RATTLESNAKES

05/19/00

It was one of those informal base-of-the-cliff meetings of the Reecer Creek Rod, Gun, Working Dog & Outdoor Think Tank Benevolent Association. Informal, yes, but very carefully organized. We were, after all, standing on the hybernacula (wintering den) of a significant number of Crotalus viridus oreganus, northern Pacific rattlesnakes.

We were gathered in the name of science. And, because it seemed like a really cool thing to be doing on a Saturday afternoon in May. Rattlers are ectothermic, of course. They shuttle back and forth between sun and shade to maintain a temperature at or above ours. The snakes become more active with the sun, and may move up to three miles for summer. We were betting that the rattlers were still near their hybernacula.

Dan Beck is Central's resident herpetologist. We had come along to help and observe as he caught, studied, marked and released ratters. The den was in a talus pile of medium-sized basalt rocks.

After reviewing his rules for respect and safety, Dan called the meeting to order. Biologists Rich Anderson, Amy Snively and Dana Gulezian were in attendance to help with the marking and recording processes. Resource management grad students Fred Metcalf and Mark Southern, accounting major Sean Mee, and yours truly remained in spotter mode, while Chris Smart of the CWU Media Center videotaped the proceedings.

We quickly found several snakes, most of whom disappeared into the den under the rocks. Dan began catching the slow ones.

After coaxing the dangerous end of the first snake into a clear plastic tube, he and his team measured, weighed and identified her from marked scales. Turned out, she weighed half what she weighed when she was caught last year. Apparently, she had given birth sometime during the fall. Once her basal rattle was painted orange (blue is used for males) she was released. She promptly posed on a warm rock, while the other snakes were studied.

In summer, Dan often catches snakes and tags them, so that they might lead him to their permanent dens in October. On this day, however, we were simply catching and recording. (By the way, if you find a den or a concentration of rattlers anywhere in the area, but especially up Manastash, call him at 963-2886, and pass it along.)

Several things struck me, so to speak, as Dan and his crew worked with the snakes.

First of all, we consistently overestimated the length of the snakes we saw by about 20 to 25 percent. A foot-long baby shrunk to ten inches when measured. A two and one-half foot female shrunk to 26 inches. And so it went.

The forked tongue is so sensitive that it can "taste" the faintest scent trail of prey.

I was startled that the mouth of the tiniest ten-inch snake handled opened to over an inch. That tiny button-tail viper, unable yet to make a rattling sound, was still plenty venomous.

Dan was measuring and marking a rather unhappy baby snake. Our rattlesnake is a subspecies of the prairie rattler, although it is generally smaller and milder in temperament. I observed that making a rattler angry could mess up your whole day. "More than that," Dan smiled. "The average cost of treating a rattlesnake bite is now $30,000.

As pit vipers, rattlers kill prey by injection of either a neurotoxin, to affect nerves, or a protein enzyme, which destroys tissue.

Dan recommends the "Extractor" snake-bite kit, by Sawyer ($14.99 at Rite Aid). By extracting as much of the venom as possible, and keeping it localized, this tool minimizes the substantial flesh damage of the rattler's bite. He figures that the tissue damage is why so many other herpetologists are missing finger tips.

Meeting adjourned. Step lightly out there.

[Copyright James L. Huckabay, 2000]

Jim Huckabay teaches in the Department of Geography at Central and is the author of "WILD WINDS and Other Tales of Growing Up in the Outdoor West." He can be contacted at wildwinds@cleelum.com