- Joined
- Apr 30, 2004
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- 503
Sorry I had to edit this from my original version - Bladeforums limits the post ot 15,000 characters and I had over 19,000 in my original post.......
Saturday, two weeks ago, found me a little restless knowing that one of my best friends was coming out to see me in Idaho. That Saturday morning I was intently studying the Idaho maps and a couple of the state guides researching things that I hadn’t done before that he too, would probably enjoy. It was a rare chance for us to be together since he’s in Texas and I’m up here, not to mention the fact that we both stay busy for a good part of the year and our family commitments are plentiful.
The weather was warm with no chance of rain in sight. There had been several fires in the state which had darkened the skies earlier in the week, but today it was a clear blue with only a small spattering of clouds in the sky. When I left the asphalt, it was still pressing 100 degrees F and even increased slightly as I made my way north through the sage brush. Quail were plentiful, as were jackrabbits. High desert is a proper description for this part of the drive, but that would soon change. The area became more mountainous and the road twisted around some pretty tight (blind) corners through the granite. Evergreens and alders were more prevalent than the sagebrush, but the sagebrush would be with the dog and I for the entire trip.
Press on I must, to find an agreeable site for a night of “roughing it.” Although daylight in the southern Idaho summers is plentiful, the sun was going down and the canyons were getting darker as the mountains cast their shadows. The contours of the hillsides were highlighted by the setting sun. It made for a fantastic drive, but it presented the reality that I was running out of time. I have set up tents by headlight before, but didn’t want to do it tonight in an unknown location. I stopped at a couple places that aroused my curiosity, but they too had recent signs of our Angus hosts, so I pressed on. I reached a “town” called Prairie, Idaho, where I had shared a couple beers at the only watering hole in this remote location with my neighbor, who is now serving a tour in Iraq, on the aforementioned trip this past May. Prairie is a crossroads of two dirt intersections and a few homes serving weekenders for the summer and fall months. I perused my detail map and saw a trail head for Lower Lava Mountain up the road a stretch, north of Prairie. I thought I could hopefully find a place at the trailhead, or at least some offshoot from it, to make camp before it got dark. The two mile drive off the “main” dirt road did not provide much hope of a campsite along the ridge. It was just too steep and I didn’t know what I would do if someone was coming down the hill for the night after a day’s hike because there were no pullouts. Getting to the top, I felt some elation, followed by disappointment as I realized the larger staging area at the top had a group of campers with horse trailers who have already made camp for the night. Knowing that my dog would likely react negatively to their equestrian counterparts, and the group’s likely desire to be on their own, I wound up settling for a turn around at the top of the hill close to main trail entrance a few hundred yards up the hill. It’s now almost 10:00 and light is more than scarce. I struggled a bit with the assembly of the tent since I hadn’t erected this particular one before now and wasn’t that familiar with it (I purchased it last year for an extra tent when my family came for a visit last year). No worries, it’s a simple four corner two-pole tent that I could set up blindfolded, and almost had to, but the twilight was enough to aid the mechanics of locking the shock-corded poles together and stretch the nylon to form our temporary shelter for the night.
After getting camp established, tossing sleeping bag and pad into the tent, I longed for a campfire, but the recent dry weather and surge in forest fires had burning of any kind regulated to propane stoves. I elected to crack a beer instead and celebrate my accomplishments as I put my feet up near the tent, enjoying the moonlight that was now radiating through the trees. A forest concert abounding with crickets, frogs singing their tunes, and the crackle of a nearby stream had a calming effect. However, sounds of nature would soon reveal what was in store for the dog and I…….
