Yes! Mine snake pics!!!

I lucked out and got a couple of pictures of my Organ Pipe rattlesnake.

First, here's the mine entrance about half a mile off. see the pile of earth and rock just to the left of the big cactus? Those waste piles are always a dead give-away if you're looking for mine openings.

Of course usually the opening has been back-filled or otherwise closed off, but not in this case.

Thanks for the signs, guys. Always makes it easier to find these. And the fence? If they really didn't want me in there, would they have left enough room for me to get in over the top of it? I mean, seriously, that's an invite, right there.

About thirty feet back in, though...a sentinel makes his presence known with a very loud, very effective rattling.

crummy shots, I know, but I'm trying to run a camera with one hand while holding a flashlight in the other in the middle of a significant adrenaline dump in a confined space.

OK, to be fair, none of those signs outside said anything about a snake. That's all I'm saying. One "Caution--snake ahead" sign would have carried more weight than all of the generic "Danger" and "Peligro" signs in the free world.

Final score: Snake: 1, Murphy's Law: 0.

Still, he was a beauty, wasn't he?

What's the scariest sound in the world?

Well Friday was interesting. It started out with great cinnamon rolls in Chandler, and then I met up with Guffaw in AZ, who was just a short distance away. And he's definitely good people. Then it was down to Organ Pipe National Monument way down on the border. I checked in with the rangers and made sure that they'd have no problem with me carrying my rifle with me on my hike down near the boundary and then I was off.

Now before anyone sends me a membership card to Open-Carry Texas, I didn't take my rifle out just to intimidate people or get another business out there to make a new anti-firearms policy; I took it because Organ Pipe is on the Mexican border and they get a lot of drug smuggling through the park.

It was over a hundred degrees again and the sun was scorching, but I had more covering and sunscreen on, and two pocket bottles and a full camelback because there's no water out there. I headed down to Victoria Mine and figured that if the hike went smooth, I might go all the way to the Mexican border and maybe even across it a little bit. 

The terrain is as rugged as it is beautiful though, and that's true even when the heat isn't borderline lethal. Two hours into the hike, the water level in the camelback was getting low and I decided to turn around and start heading back. And that was when I saw the pile of waste mine rock about half a mile off. I had to check that out of course, so since I was going off-trail, I took a compass bearing on the pile and headed over to it. Climbing to the top of it, I found the holy grail: an accessible mine adit. I got my lights out of my pack and looked into the opening. I could see back in a ways and make out some timbering and what appeared to be at least one side tunnel. Even though I really didn't have all of the equipment that I generally use for this sort of exploration, I figured it still warranted at least a quick look. I threaded my way through some ancient barbed wire and I was in, savoring the cool air and waiting for my eyes to adjust. And then I heard it.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

It sounded like someone just punctured an aerosol can, only it didn't stop. What the hell is that? Then it dawned on me: RATTLESNAKE!

Yep. I was in a mine tunnel in the dark with an angry rattlesnake. It was close by, but I couldn't see it.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Where the fuck is that thing?! I froze in place, not wanting to move in any direction until I knew where it was. I shone my lights all around the tunnel but I couldn't see it. OMFG! TAKE THE DAMNED SUNGLASSES OFF!! I'd forgotten that I was still wearing my sunshades. Snapping them off my face, I immediately saw Brer Snake on the floor about six feet ahead of me. He looked to be about three feet long and he was not happy.

I could see farther down the tunnel now, and this mine looked like a great one, but common sense dictated that I cede this one to the snake. I got a few pictures of him, or at least I think that I did as my hands seemed to be shaking just a bit,  and then I backed out of the tunnel. Hopefully when I get back to the lair, I'll have a couple that I can post. He was a beautiful snake even if he was deadly as hell. I am so glad that they give warnings. I'm also glad that my store-bought leg was the one closest to him. And if you've never heard one before, they don't sound like a baby's rattle like the rattlesnakes on the old movies. They sound like a pressurized can that just sprung a leak. And if you're not sure if it's ahead of you, behind you or on an overhead beam above you, it's definitely the scariest sound in the world.

Then it was time for the walk back. Now more than fifty percent of my water was gone so I started my return journey. But the adventure wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. The rifle was about to come off safe. But that story's for tomorrow. 

