"DANGEROUS PURSUIT"
By. Chip Anderson
I can hear my mother calling from the house, frantic, worried a bit about me as we had just moved from the city to the country. I'm sure she was convinced either I wouldn't fit in or not being familiar about things like poison ivy or other rural hazards. I might get into some trouble. I should perhaps stick closer to the house. I was, after all, only six years old. But in truth, this is what I had dreamed about all my short life. And I felt more at home at this moment than I ever had in the city. With my mother's voice in the background, pretending I couldn't hear her, I continued my quest along the stream bed, turning over rocks and shore side logs, each on revealing some new treasure. Salamanders, wood frogs, crawfish, and a world of insects I couldn't even begin to imagine. Discovering a rough strewn pile of old fieldstone, probably dumped when this area had been a farm years before, I eagerly dove into the task of turning each over carefully. Toppling the largest of them back, I froze, breathless. My gaze fixed at what lay before me - prostrate, in perfect symmetrical coils, was perhaps the most beautiful creature my youthful eyes had ever seen - scaled, shiny, smooth, like a small leather whip or a piece of green and yellow jewelry. The ubiquitous, common garter snake (thamnosis sirtalis), but to me it was a thing of perfect beauty and the pinnacle of everything my six year old mind wanted to possess. I had read about such creatures and seen them on television, but right here before me was the living, breathing animal. I reached forward tentatively to touch the snake, but the moment was broken by my mother's voice, now louder and more insistent, a distraction, and the snake quickly disappeared further down into the pile of stone, out of my grasp. Disappointed as I was then, the moment remains with me to this day, thus the beginning of a lifelong fascination and passionate interest in such things.
It's 5 a.m. and I here I am again, sitting in a diner in the deep south, surrounded by leftover night creatures and other crepuscular denizens of rural America, dressed in my usual hunting attire, I drink my coffee and eat my eggs with that warm familiar sense of "I've been here and done this before, so many times." But today IS different. It's not November or December and the end game of the day's pursuit is neither white tail, mallards, quail nor even an elusive gobbler. No. Our sport today is for something different. A creature, not only shunned by most, but also greatly feared by many. In fact, I would venture a guess that most would think anyone purposely seeking it out would have to be several dogs shy of a full pack. Well, I can't argue with that opinion, but insanity would be no deterrent to this expedition.
Flipping through the channels on your local cable lately, it seems inundated with shows portraying some erstwhile Jungle Jim tackling, capturing or otherwise harassing all manner of dangerous reptiles. From croc hunters to cobra catchers, it's gotten to the point of saturation and all a bit silly, if you ask me. But who am I to complain? There's obviously a market for this stuff as they keep turning it out, and I'm usually right there watching it! But in the midlands of South Carolina, there exists outside of Hollywood characterizations, the Real McCoy, as it were, embodied in the six foot frame of one Keith Taylor, naturalist, outdoorsman, guide and unabashed rattlesnake enthusiast. Catching his first snake ( a large black rat snake) at six years old, he convinced his somewhat dubious father to allow him to keep it, as he tells it, he kept it fed on eggs pilfered from his mother's chicken house and his dad, although a bit squeamish, was nevertheless fascinated by the snake's ability to swallow them whole. And not a word was ever said about the fewer eggs in each morning's breakfast batch. Spending his childhood like most country boys, fishing, hunting, catching frogs and turtles, it was only a matter of time before he was to meet up with the creature that was to become his life's passion. At age eleven, riding his bike on his paper route, on the old state road outside of Columbia, SC, he was startled to come across the gold and chevron pattern of a large canebrake rattlesnake, stretched out in the sun. Love at first sight. As thrilled as he was to capture this prize, he tells me he was far more fearful of what his father would do if he knew he had caught it than he was of any possible danger from the snake.
As he grew up, Taylor took up taxidermy to make a living and to be around what he loved the most - being outdoors and in touch with wildlife and also giving the freedom in time to pursue his hobby-turned-passion that is hunting rattlesnakes. After forty years of doing just that he has developed not only a large network of plantations throughout South Carolina that call on his services, but he has created the first and only serious system for the management of snakes on these private lands - first to the benefit of these landowners, and secondly to the benefit of all wildlife management including the snakes themselves. After observing and participating in this program myself, it was easy for me to see why Keith Taylor is probably the most successful hunter of rattlesnakes anywhere and his numbers prove it. Over 10,000 snakes in the last 30 years - and he keeps meticulous records. Most landowners and private hunting clubs in the southeast have an interest in ridding or at least minimizing the number of snakes on their property, however most do not understand the ecological role that these snakes play. But Keith does and uses all of this to strike a balance between the landowners' wishes and to assist in the general wildlife management of these properties. Discovering years ago that all snakes love to use discarded tin or sheet metal to bask under, gathering the warmth of the sun to heat their cold blood, Taylor had a brainstorm. Checking with local junk yards, he started carting the used junk hoods of automobiles to selected sites on some of these properties, laying them down a few at a time in appropriate areas, he was surprised at the effectiveness of his technique. As he says, "The snakes are already there. This was just a way to concentrate them in a particular area, make it attractive to them." By proxy, the environment created by these shelters also attracts the wood and cotton rats in greater numbers who consequently get eaten by the snakes. As he tells it, one plantation had been having a terrible time getting its wild quail population to increase and has seen significant growth in the number of covies in the past five years. One factor has to be Keith's removal, during nesting time, of large numbers of chicken snakes, also attracted to his metal car hoods. That along with the predation of rats by the rattlesnakes has surely made a difference. The landowner is happy with the results regardless of the reason. Taylor's reputation has been mostly word of mouth, but over the years he now has over 2000 car hoods spread across thousands of acres of private land and hunting clubs throughout South Carolina, with new landowners calling him weekly about snake removal.