The heat that had plagued the trip on the way out had now regulated itself with a gentle breeze and a temperature in the low 70’s. It was about perfect for a night in a light sleeping bag. The bush was active in the wind and some dry leaves were rustling. I continued sipping my beer and enjoyed the ambiance. I had my dog confined with a leash since it was now dark and didn’t want him straying to investigate the plentiful smells that must be tempting his young nose. The sounds continued, but I was focused on a noise that emanated from the bottom of the hill about 30 feet to my right. The rustling was not from the wind, but obviously one of God’s critters. I assumed it was a ground squirrel, rock chuck or even a small raccoon. I shined my LED Maglite in the general direction hoping that I might see the cause of the disturbance. Nothing revealed itself. Normally even a small mammal will have eyes react to the light, but nothing. I knew it couldn’t be anything of any size. This continued for about half an hour and my dog was attentive, growling occasionally at this ruckus that seemed to be getting closer to my tent. I decided I would scare the little critter off with a short jaunt to the bottom of the hill with the dog, still on a leash, and flashlight in hand (I set my beer down for the “hike” as I’m not that coordinated). I walked about five paces and stopped instantly when the company I was with had been revealed. Two legless creatures with their trademark tails were intertwined and rolling about some twenty feet from my tent – yes, two rattlesnakes had come down the hill as the sun set and were now doing – whatever – in our campsite. I was thankful that I had put my dog on a leash, but now what? My pulse heightened naturally, but I was both excited and probably equally nervous.………It is pitch black now, and I’m alone, with exception of the folks down the hill. I looked around, calmly, but all the while concerned that there could be others. Thankfully, a thorough perusal of the lightly covered ground surrounding me revealed that my “company” was limited to the two immediately in front of me. Thoughts of my wife’s conversation about sleeping in the backyard entered my mind, as did a recollection of my conversation with myself on the drive out – “what is the WORST thing that could happen solo camping, aside from a compound fracture, or severe laceration???? A SNAKE BITE!” ….a quote from Indiana Jones entered my mind – “snakes…….why’d it have to be snakes…..?. “
I slowly backed away with my canine companion, thinking how lucky HE was because he had been running loose while I was setting the tent up – or WAS he OK? He never acted as though he found anything while he was running around, but I was concentrating on getting the tent up. I’d better check him over when I have the chance to. I took the dog and put him into his travel kennel in the back of the truck while I took care of the problem at hand. Thankfully, one of the items I grabbed was my camping kit which has contained an axe since I first put it together years ago. Normally I would have a shovel with me for a campfire, but knowing ahead of time I couldn’t have one, I left it in the garage. Yes – I had more than just this single medieval wood cutting device with me for protection, I had a sidearm, a 4” .357 strapped to my hip, but it’s not loaded for snakes and among other things, I didn’t think touching that, nor a 3” 12 gauge off at 11:00 at night would be welcomed by the cowboys down the trail and they may come pay me a visit with some of their own hardware for waking them up. I’d love to tell stories how I pounced on the beasts with my well sharpened Battle Rat, but alas, you’ll have to settle for me taking care of the problem with a 20 year old camp axe. The funny thing is, I missed the bigger of the two snakes with my first swipe!!! Thankfully they were not coiled and were too busy entertaining themselves, not to mention the light was surely blinding them, for them to react. Two more quick strokes and both of the snakes were in a total of four parts.
Now what? I can’t leave the remains here for the dog to discover. Their venom is still potentially deadly. I thankfully had retained the trash in the back of my truck from the trip to the store as opposed to taking it to a dumpster on the way out of the parking lot. I used the axe head to put the snake’s severed craniums into an ice bag and then reached down and picked up the still slithering bodies and placed them into the bag. I double bagged them, wrapped them shut with the electrical tape I always have with me in the truck and tossed them into the ice chest so the dog couldn’t get to them. I then did another survey of the hillside and the area around my tent. The tent. Uh oh……better check the tent, because I had left it open this whole time. What if one of their siblings decided that was a great place to take shelter? A cautious search revealed nothing in there, thankfully, and I zipped it tightly closed. But should I sleep on the ground? I still don’t know if there are more around. Maybe I should sleep in the truck to be sure?
Now that the immediate threat has passed, I looked at the topos on the map in the truck. I was well above 5400 feet and one of my friends who are native to Idaho told me that snakes are seldom found above the snow line, and I was well above that (these roads are normally closed in winter). Later I found out that these snakes can be found in Idaho up to 11,000 feet in elevation. The comedy continues. As I was looking at the map, I noticed that the creek on the next trail over from mine was named, of course, Rattlesnake Creek, and the mountain adjacent to Lava Mountain, was, you guessed it, Rattlesnake Mountain! Yeah, I had managed to park myself in snake habitat. That’s what one gets for taking this kind of quick trip without studying the area a little better, but I never concerned myself before. I have spent a lot of time in the woods growing up and have seen all species of poisonous snakes on this continent, with exception of rattlesnakes. I have seen numerous water moccasins, copperheads, coral snakes, and even some alligators in south east Texas, but never a rattlesnake.
