"we keep going until things get crappy" |
||
tin to be flipped
|
I slept the sleep of a man who spent the previous day walking up and down hillsides. Jim got me up at 7 AM, and had a nice breakfast going - potatoes, scrambled eggs and toast. Even the Campmaster gets a little payback now and then...a big breakfast with some protein proves useful for those days when lunch is doubtful. Matt was over soon and the three of us headed out in Jim's big truck to a spot about an hour and a half away. Steep, rocky hillsides were on the menu again. The morning was clear, sunny with a few clouds, a light breeze and the temperature in the mid seventies to start out. Perfect weather. We stopped on our hike up the hill to flip a small tin spot, and I turned up a couple Prairie Ringnecks under a piece of corrugated roofing. They were good-sized adults, but nothing like the 17-incher the guys had found a few days ago...Jim flipped an Eastern Garter under another piece of tin. I wanted a picture of it, despite the snake getting crap and musk all over itself, and Jim took a little collateral damage on that. It didn't make for a very good picture, since I didn't want to waste any time or water cleaning up a stinky garter. Up we went, then out of the trees and onto a grassy hillside. Like yesterday, this place was festooned with rocky outcrops and big flat rocks for us to turn. Jim drew first blood with a very nice-looking adult Milksnake. We hadn't seen an ugly one yet! Matt was working the area a bit down-slope from Jim and I, along the edge of where the open field gave way to trees. "Timber!" he sang out. "Out in the open!" We joined him and he pointed to a large flat rock a few feet away, and we could see two coils sticking out from underneath. The snake could not see us, since we were above and behind the rock. We decided to swing on a wide arc down the hill and try for an in situ shot, using some small saplings for cover. This almost never works, and it didn't work this time either - the rattler started moving back under the rock before any of us could get to a place with a clear shot...
|
|
next
page
back to index
previous page
|