In 2002, Keith and his partner, Steve "Fluff" Barton, decided that with all the current interest in snakes, wildlife, extreme sports and adventure travel, perhaps the time was right to launch a new business venture. They inaugurated Black Water Rattlesnake Outfitters out of Cayce, South Carolina, which is how I came to find myself deep in the swamps on this spring morning, along the Edisto River.
I would guess that in this world there are few sounds outside of the oily snick of a pump gun in a dark room that can bring on that dead-in-your-tracks, stomach-gripping, low-voltage sensation as can the resounding buzz of a rattlesnake, unseen, but in close proximity to one's feet.
In the southeastern United States, there are three species of rattlesnakes. First being, the largest pit viper in North America, some specimens attaining lengths of eight feet or more. The Eastern Diamondback Rattler, (crotalus adamaentus) ranging from coastal North Carolina down through Florida and west to Louisiana, this is a potent heavy-bodied snake, relatively scarce these days throughout his range. Remaining mostly in Palmetto - pine scrub woodlands, rarely more that fifty miles inland preferring a coastal environment, it seems. One of the Holy Grail species, for rattlesnake hunters, and an awesome sight to see in the wild. Truly a magnificent animal. The second is the Timber rattlesnake and its low country cousin, the canebrake. Timbers range from New England to the Florida panhandle as far west as Eastern Texas. Mountain specimens vary from dark black to a rich, sulfur yellow with wide bands. The lowland canebrake variety is considered by many enthusiasts to be the most beautiful of the rattlesnakes. (Though I realize that this is quite subjective as I would imagine most of the known world does not consider any rattlesnake beautiful.) The canebrake has a grayish base with pink hues with broad obsidian chevron patterns crisscrossing its back and often an orange dorsal stripe running the length of its long body. The canebrake's beauty belies the reality that this is one of the most dangerous of snakes as their venom seems to be unusually toxic to humans, but like most rattlesnakes, they seem to prefer flight to fight and if left undisturbed are generally quite docile. Remember that venom is for providing food, not defense so it's not really in the snake's interest to waste it on this when simply remaining undetected or fleeing will do. The last species in the southeast is the tiny pygmy rattler, not often encountered, preferring to rummage through leaf litter and live an undetected life eating mice and small frogs. This snake also has a potent bite, but because of its small size, often does not inject much venom, but is still an interesting species, nonetheless.
With regular clients now traveling from as far away as New Hampshire, New York, California, Kansas and Florida, all to spend a day or several with Keith and his team. And not just overgrown little boys as one might imagine, as Keith tells me many wives accompany their husbands, enjoying the beauty of the southern woodlands. For anyone interested in an exciting day, filled with adventure, nature, and just enough danger to make your heart race a little, Keith's service is not to be missed. It includes breakfast and Keith supplies all the equipment, snake sticks, catch boxes, etc. (Although good snake boots or leggings are advised, you're on your own to provide them.) After loading up the trucks with coolers for lunch and drinks, you are off to any number of beautiful, private locations in the backwoods of the south in pursuit of adventure. On any given day, you will catch rat snakes, king snakes, corn snakes, the colorful, but dangerous copperhead, and cottonmouths are often in the daily bag, but the real trophy is crotalus horridus atricadautus - the cane brake rattler. The ultimate prize of any day's hunt! But with Keith's system and setup it is often possible to catch several cane brakes during the course of the day. Lunch is in the field and Keith and his partner will keep you on the edge of your seat with some hair-raising tales of close calls and wild experiences over the years as only people who have hunted snakes as long as they have can. Taylor is proud to say that though he has had some scary moments, neither himself, his staff, nor any client has ever been bitten nor does he ever take any unnecessary chances. This is reflected well in how he handles the capture of the snakes. He is very sensitive to their wellbeing and will not use any method that unduly stress them, preferring not handling, but using a snake stick to coax or lift them gently into a cloth sack or wooden catch box. This way the animal can be either maintained in captivity or released at an approved site with little effect on its health. During the course of my day's sport, besides rattlesnakes, I caught my first glass lizard and a southern hog nose snake (an amusing animal who insists upon playing dead, complete with open mouth and tongue hanging out, a ruse to fool predators) also a very irate baby possum (sic) who was quite indignant that I insisted on picking him up and scratching his belly.
The best season for a trip is March, April or early May. This is peak activity season for snakes in the southeast and also happens to coincide with one of the prettiest times of year in the southern low country. My time spent in the wilds of South Carolina in pursuit of these elusive, beautiful and dangerous reptiles sent me back to those days of my childhood before there were whitetails, before there were mallards, turkey, quail, before there were bird dogs, guns, horses, or hounds, there was just the wonder and amazement of a small boy who turned over a rock and discovered something wild and precious that would enthrall and fascinate him for the rest of his life. And this I know Keith Taylor understands.