After assuring myself that there were no more basilisks in near proximity, I decided that I would utilize the bedding I had brought with me, inside the tent. I slept lightly throughout the night, not really because of the threat of other snakes, but because of the dog being restless with his first night in a tent. At first signs of daylight, I was up and moving about. Not just because of the desire to leave the snake camp, but I really hoped to see more wildlife as I made my way back on the hour and a half drive to the highway back down the canyons.
Later Sunday afternoon, I skinned the two snakes to the audience of several neighborhood boys. As word spread in the neighborhood, more boys, some I’ve never seen before, were showing up. I had to keep the bag with the heads in a safe place as they all wanted to see the fangs, but I feared for the still very real threat of the venom and they were overly curious. They were all eyes as I pulled the reptiles’ bodies from the ice bags. Some were repulsed and others were enthralled as I opened up the snake’s undersides to separate hide from flesh. My wife printed out an anatomical photo of a snake, and the older of the neighborhood boys was pointing out the kidneys, liver and heart of the snakes with some assistance from us. What was amazing is that after being on ice for well over fourteen hours, the larger of the two snakes started slithering again as I cut my way down its belly, and the smaller of the two snakes’ hearts continued beating for over an hour after I removed its skin…..pretty creepy, as one of the boy’s mothers put it.
The skins were stretched onto a board and salted as I had done with many other snakes as a kid. The last time I had done this I was probably 14, but it seemed like it was just yesterday. No, we did not eat the snake meat, but I threatened to do so. However, my wife countered with her own real threats that I knew I had better not assume to be idle.
I don’t wish to see another any time soon, but I will never forget my one night adventure with my dog, in what I now refer to, as SNAKE CAMP!
Here's a couple photos of the trip out that evening, including the moon rising over the mountains:
Here are the uninvited guests....Of course I realize, we were the uninvited guests....the knife was just added for your benefit. My camp axe did the trick.
Here are some shots the next morning on the way out. The photo on my hood is the result of me seeing the sunrise in the reflection on my hood, and I thought it would be a cool photo. Yes, those are Hydrashocks. I had my Ratweiler close by.....
This is my Fat Euro at the trailhead...a little out of focus.
The drive down from the trail head:
Saturday, two weeks ago, found me a little restless knowing that one of my best friends was coming out to see me in Idaho. That Saturday morning I was intently studying the Idaho maps and a couple of the state guides researching things that I hadn’t done before that he too, would probably enjoy. It was a rare chance for us to be together since he’s in Texas and I’m up here, not to mention the fact that we both stay busy for a good part of the year and our family commitments are plentiful.
The weather was warm with no chance of rain in sight. There had been several fires in the state which had darkened the skies earlier in the week, but today it was a clear blue with only a small spattering of clouds in the sky. When I left the asphalt, it was still pressing 100 degrees F and even increased slightly as I made my way north through the sage brush. Quail were plentiful, as were jackrabbits. High desert is a proper description for this part of the drive, but that would soon change. The area became more mountainous and the road twisted around some pretty tight (blind) corners through the granite. Evergreens and alders were more prevalent than the sagebrush, but the sagebrush would be with the dog and I for the entire trip.
Press on I must, to find an agreeable site for a night of “roughing it.” Although daylight in the southern Idaho summers is plentiful, the sun was going down and the canyons were getting darker as the mountains cast their shadows. The contours of the hillsides were highlighted by the setting sun. It made for a fantastic drive, but it presented the reality that I was running out of time. I have set up tents by headlight before, but didn’t want to do it tonight in an unknown location. I stopped at a couple places that aroused my curiosity, but they too had recent signs of our Angus hosts, so I pressed on. I reached a “town” called Prairie, Idaho, where I had shared a couple beers at the only watering hole in this remote location with my neighbor, who is now serving a tour in Iraq, on the aforementioned trip this past May. Prairie is a crossroads of two dirt intersections and a few homes serving weekenders for the summer and fall months. I perused my detail map and saw a trail head for Lower Lava Mountain up the road a stretch, north of Prairie. I thought I could hopefully find a place at the trailhead, or at least some offshoot from it, to make camp before it got dark. The two mile drive off the “main” dirt road did not provide much hope of a campsite along the ridge. It was just too steep and I didn’t know what I would do if someone was coming down the hill for the night after a day’s hike because there were no pullouts. Getting to the top, I felt some elation, followed by disappointment as I realized the larger staging area at the top had a group of campers with horse trailers who have already made camp for the night. Knowing that my dog would likely react negatively to their equestrian counterparts, and the group’s likely desire to be on their own, I wound up settling for a turn around at the top of the hill close to main trail entrance a few hundred yards up the hill. It’s now almost 10:00 and light is more than scarce. I struggled a bit with the assembly of the tent since I hadn’t erected this particular one before now and wasn’t that familiar with it (I purchased it last year for an extra tent when my family came for a visit last year). No worries, it’s a simple four corner two-pole tent that I could set up blindfolded, and almost had to, but the twilight was enough to aid the mechanics of locking the shock-corded poles together and stretch the nylon to form our temporary shelter for the night.
