Encounters on Highway 80

The other day, Chris, myself, Meg and Chris (aka "Lizard Chris" or "Boy Chris") went on a big day trip to Douglas, Mexico, and Bisbee. After enjoying the luxury of eating pizza not cooked at the Station, we made our way home. The sun had set and we rode home in the dark. Out here that means wildlife running across the roads. Usually it's bunnies and jackrabbits, but we were in for a treat this night.

I was sleepily looking out at the mountains, flashes of lighting and what was likely fires starting, when suddenly Boy Chris let out an expletive and swerved quickly in the road. He backed up muttering something about hoping he didn't kill it. We asked what "it" was and he replied "rattlesnake" in the same tone someone would say "toaster". So, um.... why are we backing up toward it??

Here's the funny thing about biologists. Most have a specialty. And they, like, are in love with whatever they study and have little brain room for the rest of the animal/insect/plant kingdoms for the most part. Chris is a lizard guy. He likes reptiles. He made no attempt at even braking lightly for the rabbits or foxes or other creatures crossing the road, but a rattlesnake must be protected at all cost. Cute, I guess...

Anyway, so we stop in the road (luckily not at all busy, as usual), put the flashers on and all piled out to look at this man-eater. And there it was. Unharmed, beautiful, and none too pleased to see us. It was also in the middle of the road. Chris pulled out the 2-foot-long box for a tripod he bought that day and started to poke the snake. Yes, poke it.


Unsurprisingly it coiled up, hissed and rattled its tail. Surprisingly, it didn't lunge and sink its teeth in Chris' leg. That would have made for a bad night. This is the closest I dared get to get a photo:


Chris seemed unfazed and actually did get the little guy to the relative safety of the shoulder. Just as this was achieved, we noticed headlights in the distance. We quickly threw the box and ourselves in the car and started to buckle up when the headlights approaching turned on the red and blue flashing lights. Cops. Two vehicles marked "Sheriff" pulled over, one in front and one behind. One humourless man walked up and asked us what we were doing. Luckily the snake was still in view so our story didn't sound crazy. He mumbled something to his companions and then, without a word to us or acknowledgment of Chris asking whether they had a pole to poke the snake away further, they drove off in a rush, narrowly missing the rattler Chris practically risked his life to help off the road. Not everyone sees these snakes the way we did that night.

I feel lucky for having seen one, but I will be even luckier if I don't ever see one again. Or, at least, don't have to poke one.