My friends and I were out camping having a blast.  Then we spotted a rattlesnake
under a rock.  We remembered it’s location, we remembered it well.  Later on, the
following day, we decided to go after the snake.  After my dear friend Ryan caught a
gopher snake and a small gardner snake, his ego was flying high.  His thirst for adventure
overwhelmed us all.  He was going to catch himself a rattlesnake.

    I decided that I would go with in case he got hurt, for my heart was in the right
place.  My friend Brandon tagged along with us also.  After hiking towards the location
of the snakes, for some reason I changed my mind.  I knew it was too risky to catch the
snake, so I told my friends,  “When we get there we’ll throw rocks at the snake, then I’ll
cut off his head with my knife.”  But my friend Ryan responded, “I’m going to catch it.”
Still hiking along, with different motives in our heads, we were where the snake was
before.

    The snake was still sheltered under the same rock.  We poked at it with sticks.
It’s rattle shook with warning and anger, but the snake didn’t leave that rock.  We tried
and tried, but there it stayed, still rattling at us in anger.

    After giving that up, I lifted the rock up.  The rock came crashing back down
allowing us enough time to see there was two snakes.  Again and again I lifted the rock,
and again and again it fell.  My fear was holding me back.  I finally decided to just move
that rock, and that’s what I did.

    With the two snakes exposed, we stoned the bigger one while the other retreated
to the nearby brush of tree branches.  After we hit the snake with several rocks, it stopped
moving but for a slow, painful twisting and turning.

    That was when I stabbed the snake right under it’s head.  The snake was dead, but
it’s body kept wriggling about like a worm even after I fully separated it’s head from it’s
body.  I took the snakes rattle off first, then I carefully cut it open carefully through it’s
belly.  Like gutting a fish, I removed its intestines and insides.  Last I slowly removed it’s
muscle from it’s skin.  While I was tending to my snake skin, my friend Ryan played with
the rattlesnake’s head and poked himself with one of it’s fangs.  He didn’t say anything
about it and I have doubts that it even ever occurred.

    Then we decided to go after the other snake.  We pulled branches out of the
brush, carefully watching for the snake.  After a short search, the other snake was found.
Then, finally getting into the action, Brandon stabbed the snake with a long stick.  The
stab was not fatal so we stoned it like we did the other, and as it tried to slowly slither
away, I reached out and chopped off it’s head in the same manner you would use an axe.

    I picked up the snake and grabbed his head, that was still attached to it’s body by
a small piece of muscle.  I cut the muscle, fully separated it’s head.  But at the same time
I poked myself with the fang of the snake.

    I grabbed a piece of rope and tied it around my finger.  Ryan and I pulled it tight,
cutting off the circulation.  Then I made it bleed as much as I could get it to.  Then I
rinsed my wound off with some water from my canteen.  With all the excitement I found
a packet of sugar that we dumped out earlier searching for something to use on my snake
bite and threw it down my throat.

    I grabbed my snake skin and rattle from the bigger snake and Ryan grabbed the
rattle from the smaller snake and they tossed the rest away.  I wanted to eat the snake, but
they thought I was crazy for it.  And after having the chance of having poison traveling
through my nervous system, I decided not to protest.

    We went back to camp and saw another rattle hiking back but for some reason
didn’t go after it.  I was hyper from the adrenaline in me.  I was running back and forth
like crazy and talking to people I didn’t know which really isn’t me.  The adults that took
us out camping became concerned after, three hours later, finding out about the
rattlesnake incident.  They decided to take Ryan and I down to the Health Lodge at camp.
The lady there put ice and a rubber band on my thumb.  She also had me raise my hand.
If I wouldn’t had told her that the rubber band was too tight and complained about it my
thumb could have been hurt more and maybe had to been removed.  I kept my arm raised
but you aren’t suppose to hold poison above your heart.  Now I know.

    We then traveled twenty minutes away to the hospital.  There they gave us a
Band-Aids and watched us for an hour.  Then we had Burger King and everything was
a-okay.  Except for the fact that my parents didn’t like the idea killing the rattlesnakes all
that well.  But I’m still alive and I don’t next time I’m planning on killing a rattlesnake,
I’m bringing a shovel and a shotgun.