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W von Papineäu
at Thu May 1 06:15:19 2008 [ Report Abuse ] [ Email Message ] [ Show All Posts by W von Papineäu ]
ENID NEWS & EAGLE (Oklahoma) 27 April 08 All coiled up and hissing (Tippi Rasp) Okeene: I first met Tony Felder three years ago while I was covering the annual rattlesnake hunt as a reporter. He was standing barefoot in what snake hunters call “the pit” and what visitors call the “Den of Death.” Hundreds, if not thousands, of rattlesnakes lay all coiled up and hissing in every nook of the pit. Tony was talking to visitors who gawked — sometimes with gaping mouths — at the slithering creatures covering the bottom of the pit. I was standing toward the back trying to catch my breath because I was having an anxiety attack and my throat felt as though it was going to close up. I was inside the tent that houses the pit for at least an hour before I finally got the nerve to walk closer to the snakes. When I did, I saw Tony inside the pit again. He had his hands held out — palms up — in front of him with a coiled rattlesnake perched in them. It was just resting there as he let visitors see it up close. I have never forgotten that crazy snake guy from 2005. So when I was asked to go on a hunt by organizers of this year’s annual rattlesnake roundup, I was happy to be going along with Tony. I met him and Aaron Williams — Tony’s friend, fellow snake hunter and guide for the afternoon — for lunch at the Whippet Stop cafe recently. It was a warm April day — perfect for snake hunting — and Aaron and Tony told me they would take me to as many places as I wanted to go to hunt snakes that afternoon. I was nervous and excited. I knew I was in good hands because of what I had seen three years ago. I even overheard a kid inside the cafe whisper to a friend: “He hunts rattlesnakes.” Aaron has been hunting rattlesnakes for the last decade. He said he got started snake hunting after he got out of the armed services. He had jumped out of airplanes and he said he needed to find something to replace the adrenaline rush he got from it. “I just enjoy the outdoors,” Aaron said. He said about 90 percent of people who know what he does for fun think he’s crazy. “After we finish this, we start noodling,” Aaron said, smiling. He says he hasn’t ever been bitten by a rattlesnake — yet. Tony has been hunting rattlesnakes since he was 5 years old. He’s the youngest of six and has five older sisters. His father, Anthony Felder Sr., started teaching his son the ins and outs of rattlesnake hunting at an early age. “My dad always said when the redbuds start blooming it’s time,” Tony said, as he drove up the hills surrounding Salt Creek Canyon. Tony knows the history of the land he hunts — mostly because he’s heard it for years from his dad. He said he enjoys guiding thrill-seekers on snake hunts. “I enjoy taking people out and showing them they (rattlesnakes) aren’t that dangerous,” Tony said. I tried to get Tony to tell me three years ago how many times he’s been bitten. He never would say. I tried again last week but still couldn’t get a straight answer. The last time he was bitten, though, he was treated with 13 vials of anti-venom and was back in the pit the following day. He said one of his scariest moments around a rattler was when his father was bitten. “My hero’s not supposed to get snake bit,” Tony said. My guides took me to an area southwest of Okeene that was sure to produce a rattlesnake or two. We got out of the pick up and Tony handed me a stick with pinchers on the end. He called them “snake tongs.” We hadn’t taken a dozen steps before Aaron spotted a rattler behind some brush and tucked inside a rock overhang. Tony and Aaron stepped back and one of them told me to stick my tongs in there and grab him. My first stab was timid. The second was better but I still didn’t grab him. I spent the rest of the afternoon lamenting the missed opportunity. My guides said not to worry — that it was only a 30-incher — but I didn’t care. I wanted to bag a rattlesnake. While I didn’t have another opportunity to catch a rattler that day, my guides had brought a box of rattlers for me to take pictures of and pose for pictures with. It also gave the guides the opportunity to show off their handling skills. A little later, we headed high above Salt Creek Canyon to hunt. I was taken aback by the view from the butte and was amazed that I had no idea I lived so close to such beautiful landscape. While Tony scaled down the side of the canyon, I stayed on the top, looking for snakes below. I was impressed with his bravery, not only with snakes, but with heights. At one point, a buzzard was flying below him. At that moment, I was more afraid of heights than I was of snakes. After we finished exploring the peaks high above Salt Creek Canyon, Tony took me to the Diamondback Club in Okeene. Inside, I found live snakes, stuffed snakes and the history of the long-running hunt lining the walls in the form of photos and old flyers advertising the event. The history is fascinating and organizers are working on gathering and compiling the information in one place. I hope I get another shot at hunting rattlesnakes. I would be proud to even be a small part of the rich history. All coiled up and hissing
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