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Discovery Number One: Mosquitoes in the Everglades have no sense of
decency and to them, you are just another food group. I had over three
hundred bites when I got around to counting them.
Discovery Number Two: Never go hiking outside city limits with 1) a
herpetologist and 2) a wildlife biologist. I was walking first, looked
down and noticed (keen observer that I am) that I was about to step on a
rattlesnake. I couldn't backpedal, so instead took a giant step OVER
the snake, who apparently being what passes for ambidextrous in snakes,
had no problem at all with turning around and biting me on the back of
the leg instead.
Do I get instant sympathy, first aid, offers of comfort and succor from
my biologist friends? Heck, no. True to form, both of them run up,
look at the snake and exclaim, "Oh, look! A pygmy rattler! What a
beauty!" When I suggest they kill it (delivered in a high-pitched,
screechy, panicked shriek while clutching my ankle), they both look
horrified at the very thought. After all, they hadn't brought
formaldehyde or a speciman jar with them.
Well, obviously, I survived the Great Attack. I run into snakes all the
time out here (happily long since back in Calif) and Cato just takes
them as a Cross-Country Obstacle and vaults them. However, he also
likes to vault two inch ditches, pieces of gravel, his own hoofprints
and anything else on earth, so maybe jumping snakes is just a convenient
excuse for waking Mom up.
Sorry, Steph. Back to endurance.
Susan Evans
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