MANKATO FREE PRESS (Minnesota) 22 July 08 Snake wranglers: Unusual, but fun - Unusual, sure, but taking kids out to look at slithering creatures can be a blast (Robb Murray)
The question, at least on some level, seemed absurd.
“It’s a pretty nice day, and I was just wondering if Sam would maybe want to get together and do a little snake hunting,” the snake wrangler said (and I’m paraphrasing, here.)
Mmmm. Let’s see: Sam, my son, is 8. And he’s not just 8, he’s an 8-year-old’s 8. The kind of 8 that refuses to use anything but his shirt for a napkin, the kind of 8 who can’t eat or drink anything without getting a milk or Kool-Aid or chocolate ice cream mustache.
He likes bugs. He likes to get dirty. He likes being an 8-year-old boy. ... Of course he wants to go snake hunting. Bring it on.
Our snake wrangler is a good friend and fellow staff writer Dan Linehan, who in many ways is a lot like the 8-year-old described above. He’s done this many times before. He knows where to find ’em, knows how to catch ’em.
As for me, on the subject of snake appreciation, I identify much more with famed Hollywood archaeologist Indiana Jones than the Snake Wrangler. I don’t like them, never have. But I am willing to take one for the team if it means Sam can have a good time and commune with Nature.
We meet on a cul de sac in Mankato right near prime snake hunting territory. To prevent droves of snake hunters from descending upon this piece of private property, we’ll just say it’s not far from Rasmussen Woods.
Sam’s excited. His appearance is already animated because of his hair, described once as “fantastically unruly.” Throw in the potential for holding reptiles and he’s, well ... imagine how you felt as a kid when you were on the threshold of doing something completely new that was half terrifying, half exhilarating. We’re talking snakes here.
Linehan walks us through the tall grass and throws out a snake-hunting tip, probably the key snake-hunting tip: Look for things a snake might crawl under for cover.
(Incidentally, we’d tried a little snake hunting of our own last summer at Spring Lake Park. We found nothing. After a day with Linehan, we now know why.)
A few seconds after we enter a field of tall grass, we find a potential snake hideout. Chunks of a cement slab a few inches thick had been tossed into the grass, providing nice cover for anything long, scaly and slithery.
Linehan pulls up the first block and ... Bam! Snakes, two garters the size of pirate ship ropes — coiled up like fierce, spring-loaded killing machines, fangs like daggers dripping with venom, forked tongues flapping at us, eyes like Satan himself — ready to launch at Sam’s throat!
OK, upon further inspection, they were actually pretty small, maybe a foot long, and they may have been asleep. Sam makes a move for one and both snakes make a break for it.
Linehan’s on it. He follows one through the grass, bounding with cat-like quickness until, T-shirt in hand, he pounces.
Seconds later he pops back up, holding the garter at arm’s length, wearing an expression of one who has just experienced something foul.
Snakes, when threatened, will do a number of things to protect themselves. They will, of course, flee. They also may bite if their teeth get close enough. And they can emit a foul-smelling liquid that can ward off predators. They’ll also poo on you. All but the biting happened to Linehan.
Which caused Sam to first be in awe, and then laugh at the guy who got pooed on.
We continued on. Next stop, a wood pile. Linehan says he’s found snakes here before, and he thinks we may find them again.
After picking up a board lying on the ground, we quickly realize he’s right. Carefully, he picks up piece after piece, more often than not finding a snake. At one point he uncovered a fox snake, the kind that mimics a rattlesnake by shaking its tail.
And in the middle of the wood pile, the largest specimen yet, its body tangled among logs deep enough to prevent us from pulling him out.
In 30 minutes, we’ve found more snakes than I’ve seen in my 38 years. Sam is amazed.
He’s also on the alert. Just before we decide to head home, while hanging out for a bit at Rasmussen Woods, the three of us are gazing down a drainage ditch. Sam looks down at a tree stump right behind Linehan.
“There’s one!” he yells. Linehan quickly but calmly spins around and picks it up. He hands it to Sam, the third snake he’s gotten to hold today. Sam’s smile is electric. He found this one all by himself. He has become a mini-snake wrangler. We leave triumphant.
As an epilogue, we came back a few weeks later and peered under all the same cement blocks and wood piles. Result? Zero snakes found. But at least now we know how to look for them. And we have a new pastime to keep us busy on warm summer evenings.
Snake wranglers: Unusual, but fun