Night
Hunting
A
north Georgia rattlesnake den from 0200 to 0430
By:
Daniel Duff
My mind was made up, I
wanted to visit one of my den locations during the night to compare and
contrast observations from visits during the daylight. All I needed to do was
to convince a friend who previously joined me on day trips, to hike two miles
beneath a three-quarter moon in search of rattlesnakes hidden in rocks.
Enthusiastically he obliged so we packed flashlights, water, and cameras then
left my house around midnight. Neither my friend nor I could have ever
predicted just how wonderfully successful a random, ill planned trip to one of
my den locations was to be this cloudy night.
Silver
moonlight cast a bright glow in the cloudy mountain sky. It is said that there
are women so beautiful that a room is literally brightened upon her entrance,
Artemis’ beauty must be unequaled if she can illuminate an entire forest
through phantasmal fog. The wet gravel road glittered in dew and crunched
beneath our feet as we made our way along its curves. To the summit side of the
trail grew mountain ivy, which seemed to reach for us from within the shadows
like hell born wraiths, only forestalled by the opulent gaze of our goddess.
Bellow us on the valley side of the trail runs a watercourse rich in trout; it’s
bubbling was a sound of comfort.
One
of the creatures we encountered, as we made our way down the road, was the
slimy salamander Plethodon glutinosus; several had migrated up from the flood plain and were probably hunting on the trail. Chaz, my friend and cameraman, took several photos of the great salamander exodus. Occupied with the salamanders, the two of us nearly walked right into a
giant spider web! The shiny strands stretched across the trail ready to capture
unsuspecting bugs or two humans busily mucking with salamanders. I have no idea
of the spider species that came so near to our heads, but it was ominous and
remarkably beautiful.
Several
thoughts vexed me while walking the hour or so that it takes to travel to the den
most notably the temperature; I could see rising in the periphery of my head
lamp, like smoke from a chimney, my labored breath. However, as we got further from the river and
gained elevation, the air rapidly warmed; we were soon sweating profusely. I
also sought comfort in knowing the stones of the den would still be warm. There
was also the moon phase to consider. As I stated before, it was intensely
bright and even through the veil of clouds, the hunters’ eye had her favor. I
worried the snakes would be driven deep under cover to protect themselves from
the talons of the owl, the gluttonous hog, and the hungry bear; all looking for
an easy snack.
Our
safety was also of great concern this was the den from which the timber that so
severely envenomated me in 2007 came from. Naturally, I could not help but
imagine the consequences of a bite to either of us while isolated, and so far
from help, the thought tormented me. Nevertheless, we pushed on our hearts
racing in great anticipation.
Finally,
after trekking through toads, salamanders and dodging spider webs we arrived at
the point where we cross into a thick mountain forest with trails torn by wild
game; that in which we followed. Our headlamps illuminated for us gnarly
tunnels, branches grabbed and snagged at our cloths causing us to alter our
course several times. All effort was made to keep up a loud conversation to
ward off any bear or hogs. We were in a “green hell”.
No
sooner had we broke free from the grips of the forest did we spot our first
rattlesnake. My friend Chaz called out
“there’s one!” Sure enough, stretched
out on flat stone, was a tancient male timber
rattlesnake Crotalus horridus. With much unreserved excitement, I went after him with hook in hand, securing him for pictures; all the while wary of his head.
Once
we let him go he immediately made a slithering dash for some rocky cover, and
out of curiosity I followed him. When I scanned the stone pile my light fell
upon three beautiful, black timbers coiled tightly together, their heads
peering back at me, eyes shining red, and tongues flicking. Alas, they were too
deep in their hole to remove and photograph safely.
Walking
about the rock face, we made sure to stay close and to communicate our
intentions to lessen any chances of getting hurt. Certain places I refused to
venture: places too thick to wander in the black of night. There was plenty of
open rock to explore safely, and to our hearts content.
My
light scanned over each and every exposed rock and my eyes constantly adjusted
to make sense of all the patterns as shadows played their trickery. Colors and
shapes all too familiar caught my eye; a copperhead Agkistrodon c. mokasen sat contently in a small hole. With some effort I was able to pull out
the gravid female northern copperhead, we only briefly examined her, and then
replaced her back to gestate in peace.
Copperheads
were quite plentiful this night and made up the bulk of our find. I would creep
extremely low, scanning with my light, and they seemed to materialize. This
being only the second time I have seen this den under summer conditions, but I
noticed, never before had I seen so many copperheads here. Finding them was
really quite charming and very fun!
A
few large, lonely stones sat around like ancient monuments and were too heavy
to move, so the rattling beneath them would remain as ghosts. These rock
temples were a beautiful sight, and it was nice knowing the snakes had them as
shelter from humans and wild game alike! To be surrounded by rattling,
slithering serpents in their great city is a nightmare to some; however I felt
a great deal privileged to be amongst them.
After
an hour of herping, it was time for a break we turned off all of our lights and
let our eyes adjust to the natural light of moon and stars. The mountain
adjacent to us, took on a dark and gruesome look like a black wave ready to
smash down upon us at any moment. Lacey clouds unfurled like the icy breath of
gods as they passed over the mountains and in front of the moon. Many brilliant
celestial bodies were visible, and looked as though you could pluck them from
the heavens like one would pick fruit.
Chaz
mistakenly set off the flash on the camera and with a strobe light effect; bats
could be stopped in mid flight! We messed around for a minute or so watching
them in their erratic but graceful flight, dodging, weaving, and eradicating
mosquitoes. We had not previously noticed how near to our heads they were
swooping, likely after the bugs that our lamps attracted.
We
resumed hunting after the break and it wasn’t long before we were alerted to
the presence of another rattlesnake, buzzing under a rock. I felt confident
that he could easily be scooped from his hiding spot with my hook, but he
proved to be unwilling. Chaz was on the other side of the stone, and as soon as
the snake made an appearance, he scooped him out into the open making this his
first venomous capture. I was instantly awe struck by the beautiful yellow and
tan rattlesnake. As I posed for pictures, which clearly display my excitement,
Chaz warned me that the snake had struck at him, and to be careful.
Two
hours had passed while we hunted snakes in this magnificent place it was now
four in the morning, the two of us were exhausted, and we still had an hour’s
hike back to my truck. With aching bellies and bed weary eyes we decided to
call it a night. When we came upon the river its icy mountain water seemed a little
too inviting so we stopped and plunged our sweat- drenched heads into the
water.