Turtle Bluff Anecdote #2

Copperheads are a venomous snake that simply love the area around where we camp.  One summer afternoon, I was walking down the steep trail to go the aforementioned river when I stepped on a copperhead.

I was wearing flip-flops at the time.

Imagine my chagrin as I felt the tail of the snake whip around my shoe and my bare foot.  Imagine the snake’s utter and abject horror at being stepped on by a big primate.  In one of my rare moments of stupidity, I did the worst thing I could do.  Instead of remaining perfectly still, I danced backwards, narrowly avoiding the strike of the snake.  For a moment, the snake and I traded glares across a span of about six feet.  Slowly, carefully, I unholstered the pistol I was carrying (a trusty, police model .357 magnum).  The snake remained transfixed as I leveled the pistol, pulled back the hammer, and shot him just behind the neck.

That’ll teach him to strike at me.  PETA, eat your heart out.