After getting camp established, tossing sleeping bag and pad into the tent, I longed for a campfire, but the recent dry weather and surge in forest fires had burning of any kind regulated to propane stoves. I elected to crack a beer instead and celebrate my accomplishments as I put my feet up near the tent, enjoying the moonlight that was now radiating through the trees. A forest concert abounding with crickets, frogs singing their tunes, and the crackle of a nearby stream had a calming effect. However, sounds of nature would soon reveal what was in store for the dog and I…….
The heat that had plagued the trip on the way out had now regulated itself with a gentle breeze and a temperature in the low 70’s. It was about perfect for a night in a light sleeping bag. The bush was active in the wind and some dry leaves were rustling. I continued sipping my beer and enjoyed the ambiance. I had my dog confined with a leash since it was now dark and didn’t want him straying to investigate the plentiful smells that must be tempting his young nose. The sounds continued, but I was focused on a noise that emanated from the bottom of the hill about 30 feet to my right. The rustling was not from the wind, but obviously one of God’s critters. I assumed it was a ground squirrel, rock chuck or even a small raccoon. I shined my LED Maglite in the general direction hoping that I might see the cause of the disturbance. Nothing revealed itself. Normally even a small mammal will have eyes react to the light, but nothing. I knew it couldn’t be anything of any size. This continued for about half an hour and my dog was attentive, growling occasionally at this ruckus that seemed to be getting closer to my tent. I decided I would scare the little critter off with a short jaunt to the bottom of the hill with the dog, still on a leash, and flashlight in hand (I set my beer down for the “hike” as I’m not that coordinated). I walked about five paces and stopped instantly when the company I was with had been revealed. Two legless creatures with their trademark tails were intertwined and rolling about some twenty feet from my tent – yes, two rattlesnakes had come down the hill as the sun set and were now doing – whatever – in our campsite. I was thankful that I had put my dog on a leash, but now what? My pulse heightened naturally, but I was both excited and probably equally nervous.………It is pitch black now, and I’m alone, with exception of the folks down the hill. I looked around, calmly, but all the while concerned that there could be others. Thankfully, a thorough perusal of the lightly covered ground surrounding me revealed that my “company” was limited to the two immediately in front of me. Thoughts of my wife’s conversation about sleeping in the backyard entered my mind, as did a recollection of my conversation with myself on the drive out – “what is the WORST thing that could happen solo camping, aside from a compound fracture, or severe laceration???? A SNAKE BITE!” ….a quote from Indiana Jones entered my mind – “snakes…….why’d it have to be snakes…..?. “
I slowly backed away with my canine companion, thinking how lucky HE was because he had been running loose while I was setting the tent up – or WAS he OK? He never acted as though he found anything while he was running around, but I was concentrating on getting the tent up. I’d better check him over when I have the chance to. I took the dog and put him into his travel kennel in the back of the truck while I took care of the problem at hand. Thankfully, one of the items I grabbed was my camping kit which has contained an axe since I first put it together years ago. Normally I would have a shovel with me for a campfire, but knowing ahead of time I couldn’t have one, I left it in the garage. Yes – I had more than just this single medieval wood cutting device with me for protection, I had a sidearm, a 4” .357 strapped to my hip, but it’s not loaded for snakes and among other things, I didn’t think touching that, nor a 3” 12 gauge off at 11:00 at night would be welcomed by the cowboys down the trail and they may come pay me a visit with some of their own hardware for waking them up. I’d love to tell stories how I pounced on the beasts with my well sharpened Battle Rat, but alas, you’ll have to settle for me taking care of the problem with a 20 year old camp axe. The funny thing is, I missed the bigger of the two snakes with my first swipe!!! Thankfully they were not coiled and were too busy entertaining themselves, not to mention the light was surely blinding them, for them to react. Two more quick strokes and both of the snakes were in a total of four parts.
