ground, I proceeded to spread winter rye seed out over the back and side yard.  Then came the time to unload and cover the new seed with wheat straw.  After placing the bales out across the yard, I began to bust them open and spread them out.  I had made my way through 3 bails and was halfway through the 4th when I heard something that, at first, I decided to ignore.  After hearing it for about the 5th time, and passing it off as a very loud cricket or katydid, I reached back for the next hand full of straw a little bit slower and somewhat cautious.

 

That was when it hit me!  Literally, a foot and a half long rattler hit my hand!  Needless to say it didn’t take me long to sling the straw away from under my arm.  I saw him trying to sneak away under the straw that had already been spread on the ground.  I ran over and grabbed his tail and flung him to the other side of the yard!  Grabbing my hard rake I ran over to him and proceeded to try to hit kill him.  In the midst of the excitement I had the rake prongs down and despite my repeated attempts to get him, I never managed to kill him, and he slithered up the hill towards my neighbor’s yard. 

 

Realizing that I was not going to get him, I remembered that my hand had been struck.  I looked down very quickly and discovered that the snake had not managed to bite me. It just, well, it scared the daylights out of me. 

 

Even though I have had many encounters with “ol’ no shoulders”, yet again, I have been fortunate to NOT be bitten.  There were, however, two lessons learned from this meeting. First, turn the hard rake over when trying to kill a snake and second, check the straw bales for snakes before you start spreading it!