"Excuse me, Sir. How much for this snake?"

Some people find all the cool stuff at garage sales.

Snake bites man in vehicle

What a nice neighbor

So I come home today and find a 5 gallon pail with a lid on it on my driveway. The lid was held down with a chunk of firewood, and a note from my neighhbor which read: "Caution! Big snake inside! 10 foot!"

That's odd, I think.

I nudge it, and something inside it moves.

Yep. Definitely odd.

So I cautiously pop the lid and I look inside.

Yep...it's a snake. It's black, so I'm guessing that it's a black snake. Because it's black. It's only about 6 feet long though. It doesn't look happy.

I let Murphy check it out. He cautiously peered into the pail and jumped back as if to say: "Oh, HELL no!"

So I took it out and turned it loose by some big rocks on my land.
Now it's presumably happy. The blue jays, however, have yet to stop screaming.

Now I have to figure out what to get my nice neighbor in return. Anyone got a spare skunk they're not using?

Another bike ride

I hit the C&O Canal towpath on my new bike again today. This time I got on at Harpers Ferry, (just prior to mile marker 61) and rode up to Antietam Creek (mile marker 69.4) for a total ride of approx. 17 miles. Not bad for a second trip ever, eh?

Started out with a wildlife encounter of sorts as I was leaving Harpers Ferry. As I was coasting slow along the left side of the trail watching the river, I heard a distinctive sound that I've not heard since my Colorado days: the rattle of a rattlesnake. Apparently I'd gotten a bit to close for Br'er Snake's comfort and he was warning me off. Naturally, me being me, I stopped, turned around, and went back to look for the critter, but to no avail. As I was searching the area, two hikers walked up and asked what I was looking for. They seemed genuinely curious and willing to help look, however, when I told them that it was a rattlesnake just off the trail's edge, they made themselves scarce pretty quickly.

Back on the ride, I pedaled up along the Potomac River, watching it go from rock-choked whitewater to a calm, placid and wide river in the space of a couple of miles.

As I rode, I recalled the last time I'd been up this way--it was October 11, 2008, and I'd hiked it with Lagniappe up to Dargan's Bend, walking about half the distance that I rode today. I'll always remember that day as "the day of the thousand squirrels" because it seems that Lagniappe was spotting one of the tree-rats every few minutes and bolting off into the woods in pursuit. He never caught one, but I yelled my voice hoarse calling him back umpteen million times. Still, we sure had fun that day. And of course I know the exact date because I'd blogged it.

The ride took a bit under two hours, with a rest stop at Antietam Creek and another one at Dargan's Bend on the return trip. Did I mention that I really like this new bike?

After the ride, I went home, got Lagniappe, and brought him back to Harpers Ferry because Sharon, the owner of the Swiss Miss ice cream shop--Lagniappe's patron and benefactor ever since we first moved here--wanted to see him. So I got him up in the truck, took him back there, and she gave him a couple more ice cream cones and a burger. Sharon's given this dog literally dozens of ice cream cones over the years, and I can't take him anywhere near Harpers Ferry without him going ape because he identifies the place with Sharon and her cones. Here they are together.

If you ever get to Harpers Ferry, look her up and tell her that Lagniappe and I referred you. And you won't be sorry--she has the best soft-serve and custard that you'll find anywhere around these parts.

All in all, a great day.

Just another Thursday

It's Thursday. Didn't do too much today. Dropped Lagniappe off at the vet for a check-up (told them to check the oil and rotate the paws) and then I went to the gym.

Still can't run. Tried a light run on the treadmill, but had to quit after two minutes when the pain started to ramp up. I learned my lesson a week ago--if it doesn't feel right, stop.
But it shouldn't be much longer--a few days at the most. I have a goal, and I'm so close!

So I lifted weights for a bit and swam a mile, then I went out to do some shooting. It's important these days to be doing some kind of training, both fitness and tactical...Obama's grand plans are liable to crash our economy and bring on all sorts of troubles and that damned Browning's not going move itself into position.

Then I picked Lagniappe up, bought a bottle of wine and some ice cream (I got this idea for some wicked Riesling floats...) and came back to the Lair.

