Today I saw rattlesnake number 3 *shudder*. I swear they're following me. Who am I - Harry Potter?? Away with you, slithery demons! You give me the creeps!
My first rattlesnake encounter was on the river path that goes up Logan Canyon. I was just struggling up a hill as per usual, came around the corner, and I saw a horrified mother clutching a little kid while 2 older guys poked around in a bush with a stick. The mom told me there was a big rattle snake in it.
HERE'S AN IDEA, BRILLIANT UTAH FOLKS!
Let's poke around in a bush that a rattlesnake is in. Sounds like fun, right? Excuse me, sir, were you born under a rock? Haven't you seen Steve Irwin? Jeff Corwin? And what were you getting at with the stick thing? It's a full 2 feet long and I'm pretty sure you'd be just as successful getting bit with that as your would just reaching your own arm in there. You're also completely leaning over the bush like it's a barrel of candy. And by the way, fantastic example for the kid.
My jaw hit the floor and I kept riding. Afterall, although I'm technically certified in first aid....it was an online class and I Googled all the answers. I'm about as certified for first aid as that guy was a certified snake wrangler. With his twig.
Ride on, oh Rex, we have no business being associated with these hooligans.
But as my luck would have it, less than half a mile up yet another rattlesnake crossed my path. Why am I even remotely surprised? I am Katie Weller, afterall. And these things happen to Katie Wellers. I always find the most interesting things on my rides in Logan. Such as the herd of cattle I found myself joining, the 2 dogs that chased me down the street that one time and almost took off my leg, the goat I almost ran over, that time I got dropped in Idaho by the hot shot dads, that time I ate shit going around the lake, that moose I stumbled upon in the river...etc etc etc.
So this time it was a wee little baby rattler. It was almost cute. Almost.
And yet ANOTHER family was standing around oogling like it wasn't a venomous animal that is a common symbol for Satin himself.
HELLO!? Am I the odd one for being scared of lunging, venomous snakes? I mean little garden snakes. Sure. Adorable. Lay it on me. It matches my eyes.
But rattlesnakes? Maybe I've watched too much animal planet but uh...I don't want to be spending my Saturday morning sucking venom out of my leg while I wait for an ambulance to haul me off and stick some needles in me so I "might" live. If you want to see a snake - youtube it. If you want an adrenaline rush, go skydiving or stand on the edge of a cliff.
Once again I kept the farthest distance possible, almost falling down the ledge into the stream, and rode on. I do NOT need a lawsuit on my hands because I stuck around long enough to watch the fat dope in the khaki fishing hat get bit by a snake and I didn't "save" him even though I'm "certified" in first aid. I'd rather cut off my own toe.
So my third snake encounter was today in Green Canyon in Logan. There I was, once again strug-festing down the canyon like a 50 year old obese smoker with a collapsed lung (I swear I"m not acclimated to the altitude yet) and out of nowhere pops a big 'ol guy. Diamond head and all. I even saw his tongue give a creepy little flicker.
Dear snake man friend, that smell you smell is pure terror. Take pity on me and don't lunge the 10 feet I know you're capable of and attach yourself to my leg. I really don't want to have to grab you by your rattler, send you flinging into the bushes as I scream like an 8 year old girl, and then have to pedal the 5 miles back to civilization where I'd have to find some kind stranger to take pity on me and drive me to a hospital. That doesn't sound like a great Sunday to me. So, merciful serpent, stay in your little bush. Flicker your little tongue and do that creepy staring thing you do so well, and kindly let me be on my way.
Of course, that's what I think of now. At the moment I let out a "YEESH!!", swerved my bike, and picked up the pace. Then was abnormally snake paranoid the rest of my ride. Every stick was the next rattler. It's enough to drive a mountain biker crazy.
I should really start carrying one of those nifty little leg daggers on me - just in case. Oh, Utah.
Love, me
My first rattlesnake encounter was on the river path that goes up Logan Canyon. I was just struggling up a hill as per usual, came around the corner, and I saw a horrified mother clutching a little kid while 2 older guys poked around in a bush with a stick. The mom told me there was a big rattle snake in it.
HERE'S AN IDEA, BRILLIANT UTAH FOLKS!
Let's poke around in a bush that a rattlesnake is in. Sounds like fun, right? Excuse me, sir, were you born under a rock? Haven't you seen Steve Irwin? Jeff Corwin? And what were you getting at with the stick thing? It's a full 2 feet long and I'm pretty sure you'd be just as successful getting bit with that as your would just reaching your own arm in there. You're also completely leaning over the bush like it's a barrel of candy. And by the way, fantastic example for the kid.
My jaw hit the floor and I kept riding. Afterall, although I'm technically certified in first aid....it was an online class and I Googled all the answers. I'm about as certified for first aid as that guy was a certified snake wrangler. With his twig.
Ride on, oh Rex, we have no business being associated with these hooligans.
But as my luck would have it, less than half a mile up yet another rattlesnake crossed my path. Why am I even remotely surprised? I am Katie Weller, afterall. And these things happen to Katie Wellers. I always find the most interesting things on my rides in Logan. Such as the herd of cattle I found myself joining, the 2 dogs that chased me down the street that one time and almost took off my leg, the goat I almost ran over, that time I got dropped in Idaho by the hot shot dads, that time I ate shit going around the lake, that moose I stumbled upon in the river...etc etc etc.
So this time it was a wee little baby rattler. It was almost cute. Almost.
And yet ANOTHER family was standing around oogling like it wasn't a venomous animal that is a common symbol for Satin himself.
HELLO!? Am I the odd one for being scared of lunging, venomous snakes? I mean little garden snakes. Sure. Adorable. Lay it on me. It matches my eyes.
But rattlesnakes? Maybe I've watched too much animal planet but uh...I don't want to be spending my Saturday morning sucking venom out of my leg while I wait for an ambulance to haul me off and stick some needles in me so I "might" live. If you want to see a snake - youtube it. If you want an adrenaline rush, go skydiving or stand on the edge of a cliff.
Once again I kept the farthest distance possible, almost falling down the ledge into the stream, and rode on. I do NOT need a lawsuit on my hands because I stuck around long enough to watch the fat dope in the khaki fishing hat get bit by a snake and I didn't "save" him even though I'm "certified" in first aid. I'd rather cut off my own toe.
So my third snake encounter was today in Green Canyon in Logan. There I was, once again strug-festing down the canyon like a 50 year old obese smoker with a collapsed lung (I swear I"m not acclimated to the altitude yet) and out of nowhere pops a big 'ol guy. Diamond head and all. I even saw his tongue give a creepy little flicker.
Dear snake man friend, that smell you smell is pure terror. Take pity on me and don't lunge the 10 feet I know you're capable of and attach yourself to my leg. I really don't want to have to grab you by your rattler, send you flinging into the bushes as I scream like an 8 year old girl, and then have to pedal the 5 miles back to civilization where I'd have to find some kind stranger to take pity on me and drive me to a hospital. That doesn't sound like a great Sunday to me. So, merciful serpent, stay in your little bush. Flicker your little tongue and do that creepy staring thing you do so well, and kindly let me be on my way.
Of course, that's what I think of now. At the moment I let out a "YEESH!!", swerved my bike, and picked up the pace. Then was abnormally snake paranoid the rest of my ride. Every stick was the next rattler. It's enough to drive a mountain biker crazy.
I should really start carrying one of those nifty little leg daggers on me - just in case. Oh, Utah.
Love, me
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