Everyone knows social media can be problematic. It’s easy to get bogged down in appearances—like the whole world is living an epic adventure, while your own life feels dull or disappointing. But here’s the truth: most people are posting their greatest hits—a highlight reel. Meanwhile, I’m mentally comparing it to my bloopers and practical jokes. Here’s the reality of it. Facebook is like a cover letter. Nobody talks about the time they got written up for a long lunch or describes the PowerPoint that flopped. People post their wins.
Challenges and shortcomings notwithstanding, social media DOES have its benefits. Among them, it can expose us to new ideas and experiences. It is precisely one of those situations I’m delving into today.
I read an interesting online magazine article on wildlife photography; and before I knew it, I was getting suggestions of related groups in Facebook.
It’s like someone was spying on me….
Much of my life has been spent outdoors. A recent article I wrote goes into that, but suffice to say, I’m not a novice. Many wild animals are familiar: raccoons, coyotes, deer, owls, hawks and other birds of prey weren’t new to me. I’ve also encountered a few that are specific to my new stomping grounds. Things like javelinas, roadrunners, tarantulas, and scorpions have also availed themselves a chance peek now and then.
However, there is one experience that I have entirely missed, and Facebook reminded me of it. I now live in the rattlesnake capital of the world. Arizona boasts 13 different species of them. But I have never found one in the wild. NEVER.
I started researching articles and YouTube videos on rattlesnakes. Like most spontaneous ideas, I jumped in feet first. I devoured information. And last week, I felt ready to go out searching.
I live near a National Park, and there is a trail head about 10 minutes from my house. I haven’t explored it much – only driven by it a few times. It’s the opposite direction of anything else I usually do. But last Friday, I drove straight there to look for rattlesnakes. It was dark when I arrived.
Unfamiliar with the layout, I didn’t have a specific direction in mind. I walked perpendicular to the parking lot, and straight into a flat, rocky landscape of low brush and towering saguaro. I was using a cheap (read: free) blue Harbor Freight flashlight and carrying my wife’s good camera. And like the area I was exploring, I was rather unfamiliar with the workings of this second instrument – more on that in a moment.
As I meandered, I thought about how ill-prepared I was for this little excursion. For an experienced backpacker and Outdoor Recreation major, I should have known to bring some basic gear with me. At the very least, I should have had a bottle of water.
You’re in the damn Sonoran Desert, for crying out loud!
Regardless, I forged through the field like Hansel and Gretel toward the witch’s house. As my flashlight began to fade, I walked into a small, sandy clearing. There wasn’t a lot of moonlight. A “waning crescent” only exposes about 10% light, and it was overcast as well. But soon, a round, grey lump came into view, and I got a little shiver up my spine.
“That’s a snake!”
I stood, motionless for what seemed like an hour, though it was probably closer to 30 seconds. As the initial surprise abated, I slowly began to creep closer until I was about 6 feet from her. She stayed perfectly still (which I must say, was very polite of her). I spent several minutes messing around with the camera, trying to adjust the flash settings, but eventually gave up and switched to auto-focus. I took several shots with the camera and a few more with my phone, just in case.
All told, I probably spent 20 minutes marveling at this little gal. I was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. To her credit, she never rattled. Only once in the entire encounter did she even move; the first time the shutter clicked, her head twitched toward me. After our mutually respectful visit, I began my meander back to the car.
The next morning, my wife assisted me in reviewing the photos. Several were blurry or ill framed, but there were also a few nice ones. I determined that it was probably a Western Diamondback (Crotalus atrox). This initial appraisal was later confirmed on one of those Facebook groups.
My anecdotes usually reflect on familiar subjects – things I’ve enjoyed since childhood. In this case, I’m exploring something that isn’t ‘entirely’ foreign. It’s more like is a fresh take on an old interest. Hiking at night, especially in the American Southwestern desert, is an amazing activity. I was enveloped in a dark but sensory rich environment. The little bit of light I had gave me glimpses of arachnides and insects who probably weren’t expecting me. They timidly drew away from my probing light. I also surprised a few desert pocket mice (which is a good sign if one is looking for snakes).
As mentioned earlier, there are 13 species of rattlesnake that live here.
I found ONE…
-Toph