Now what? I can’t leave the remains here for the dog to discover. Their venom is still potentially deadly. I thankfully had retained the trash in the back of my truck from the trip to the store as opposed to taking it to a dumpster on the way out of the parking lot. I used the axe head to put the snake’s severed craniums into an ice bag and then reached down and picked up the still slithering bodies and placed them into the bag. I double bagged them, wrapped them shut with the electrical tape I always have with me in the truck and tossed them into the ice chest so the dog couldn’t get to them. I then did another survey of the hillside and the area around my tent. The tent. Uh oh……better check the tent, because I had left it open this whole time. What if one of their siblings decided that was a great place to take shelter? A cautious search revealed nothing in there, thankfully, and I zipped it tightly closed. But should I sleep on the ground? I still don’t know if there are more around. Maybe I should sleep in the truck to be sure?
Now that the immediate threat has passed, I looked at the topos on the map in the truck. I was well above 5400 feet and one of my friends who are native to Idaho told me that snakes are seldom found above the snow line, and I was well above that (these roads are normally closed in winter). Later I found out that these snakes can be found in Idaho up to 11,000 feet in elevation. The comedy continues. As I was looking at the map, I noticed that the creek on the next trail over from mine was named, of course, Rattlesnake Creek, and the mountain adjacent to Lava Mountain, was, you guessed it, Rattlesnake Mountain! Yeah, I had managed to park myself in snake habitat. That’s what one gets for taking this kind of quick trip without studying the area a little better, but I never concerned myself before. I have spent a lot of time in the woods growing up and have seen all species of poisonous snakes on this continent, with exception of rattlesnakes. I have seen numerous water moccasins, copperheads, coral snakes, and even some alligators in south east Texas, but never a rattlesnake.
After assuring myself that there were no more basilisks in near proximity, I decided that I would utilize the bedding I had brought with me, inside the tent. I slept lightly throughout the night, not really because of the threat of other snakes, but because of the dog being restless with his first night in a tent. At first signs of daylight, I was up and moving about. Not just because of the desire to leave the snake camp, but I really hoped to see more wildlife as I made my way back on the hour and a half drive to the highway back down the canyons.
Later Sunday afternoon, I skinned the two snakes to the audience of several neighborhood boys. As word spread in the neighborhood, more boys, some I’ve never seen before, were showing up. I had to keep the bag with the heads in a safe place as they all wanted to see the fangs, but I feared for the still very real threat of the venom and they were overly curious. They were all eyes as I pulled the reptiles’ bodies from the ice bags. Some were repulsed and others were enthralled as I opened up the snake’s undersides to separate hide from flesh. My wife printed out an anatomical photo of a snake, and the older of the neighborhood boys was pointing out the kidneys, liver and heart of the snakes with some assistance from us. What was amazing is that after being on ice for well over fourteen hours, the larger of the two snakes started slithering again as I cut my way down its belly, and the smaller of the two snakes’ hearts continued beating for over an hour after I removed its skin…..pretty creepy, as one of the boy’s mothers put it.
The skins were stretched onto a board and salted as I had done with many other snakes as a kid. The last time I had done this I was probably 14, but it seemed like it was just yesterday. No, we did not eat the snake meat, but I threatened to do so. However, my wife countered with her own real threats that I knew I had better not assume to be idle.
I don’t wish to see another any time soon, but I will never forget my one night adventure with my dog, in what I now refer to, as SNAKE CAMP!
Here's a couple photos of the trip out that evening, including the moon rising over the mountains:
Here are the uninvited guests....Of course I realize, we were the uninvited guests....the knife was just added for your benefit. My camp axe did the trick.
Here are some shots the next morning on the way out. The photo on my hood is the result of me seeing the sunrise in the reflection on my hood, and I thought it would be a cool photo. Yes, those are Hydrashocks. I had my Ratweiler close by.....
This is my Fat Euro at the trailhead...a little out of focus.
The drive down from the trail head:
