It's Snake Season

Unless you live in a tropical region, snakes native to your area have most likely been in hibernation for the past few months.  As daylight hours shorten and cold weather arrives, snakes crawl into caves, hollow logs, and burrows searching for a safe spot to wait out winter.  Secure in their dens, there they stay for the duration.  Which is where I'd like them to stay.  Once the warm days of spring arrive, however, snakes emerge from their winter homes, just like us humans, eager for food and a warm spot in the sun.

Runners beware.  Snakes are waking up and will soon be on the prowl.  I've had my share of encounters with snakes in the miles I've logged, and nearly all of them have happened in the spring.  Although I personally can't stand the sight of these vile creatures (sorry snake lovers), I understand they play an important part in the earth's ecosystem, and like runners and bikers, snakes and I must coexist.

The problem with snakes is, they appear without warning.  Silently they slide across the ground, without making a sound.  There's no rustling in the bushes or tell tale footsteps to warn you that something's coming.  As if from a magic wand, suddenly they materialize at your feet.  Yes, I've heard a rattlesnake rattle, but at the time I was only inches away--not much of a warning.  With such a low profile, snakes abruptly appear in your path with little or no time to avoid an encounter.

So what should you do if you find yourself inches away from one of these legless reptiles?  My husband would say, yell "Snake", not "Watch out" like I did.  One Sunday afternoon we were running down the Los Gatos Creek Trail, when I noticed something stretched out across the road up ahead on the left.  I thought my husband had also noticed the 6' long, 2" wide rattlesnake, but as we got closer, it became apparent that his mind was elsewhere.  A couple of feet away, I yelled "Watch out!", which cause my husband to turn my direction--away from the snake--and in the process he almost stepped on the rattler's head.  The snake raised it's head in warning and we sprinted away, with our hearts racing.  Apparently if I had yelled "snake", my husband would have looked at the ground.

I've noticed snakes underneath my feet mid-stride, seen them slide into the bushes up ahead, and had them stretched across the entire trail, causing me to change my route.  Without fail, the sight of a snake gets my heart pumping good and fast.  I try to remember, though, that snakes are more afraid of me than I am of them, and give them wide berth.  After all, spring won't last forever.  Soon the blistering summer sun will send the snakes back to their dens, searching for refuge from the heat.  Until then, I'm keeping one eye on the ground and one up ahead.

LACE UP, and watch your step!