We spent the rest of the day just relaxing and I finished reading a great book, Fighter Pilot, the story of the life of Air Force legend Robin Olds, as put together by his daughter Christine Olds and author and fighter pilot Ed Rasimus. If you like history or aviation, you'll have a hard time putting this book down. I know that I did. Seriously, get on Amazon.com today and get yourself a copy.



On the animal front, I saw what I believe to be my new snake again today, looking none the worse for wear at it peered out from between a couple of rocks and watched me trim a tree.

The other day, someone asked me what the difference is between a snake and a Democrat. Hell, that's easy. I'd never cut a Democrat out of a net.

And I'm guessing that there's going to be baby deer around here soon too, as I just saw a doe that's either pregnant as hell or else Rosie O'Donnell's been reincarnated as an Odocoileus virginianus. And since the deer didn't really look all that stupid, I'm guessing that fawns are on the way.

So now I'm thinking that this evening, before we try my new adult dessert experiment, Lagniappe and I will take a walk around the neighborhood for a bit, and I'll at least pretend to intend to clean a few guns and tidy up the Lair.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Thursday. Hope yours is going well.

Snakes alive!

So I get home today and find a large box by my door. It turns out that a liberal neighbor's kids caught a large garter snake in a net, only to have the snake twist round and round and round until it was thoroughly enmeshed in the net and unable to be removed from it. Their dad cut some of the net away, but he was unable to get the tight strands away from the snake for the simple reason that by this time, it was one seriously pissed off snake and he was scared of it. So they did what any liberal would do--they passed the problem that they created on to someone else...in this case, me.

When I opened the box, I found a large, angry garter snake that was closer to three feet long than two.He had sections of net wrapped very tightly around himself in three spots on his body, and he's apparently had enough of being messed with because even with the netting restraining him, he was lunging at me with his little mouth gaping open. In fact, he was so aggressive that I had to look twice to make extra sure that he wasn't a juvenile rattler.

Sighing, I drew my work knife and used the back of the blade to pin the snake's neck. Then I grabbed just behind the head so that it couldn't bite me and picked it up.

The snake was still very, very mad judging by it's attempts to twist and contort itself around. But alas, there was way too much net on the snake, and it was nylon line net that I knew would not just drop off if the creature was left alone. So, holding onto it's neck, I began to slice the netting one thread at a time.

It wasn't easy, because the snake kept twisting, and some of the threads were so tight that they were actually cutting into it's body, but after nearly twenty minutes, I finally cut the last cord and was able to pull the last piece of nylon away from the snake. The snake was still pretty mad, though--it was doing it's reptile best to wrap around my arm and/or get it's mouth on me.

"Chill, Brer' snake," I told it. "You gonna be ok now. You're free of the net, and you're even welcome to come live over here away from those liberals."
So saying, I found a nice spot in my rock garden a fair bit away from Lagniappe's run and set the snake down. I figured that as soon as I let go, it was going to jet off, butit surprised me by only moving a short distance away and then stopping and turning it's head back to look at me for a few seconds. It was almost as if the snake was giving me a nod and saying thanks. Then it calmly slithered off between a couple of large rocks, hopefully to take up residence. More snakes equal less mice and other pets.

So can we call that my good deed for the day? And was it good enough to make up for all of the bad names I called the idiot drivers that I was cussing out on the way home tonight?My new snake says yes.

Sunday out with Lagniappe

Since it was Sunday and a beautiful day in addition, I decided to put other topics on hiatus for the day and I took Lagniappe to Harpers Ferry to climb the Maryland Heights trail to the overlook above the town.


First I sent Lagniappe down into the C&O Canal to drink some water, since I knew that it was going to be a long climb with nothing for him to drink once we got started. However he pretty much just wanted to play with sticks instead of drink. You can lead a dog to water...



Then we started up the trail. The first part's actually the old road that Federal troops initially carved out of the side of the mountain to allow their oxen to drag heavy guns and other supplies up to the forts and batteries that once overlooked Harpers Ferry.

We got to a junction in the trail and while I was reading a sign, Lagniappe asked this snake for directions. I heard Lagniappe bark and saw him skitter backwards as this snake--whatever is was--raised up, puffed it's head and neck, and hissed loudly. I snatched Lagniappe back and managed to get a couple shots of the snake before it left. No idea what kind it is, but I don't think it was poisonous. Still, there was no call for a dog v. snake match and one was definitely brewing for a few seconds.


