I maintained my focus on the trail as it was cluttered with loose rock and my proprioception (fancy college word of the day) was key in not getting hurt. While chugging up the hill, I noticed the lady had remained motionless at the side of the trail. Since most wait for the final yards to step aside, including me, her behavior was odd. Music was setting a good rhythm during the ascent and while nearing her, sheer terror distorted her face while staring right at, or behind me.
Her eyes were frozen wide open and her mouth was agape with her skin appearing to have lost all color. Perceiving something deadly was right behind me, I instinctively reached for my knife. I spun around and lowered my center of gravity to meet the unknown challenger and only viewed an empty trial. My eyes darted all around, scanning where the attacker had fled. Seeing no one, I turned around and cautiously approached the visibly upset female.
By now, shaking hands covered her open mouth and her eyes remained fixated down the trail, still expressing the look of pure panic. I popped my earbuds out that dangled, causing the music to sound distant and tinny.
The lady made me nervous as I approached her. I wondered if she was experienceing some type of episode from a horrid memory or suffering from a mental illness. I gingerly asked, "Are you okay?"
Still panic-stricken, she refused to make eye contact with me as she maintained her glazed stare at the trail. Slowly, she lowered a hand from her mouth and pointed with a shaking finger. With a weak and delicate voice she softly whispered, "Rattlesnake."
I turned to look where she pointed and sure enough, there was a decent sized snake right along the edge of the trial, partially concealed by the grass. I walked back down to it. Admittedly, I was annoyed realizing her bizarre behavior had me focus too much on her where I could have easily stomped on the snake and got bit. As I got closer, it coiled and began vibrating its tail where the signature sound was made. But, this sound wasn't totally authentic. The tail was sleek and pointed, not segmented into a bunch of individual rattles, and the imitation sound was coming from his mouth. Mr. Bull Snake does a great impression and has similar coloration, too.
I turned to the lady and said, "It's alright, it is only a bull snake," as I toed it with my sneaker. With the snake's performance being interrupted, it slithered towards the small creek below.
My touching the snake sent the lady into a trembling frenzy, or commonly known as "a freak out." She shrieked and danced in place with thrashing arms. Her out of control hands randomly touched her face, arms, torso and legs.
The snake may as well have been a King Cobra as there was no doubt that she viewed all snakes being deadly. If they did not kill her from venom, she'd die from a shock-induced heart attack. I felt sorry for her being so petrified of the snake, but I was not even close to having the necessary skills she required to overcome her fear.
Her self-induced convulsions started to concern me--kind of like a drowning person who unconsciously climbs high on a rescuer and consequently drowns the savior. There was no way I wanted the lady to scratch and claw her way on top of me to get away from the snake, so I cautiously side-stepped past her.
She had to have known such a chance encounter could happen while she hiked on trails and she could take a wide circle around the snake. So, I offered a few words while quickly fleeing from her.
"Gotta go....and good luck."
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