Snake Chase

A True Story, by Mary P.

In the summer of 2003 I had some time off of work and decided to take a trip across the country in my truck, camping out, visiting the National Parks, exploring backroads and generally following my whims until I was called back home. On the third day of my trip I was driving through Kansas and decided to stop for the night at Wilson Lake, a beautiful little spot in the middle of nowhere. I was lucky enough to find a campsite right on the edge of the lake, perfectly secluded and all to myself. After a long day on the road I was eager to get settled for the night and get in some good fiddling before going to bed. I climbed down onto the rocks near the water, pulled out my fiddle and bow and started playing as the sun sank down near the horizon. As usual, I had my eyes closed to concentrate on my music and was fairly oblivious to the world around me. I believe I was playing Train on the Island, in a low mellow cross-G tuning, when I suddenly heard a loud hiss and opened my eyes to see a GREAT BIG SNAKE SLITHERING BY RIGHT OVER THE TIPS OF MY SHOES. I don’t remember jumping, but I somehow managed to launch myself into the air and landed about five feet away, clutching my fiddle and looking back on the rock that was my chair. The snake had climbed up onto that rock and had reared back so that all I could see was a big wide open maw aimed right at me. I decided not to stick around and ran up the rocks to the safety of my vehicle. I have no idea what kind of snake it was, though it was the longest and fattest snake I’d ever seen outside of a zoo. A little too close and personal for my taste, and he didn’t seem too keen on my fiddling either.