MODESTO BEE (California) 30 August 04 Calaveras man defangs venomous myths (Chris Togneri)
Angels Camp: As the "snake man" of Calaveras County, Mark Popp spends much of his time dispelling myths.
"I have a $100 reward out for anyone who can bring me a rattler over five feet long," Popp said in his Angels Camp home on a recent weekend. "Because the biggest rattlesnake in these foothills is no bigger than four feet."
Popp says this whenever and wherever he lectures on rattlesnakes, which he does about eight times a year, at Boy Scout meetings, schools, campgrounds and park information centers.
Still, people come to him with tall tales of monster rattlesnakes.
"You know how when you're fishing, and you say 'That fish was this big,'" said Gloria Beach-Popp, Mark's wife, as she held her hands above her head three feet apart. "Well, with rattlesnakes, the story goes, 'It stretched clear across the road!' And people know Mark's the snake man, so they come to him with their tales."
One such story came from a group of hunters. They swore to Popp that a gigantic rattler had chased them all the way down a trail.
Couldn't have happened, Popp said. Rattlers don't go looking for trouble, and they certainly don't hunt humans. Rats are more to their liking.
There are many such misconceptions about rattlesnakes, Popp said. So he feels it is his duty to give the public the truth: The rattlesnakes found in the foothills -- Northern Pacific rattlesnakes -- are dangerous, yes, but only when aggravated.
And -- most importantly -- that there's no reason to kill them.
"Most people see a snake, and it's a bad snake," Popp said. "So they kill it. We're killing way too many of them."
Popp insists that he is not an environmentalist. He cringes at the mention of the word. It's just that he sees killing rattlers as senseless.
That's why he and his wife give their presentations.
It's also why Popp provides a free service to the public: If a rattlesnake ventures onto your property, don't shoot it. Call Popp and he'll take it away, no charge.
Popp started the service in 1996, when he moved from Castro Valley to Angels Camp. He was getting his dog, Lacy, licensed at Animal Control in San Andreas when he saw signs on the wall advertising snake removal for a fee.
"So I put my card up there and wrote 'I do not charge,'" Popp said.
Since posting that card, Popp estimates he has removed 600 rattlesnakes from private property in Calaveras and Tuolumne counties.
"They're here, and they're here in the thousands and thousands," Popp said. "I've taken over 500 from one stretch of road alone by New Melones Lake."
Using a garbage can, extended tongs and a three-foot snake hook, he gathers the rattlers and drives them to a remote location on the upper Stanislaus River. There, he releases them.
Popp won't say where the release point is -- "that's a closely guarded secret," he said -- but he and his wife stress that it is an area "uninhabitable" by humans.
"When I tell people I release them into the wild, I get this wide-eyed stare," he said. "'Are you putting it in my back yard?' No. It's a safe place. It's a steep ravine where there are no hikers."
Popp does not release all the snakes. He keeps some as pets. At one point, he had eight rattlers living in his home -- all in cages, naturally.
Recent health problems have forced the 54-year-old retired firefighter to release some, however, and today he has just two rattlers: Lucius, a 7-year-old that weighs seven pounds and is more than three feet long, and Bandit, a 4-year-old born in captivity in the Popp's home. Bandit now measures 20 inches long.
Popp's love for rattlesnakes dates back to the early 1960s, he said, when his junior high teacher taught him about snakes and reptiles.
That began a lifelong passion that has seen Popp travel throughout the United States, plus Mexico and South America, in search of rare species.
Once, while rattler-hunting in the Mojave Desert, a 16-inch Sidewinder crawled up his pant leg. The snake came flying out with a kick of his leg, he said.
"It found a nice little cool cave in my pant leg," Popp chuckled.
Popp was equally nonchalant while recounting the three times he's been bitten by rattlesnakes.
The first was in 1974, when Popp was working at a lab in Berkeley. He was 'milking' a rattler -- that is, forcing the fangs over a glass beaker and rocking the snake's head from side to side to release its venom -- when a colleague shouted to him from across the room.
Popp lost his concentration, turned his head, and the snake got him on the hand.
"It was just a light envenomation," he said casually.
Popp was also bitten while in Los Gatos, in 1976, when he stepped on a rattler hidden in some ivy. The last bite occurred in 2002 when he saw a baby rattler and went to pick it up. He didn't see a second baby nearby, and as Popp stooped, the rattler struck.
"It was a dry bite," Popp said, meaning there was no venom released. "He was just letting me know I was getting too close."
The snake had issued a warning, Popp said, which is more confrontational than most snakes in the foothills will ever get with humans.
A Knights Ferry man also found out recently that the myth that rattlers warn before they strike is just that.
Ken Ritts was bitten earlier this month as he picked through a pile of wooden fence posts behind his barn. The snake never rattled as Ritts reached for a post with his bare hand.
Two weeks later, Ritts' finger still was shades of red and purple. "I really cussed myself out after it happened," Ritts said. "I knew better than that."
As a rule, Popp said, leave snakes alone, and they'll leave you alone.
"When people get bit, it's usually because they're trying to remove them," Popp said. "And it almost always includes a mixture of testosterone and alcohol."
Popp tells a story to illustrate his point: A few years back, he said, a man was hospitalized in town for a bite on his hand. He'd been drinking. The doctor asked what happened, and the man sheepishly explained that he'd caught the snake and wanted to keep it. But he didn't want to get bit, so he tried to remove the fangs with a pair of pliers.
Rattlesnakes, Popp said, don't appreciate such behavior.
"With that one," Popp said, smiling and shaking his head, "I'd say he deserved it."
For snake removal in Calaveras and Tuolumne counties, Mark Popp can be contacted at 736-1255. Anyone interested in learning more about rattlesnakes also is invited to call.
Calaveras man defangs venomous myths