Zigzag....

 July 6, 2024

Hubby and I took a day trip to Doughton Park on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was our fifth of five mountain daytrips between June 16th and July 6th. It's most always 10 to 15 degrees cooler in the mountains; a refreshing respite from 90-to-100-degree temperatures at lower elevations. 

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Again, I drive. 

I love to drive mountain roads. 

I'm thankful I can still do it. Sir Edward the Explorer is a comfy ride, though he's not a quiet ride. But he takes good care of me.

Again, there are hardly any cars on the Parkway. 

As I sit here currently at the keyboard recalling that day, I feel refreshed...

Wide open spaces...

Ocean of mountains all around...

Cattle peacefully grazing in the distance...

Sky...

Clouds...

Quiet, oh so quiet...

Sound inviting? 

It sure does to me. 

First thing is to find the bathrooms. (Lol. Seems to be a theme in my travel posts.) I know exactly where they are, kind of hidden down a short descent. Next, we don our skin with anti-bug ointment. Maybe we put on sunscreen too. 

I change out from sandals into socks and hiking shoes, grab my cap to help protect from ticks, and strap on my hiking hip pack after retrieving from it the referee whistle which hangs on a strap. I hang the strap around my neck. None of these tasks are simple due to my finger/hand/arm disability. But I manage. I grab my trekking poles. No need today for rain gear. 

We see no other humans at the park. We did hear a few vehicles slowly drive through. 

It feels so gloriously peaceful. 

Hubby hikes on ahead of me, as is standard whenever I walk with folks. And I'm perfectly fine with that; I walk painstakingly slow. One reason I wear a whistle is in case I fall, or something. It's a loud whistle. 

He wasn't too far ahead when I hear him exclaim, "Whoa!"
I can't see him due to trees and a curve in the trail, 

Wonder what that's about.  

Hubby comes into view and says, "There's a snake coiled on the trail. It hissed at me." 

"Oh!!" I respond with delight.

What can I say? I like snakes. I used to handle a corn snake, Checkers, when I worked at Discovery Place in Charlotte. 

Together, we make our way along the trail until we come upon the snake. He (though it could have been a she) was still coiled. But not his whole body was coiled, just the front part. And he looked relaxed, not threatened at all. He didn't hiss.

Copperhead? I wondered. 

A moment after we stopped a respectful distance away, I speak respectfully to Snake, "I know this is your territory. But may we please pass through?"

As I finished my request, Snake gracefully uncoiled and zigzagged across the trail letting us pass.

Just call me "snake-whisperer." Haha.  
I click a few pics. 

"Wow..." we both respond to the encounter.

"I think that may have been a copperhead. Glad he hissed at you."

"Sure thing," Hubby replies with relief. 

We hike to the top of the hill. I'm glad I'm strong enough to trek the 1-mile round trip. 

The hike is wonderful...

Refreshing and rejuvenating...

Once back at Sir Edward, I change back into my sandals.

Then I look at the snake pictures.

I say Hubby's name followed by, "Uh, um...I think that was a timber rattler..." 

He gazes at me like, "Really?" 

Hubby's hearing is slightly impaired, so he may not be able to distinguish a rattle from a hiss. 

"Look at this picture..."
It's a picture of the snake's rattle... 

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I later learned that the coil pose that we witnessed is a resting posture as the snake awaits prey to cross its path. Rattlesnake bites in humans are rare.

This link shares the symbolism of rattlesnakes: 7 Rattlesnake Spiritual Meanings & Symbols

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