Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, May 19, 1993 TAG: 9305180274
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: JOANNE ANDERSON STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Long
We hang back, watching him gently poke rock crevices, tap rotting tree trunks and stir up fallen leaves.
"It's all clear," he says, gesturing us up the rocky slope of Sinking Creek Mountain in Montgomery County near Giles County.
We move up just as cautiously, while he continues ascending the steep hillside, all the while poking, tapping and stirring.
This is rattlesnake territory, you see. And we are rattlesnake hunting.
John Hartley of Christiansburg, an avid fan of Southwest Virginia snakes, is our guide. He insists that the timber rattlesnake is a docile creature, feared primarily because of bad publicity.
Oh, and a few bad bites, perhaps.
"Rattlesnakes don't generally strike unless they feel threatened or trapped. Their first instinct is to run away," Hartley says.
As a child, Hartley accompanied his father to proposed construction sites. His dad would catch nonpoisonous snakes to amuse the young boy.
Although Hartley might keep a snake or two as short-term pets, his keen interest in them did not develop until he was in high school. An uncle telephoned to say he had a rattlesnake that had been shot. Hartley went to see the snake and ended up taking it home, cleaning its wound, administering antibiotics and bringing the snake back to good health.
Hartley was intrigued with the eyes, movement and manner of this cold-blooded creature. During the year he had the snake, Hartley learned how to handle it so he would not be bitten. He grew fond of the snake and its species, knowing that they frequently are injured without reason or killed just for their skins.
Between his two part-time retail sales jobs and full-time police science studies at New River Community College, Hartley, 25, hikes in areas where he might find rattlesnakes - predominately rocky, south or southwest mountain slopes. He has learned to catch them carefully on the hook he fashioned on one end of his four-foot walking stick.
"When I find a snake, I wait to see what it might do. Usually, I can lift it on the hook, move to an open area, set it down and gently pin it just behind the head so it cannot strike. Then I move closer and pick it up."
Hartley will examine his find and mark it by snipping a couple scales with toenail clippers. He records information in his snake log book: estimated age, length, color, den location and any distinguishing characteristics.
When he finds a marked snake, he refers to his log book. For example, he found one rattlesnake at least a half mile from where he recorded marking it. Hartley figured the snake moved when vegetation under the nearby power lines was treated to retard growth around the towers.
Hartley refers to the den as the environment above and below the ground where snakes reside. They will move to new dens for many reasons.
New construction and increased presence of humans will force a move. A period of heavy rain, particularly late in summer, may make their den too wet inside for their annual hibernation period. Hartley has moved snakes from one den to another to alleviate overcrowding as several species will share accommodations.
Because snakes do not have internal temperature control, they must instinctively stay warm, and they bask on rocks much like college students recline on campus lawns - sometimes stretched out absorbing the sun's rays to their fullest extent, other times curled up.
Hartley says you are most likely to find a snake stretched out on overcast days and coiled when there is abundant sunshine.
Rattlesnakes will be in a really tight coil right after hibernation when they have not awakened totally. A loosely spiraled rattlesnake with its head partially tucked in signifies a sleeping or very relaxed state.
Characteristically, snakes do not travel much more than a quarter mile radius from their den for food and water.
Hartley discovered one of the Montgomery County dens when he found a dead snake in the road. Considering the dryness of the month and the direction the snake was headed, Hartley concluded the snake was going to a creek on the other side of the road when it met its fate. He started walking through the area until he found a large den running perhaps a quarter to half a mile just below the ridge of a mountaintop.
Hartley feels lucky that he's never been bitten by a rattlesnake.
"However, be advised that rattlesnakes can control the amount of venom they deliver with a bite, and many `defensive' bites contain little poison," Harley explains.
He was bitten once by a sick copperhead he had taken in to restore to health. It bit the hand that fed it, so to speak, and Hartley wears a permanent little brown mark on one finger and has experienced some loss of sensation at the fingertip.
Because so many rattlesnakes are needlessly killed, Hartley plans to raise and breed them. Keeping and raising rattlesnakes in captivity is tricky business because their natural environment must be duplicated as closely as possible for good health, survival and reproduction.
"This does not mean putting one in the refrigerator to simulate its hibernating winter!" But he hears it's been done.
Rattlesnakes give birth to live babies, as opposed to laying eggs. The average litter is a dozen snakes 8 to 10 inches long.
"They're real cute," Hartley said. "They break out of a membrane and their attachment to the mother, an umbilical cord of sorts, it broken by the rough terrain as they begin to move. They start seriously rattling right away."
There is no parenting among rattlesnakes. The young ones are on their own for their first meal, and they must have a very good meal before hibernation or they will die the first winter.
Hartley's fiancee, Pam Saunders of Christiansburg, is supportive of his hobby. She's tolerant, accepting and interested. But her interest is more reserved than Hartley's. She doesn't do too much snake hunting.
We stood several feet away as Hartley demonstrated a little snake handling. While the chartreuse and yellow female vibrated her rattles, he showed us her fangs and talked about some of their habits.
Assuming this would be my only close encounter with a rattlesnake, I ventured up for a closer look. Hartley says the eyes are beautiful. I look at her. She looked at me. I smiled. She stuck out her tongue. Then she squirmed. I squirmed this time, too. And retreated.
by CNB