I am surprised you didn’t whack your head on an overhanging branch back there. I have never seen anyone leap straight up off the ground the way you did when you saw that snake! It would make a good move for our next dance. Do you think you could teach the others? The snake jump? – Jennifer Frick-Ruppert, ‘Spirit Quest (The Legend of Skyco #1)’

July 6th, 2022. Wednesday.

Just when it was beginning to look like nothing exciting ever happens here, I got the fright of my life this morning. The day had begun like most: Very early. O’dark:30. I love the peace and quiet then, and while I waited for the coffee to brew, I opened my book of devotionals and prayed. This has been my routine for more than four decades: Getting up early and connecting with God. By the time I’m finished, the nighttime dark is beginning to give way to a new day, and sunrise is fast approaching.

I’ve been kayaking most days for a couple of months now, and because of the unusually hot temperatures we’ve had, I’m getting out earlier and earlier in the day. Normally I’m loading the kayak in the golf cart around 6 a.m., but this morning I was running early and ready to go at 5:30. With today’s high predicted to be 102 degrees, I considered the earlier-than-usual time a blessing. Besides, Dave’s not at home (he drove Maeby back home to Kentucky yesterday) and Biscuit and Victor were still fast asleep in our bed.

My kayak is a sit-in, inflatable kayak. One of the reasons I bought it three years ago was that it weighed just 20 pounds or so and I could manage it by myself. When it’s not on the water, it’s stored upside down on the concrete pad on the port side of the motorhome, where it’s out of the sun. To transport it, I prop it on its side and then hoist it up on my shoulder for balance while I walk it over to the golf cart about 25 feet away. Once there, I wedge the kayak, stern first, in the golf cart and bungee each side in. Lastly, I grab the orange bowline and secure that to the golf cart. It was while I was in the midst of grabbing hold of the bowline that I glimpsed something from the corner of my eye. It’s coiled up frame told me exactly what it was.

SNAKE!!!

I was instantaneously overwhelmed with fear, and I dropped the bowline and jumped back and away from the kayak, now hanging off the golf cart, bow down. I didn’t scream, but I was freaking out. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t stop thinking about how close my face had been to the snake, which was now obviously very much awake since having its sleep rudely interrupted. Dave wasn’t due to come until later on today, so I just stood back and watched the snake slither on the kayak. Thinking back, I may have been in shock. It was just 5:30 and I didn’t notice any neighbors up and about. I didn’t know what to do.

Just then, lights from a golf cart peeked over the top of the hill, and it slowly descended down the street, eventually making its way to our lot. It was Jerry, the security guy, doing rounds. I thanked God out loud for his impeccable sense of timing as I waved down Jerry. He probably thought I was just an early bird wanting to say “Good morning,” but when he saw the snake, he knew things were about to get interesting, especially when I told him Dave was in Kentucky.

Shining his flashlight straight into the snake’s eyes, he identified it as a copperhead, and I nearly fainted. By now the snake was inching closer and closer to the cockpit, someplace I did not want it to go. God only knows how we’d get it out then! Jerry rummaged past the extra light bulbs and what not that laid on top of his utility box and dug down until he found an aluminum bat, which he then used to prod the snake out of the kayak and onto the concrete driveway. From then it was game on, and Jerry’s game at that. He eventually bludgeoned the snake, and when it stopped convulsing, it measured 27.5 inches.

When all was said and done, it wasn’t even 6 o’clock. There was no way I was going kayaking just yet. I was still somewhat shaken from the prospect of what could have been and besides, I had to unravel the garden hose and hose down the driveway before the heat of the sun baked what bloody remains were left. As for the snake itself, I scooped it up and have it saved for Dave to see when he gets home.

I doubt I’ll ever forget this incident as long as I live. In retrospect, I regret the snake was brutally killed, but seriously, what’s one supposed to do with venomous snakes found in an RV resort filled with summertime vacationers? I welcome reasonable suggestions. (In other words, don’t suggest catching it and driving it to some remote place to release.) I would hope I don’t freak out like I did this morning, but I make no promises.

Sometimes I forget that we’re still living out in nature, in spite of occasional email notices and notices in the newsletter to watch out for snakes. I’m sure I’ll remember that from now on. Also, I’ll start scanning both the outside and the inside of the kayak with a flashlight before carrying it anywhere. Fear can be a terrific incentive!

With that, I’ll close for now. That enough for one day! Have a fun, healthy and safe rest of the summer making lots of memories❣️Until next time, much love and long, tight hugs—Maria