From Eden
to the 'Burg
A variety of local snakes charms naturalist
By Callan Bentley
Flat Hat Variety Editor
When I realized my hands had just passed two inches from the back of a copperhead snake, I could feel a burst of adrenaline running though my veins. My heartbeat sped up, and my pupils dilated. My brain switched into a more primitive mode than I usually use, readying my body for the "fight or flight" response. Muscles tensed, hair stood on end. I began to grin.
I was grinning because I
love that adrenal thrill. There is nothing in the world that can compare to
the feeling of imminent danger. I was encountering an animal hat could kill
me, and gosh darnit, I was going to cherish it.
The copperhead was in a rotted
log beside a trail in the College Woods. I was looking for beetles in the log,
and had been pulling off chucks of rotted wood when I uncovered the snake.
It was a little over two
feet long, and its skin was colored in alternating patches of light and dark
brown. The head was triangular in shape, with golden eyes set into the sides
of the skull just anterior of the bulge of its poison glands. It had no rattle,
but its tail shook nonetheless.
The copperhead (Agkistrodon
contortrix) belongs to the same family (Viperidae) as rattlesnakes,
and it shares its genus with the cottonmouth snake (A. piscivorous).
The cottonmouth also goes by the name "water moccasin," and is our
second local variety of poisonous snake.
Though the copperhead lacks
the rattlesnake's tail ornament, it has a similar hemolytic toxin in its venom.
Hemolytic toxins cause massive hemorrhaging, given sufficient dosage. Carl Ernst's
book Venomous Reptiles of North America says that the victims of a copperhead
bite may suffer pain and swelling around the puncture site, weakness, giddiness,
breathing difficulty, hemorrhage, an increased pulse, a weakened pulse, shock,
hypotension, nausea, vomiting, unconsciousness, stupor, fever, sweating, headache,
intestinal discomfort, and/or gangrene. Take your pick.
But even before
hearing the full litany of gruesome possibilities, we know to stay away from
snakes. Revulsion towards serpents is instinctual in many species. It is axiomatic
that the Bible warns of the horrors brought on by associating with this legless
reptile. In fact, it has become so accepted that snakes are killers that most
of this country's citizens will shudder at the sight of any snake, poisonous
or not. This is a shame, because the fear prevents people from delving into
the lives of a really neat group of animals.
Most local snakes are not
poisonous, of course. If you're observant enough, you can find an array of snakes
in the Williamsburg area. Black rat snakes are common in the College Woods and
by the Matoaka amphitheater. So are northern ringneck snakes, northern black
racers, hognose snakes, pine snakes, and garter snakes. We have two emerald-hues
snakes, too: classic serpent green, and named for their texture: the rough green
snake and the smooth green snake. The guidebooks tell of other, more rare snakes
that inhabit the area. The coastal plain milk snake, the mole snake, and the
eastern kingsnake are special finds on local hiking trips.
Indeed, any snake is a special
find, as they are elusive creatures. If you want to find snakes, your best bet
is to go along a rocky ricer on a warm, sunny day. The snakes, as well as their
reptile brethren lizards and turtles, will be sunning themselves on the rocks.
They do this because their metabolism does not generate any heat, and they must
warm themselves by behavioral mechanisms rather than chemical ones.
Small snakes can be found
under or inside of rotten logs or stumps. Earlier this week, I spent about an
hour looking for snakes near the Lake Matoaka amphitheater. I found two, a ringneck
and a pine snake. Both were small, less than a foot long, but their strength
was impressive. They wound themselves tightly around my fingers, and attempted
to escape whenever they got the chance. Neither snake attempted to bite me.
Holding such a rarely-encountered
animal is a rewarding experience. Grad a field guide (Peterson's is the
best) from the library or the bookstore and head out to the woods for a couple
hours. Chances are that you won't encounter anything too dangerous, but it's
always best to approach a snake (or any wild animal) with an attitude of cautious
curiosity.
It was in this mindset that
I picked up a stick and poked it at the copperhead. He struck at it several
times, giving me a good look at his half-inch fangs. Then growing tired of the
game, the snake slipped under a chunk of bark, and I went on my way.
That was this summer. While they are still abundant, snake sightings will be declining shortly due to the onset of winter and the snakes' hibernation season. If you want to experience the snakes of Williamsburg, now is the time to act. You won't be disappointed.