We moved on and reached the overlook. When we got there, there was no one else there and the view was, as usual, fantastic. The sun was warm and there was just enough of a breeze to keep the bugs down. Definitely worth the hike out of town and the climb up the mountain.


I sat there with Lagniappe for a fair bit of time, enjoying the view, talking on the phone to my father, who happened to call just as I sat down ("Just calling to see if you went to church today..."), then reading a bit of Uncle Tom's Cabin, a story which seemed somehow appropriate for Harpers Ferry when I was perusing the bookshelf for a pocket-sized book before coming up here.


Then sadly the tranquility was shattered by high-pitched screaming voices as a cub scout pack appeared, shouting and screwing around and doing practically everything except quietly enjoying the view. I tried to tune them out for a while but it didn't work--in large part due to a particular kid named "Mitchel" who obviously has some sort of disorder that causes him to shout every time that he wants to say something. And there was no place up there to get away from Mitchel's loud, shrill,piercing voice. It would have been nice for all if one of the adults had pulled him aside and told him to talk normally instead of screaming, but none did and Mitchel continued to scream about how fast he can ride his bike, and how fat some girl in his class is, and many other things which apparently only interested Mitchel.

So I got up to leave, and began walking back out. Another of the urchins saw Lagniappe and began waving his walking stick in front of Lagniappe's face, saying "Here boy...get it!" Lagniappe backed off for a second as if unsure about what I'm sure that he saw as a gift offering, then he lunged and grabbed the stick, yanking it out of the boy's hands and scampering off with it. The caused the kid to yell to me. "Mister, your dog took my walking staff!" I looked to see where Lagniappe had gone and he was half way up the hill, doing his best to bite the stick in half before I could take it away from him.
"Yeah, I guess he did. Next time you might want to think twice about poking at strange dogs with a stick." I called Lagniappe and he came back, but typically, he left the stick where he'd dropped it. I leashed him back up and we headed up the trail. Darn the bad luck, but the scouts also began coming up the trail shortly after us and they began to overtake us, making enough noise to drown out a brass band as they did.

As Lagniappe and I neared the top of the trail up from the overlook, Lagniappe froze and alerted on something in the woods. I stopped and looked and saw four deer a bit off the trail. But before I could get my camera out, I heard footsteps and another cub scout came running up the rail towards us. I held up a hand to stop him, put a finger over my lips to tell him to be quiet, and pointed the deer out to him. I mean, this is what nature's all about and why these kids are presumably here, right?
But as soon as the kid saw the deer, he screamed at the top of his lungs: "Hey Trevor! Come here! There's DEER!" The deer were gone in a flash. Yet another reason why I hate kids.

When Lagniappe and I got to the trail junction above the lookout, about half the scouts where there, with a couple of their adult leaders. They were looking up the steep trail that ultimately leads over the ridge and back down to the C&O Canal, and in the other direction, down an inviting trail that descended, one would think, right back towards the bridge across the Potomac and into Harpers Ferry. One of the adults looked at me and asked: "Does this trail go back by the bridge?"

Now I knew that it didn't. I'd explored it last year and I know that it leads about a quarter of a mile down a steep incline to a field, and then it dies out. I also knew that I was probably going to be stuck with these scouts for the whole return trip if they went the correct way.

Shame on me, but I heard this voice that sounded a lot like mine say "Yep, sure does," and the leader thanked me and began to lead the scouts down the path to nowhere. Yeah, I may go to Hell for that, but at least my hike was finished in peace and I was able to enjoy the quiet of the forest and see a bit more wildlife. By the time that the scouts got to the bottom, realized that it was a dead-end, and trudged back up that hill, Lagniappe and I were undoubtedly almost back to the C&O path leading back into town. If nothing else, it helped burn some of those kids' excess energy off, and it should drive home a lesson that I learned back when I was in scouts--"Be Prepared". If even one of those adult leaders had bothered to pick up even the simplest Park Service trail map, they'd have known that I was giving them a bum-steer.

So we returned to Harpers Ferry.Lagniappe got his usual ice cream cone at the Swiss Miss shop, and we came home and had a nice dinner of baked catfish.