Slightly less than a year ago I floated the idea of a “timber rattlesnake safari” with Essex, NY friends, John Davis and Tom Stransky. Our mission? To see some live timber rattlesnakes in their native Split Rock habitat. It was intended as an adventure. But it was also a reaction to the alarmingly frequent reports of timber rattlesnakes being killed. Enough dead rattlers; we wanted to see some live rattlers!

If you’re in a rush, the executive summary follows:

• Three intrepid fellows seek timber rattlers in native Adirondack habitat.
• The safari guide is well acquainted with the habitat and has located rattlers before.
• The three kayak and hike and scramble but find no rattlesnakes. Zilch.
• They decide the day was fun anyway and admit rattlers are rare and tough to find.
• A year later one of the fellows is out of town and his bride calls to alert me that…
• A timber rattlesnake is coiled up in their barn. I go. It is. Photos are taken.

If you’re less rushed and more curious, here’s the more serpentine chronicle.

Rattlesnake Safari Uncoiled

In early July 2012, I posted a heartbreaking image of a timber rattlesnake killed on Lakeshore Road near the Split Rock Wildway. I shared my plans for a “rattlesnake safari” in an effort to document live, healthy rattlesnakes in their natural habitat. The goal? Increase awareness – and hopefully appreciation – for our native population of timber rattlesnakes concentrated in this unique Adirondack wilderness corridor.

I want to believe that sharing a personal timber rattlesnake experience will inspire people to exercise greater caution when driving along Lakeshore Road. And, with a dash of luck, I just might convince people fearful of rattlesnakes to spare their lives. (“Timber Rattlesnake Killed“)

John Davis, a conservationist, writer and wilderness trekker (@wildwaystrekker) had discovered six timber rattlesnakes a couple of years prior during a Split Rock outing, and he was optimistic that we would be able to locate a few during our rattlesnake safari. It took us the balance of July and August to arrive at a date that worked for all three of us and favored our mission. And on September 12 we embarked.

Timber rattlesnake safari w/ @trekeast this morning. Fingers crossed that we spot a Crotalus horridus. Or two! #Adirondacks #Champlain #ADK

— virtualDavis (@virtualDavis) September 12, 2012

TrekEast/TrekWest veteran John Davis prepares for first foray into timber rattlesnake habitat on September 12, 2012 by transitioning from waterman to mountaineer. Our “rattlesnake safari” inspired the nickname “Trek-Beast” in honor or Davis’ epic wildlife and habitat adventures.

In hind sight, we might have worn gators to be extra-prudent, though the day was hot and we were more concerned with comfort and convenience.

@TrekEast Loon? Check. Eagle? No. Eagle's nest? Check. Falcon? No. Timber rattlesnake? No. First class paddling and scrambling? Check! 🙂

— virtualDavis (@virtualDavis) September 13, 2012

Accidental Rattlesnake Safari

Our unsuccessful quest to witness live timber rattlesnakes highlighted the incredibly elusive nature of the Crotalus horridus. These much mythologized predators are in fact incredibly reserved, infrequently witnessed by recreational hikers and far more likely to retreat than attack.

And so you can imagine my envy when on Thursday, September 13, 2012 Herb Terns published the following in the Times Union “Our first rattlesnake on Split Rock Mountain!” This excerpt describes their experience at Snake Den Bay Overlook:

Perhaps the gift of a timber rattlesnake sighting is best received by the unsuspecting.

Perhaps not.

Rattlesnake Safari Revisited

This afternoon I was tucking into my lunch when the phone rang. My bride answered, listened and handed me the receiver. Hillary Stransky asked me if I remembered last summer’s uneventful rattlesnake safari with her husband. I did. Why?

“There’s a rattlesnake in our barn.”

A short while later I was fortunate enough to photograph the young-ish, calm and totally unaggressive visitor. Only once Hillary fired up the lawn mower and backed away from the approximately 30-36″ snake did it slowly, lazily uncoil and navigate around the wall of the barn. But it didn’t venture far, preferring to coil up again along the outside of the barn where it could enjoy the afternoon shade. Never once did the snake behave aggressively or ever rattle his tail. Is suspect we didn’t look very threatening, and the click-click-clicking of my camera my have hypnotized the almost black pit viper.

After overwhelming the memory card on my camera and waving goodbye to Hillary I headed home. As I drove, two thoughts occurred to me. And both are loosely tied to the timber rattlesnake overview provided by a writeup, “Group Aims to Save Rattlesnakes in New York Park” from freerepublic.com.

Protected by state law, rattlers are considered a threatened species in New York… State wildlife officials estimate New York has 3,000 to 6,000 rattlesnakes left, mostly around the Hudson Highlands and a dozen Adirondack dens… Rattlers hibernate in winter and are active from about May through September. Females start reproducing at age 8 or 9, giving birth to litters of five to 12 every few years. They mate in late August. “Given their low reproductive rate along with a high mortality rate of young, as well as being killed or captured by humans, the Timber Rattlesnake is in serious trouble in the Northeast,” James Beemer, a civilian Defense Department biologist, wrote in a 2001 study… Rattlers have not been responsible for any fatalities in New York for decades. Unless you try to pick up or harass one, you stand a better chance of being struck by lightning than bitten, Beemer said… the ambush hunters are deadly to mice, chipmunks and squirrels but are “extremely shy” of humans and will hide or try to leave unnoticed. (freerepublic.com)

Notice in the later pictures the rattlesnake is coiled next to and behind a lightning rod. Uncanny. So, is this a message? Heightened risk? No and no, but amusing.

And the second thought was more of a question: how should a homeowner respond to a rattlesnake (or other potentially dangerous but protected wild animal)? Obviously most people would want to remove the risk, but I’m hopeful that most people recognize the merits of responsible action. According to several local sources you should contact the DEC, and they will resolve the situation safely and expeditiously. I will update this post if/when I have confirmation on the best way to respond.