I got it all wrong, Rye!

[Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172]

If you decide to go searching for steelhead, STAY AWAY FROM THE CHAGRIN RIVER!

 

Reported that they caught a 16 FT. PYTHON FROZEN IN THE RIVER!

Not sure I would be prepared for something like that.

Edited December 26, 2016 by Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172

[Eyesa Horg]

Yep, no place I want to be!

[Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172]

If you go, take a change of underwear.

[G W Wade]

Sounds to me BMC don't want you going to his new hotspot. GW

[Reuben McCoy Rankin # 34239]

Sounds to me BMC don't want you going to his new hotspot. GW

Exactly what I am thinkin!!!

[Sedalia Dave]

If you decide to go searching for steelhead, STAY AWAY FROM THE CHAGRIN RIVER!

 

Reported that they caught a 16 FT. PHYTON FROZEN IN THE RIVER!

Not sure I would be prepared for something like that.

Nothing to worry about now. They have all frozen to death. Save your worry for next summer.

[Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984]

Python fillets are going for $53/lb.

 

Rattle snake is over $100.

Edited December 26, 2016 by Marshal Mo Hare, SASS #45984

[Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172]

Nothing to worry about now. They have all frozen to death. Save your worry for next summer.

I can live with that.

[Pat Riot]

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/phyton

 

That is a really big plant stem...

[Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172]

Picky picky picky

[Reuben McCoy Rankin # 34239]

If you decide to go searching for steelhead, STAY AWAY FROM THE CHAGRIN RIVER!

 

Reported that they caught a 16 FT. PYTHON FROZEN IN THE RIVER!

Not sure I would be prepared for something like that.

You ever hear of Snow snakes?

Edited December 26, 2016 by Reuben McCoy Rankin # 34239

[Calico Mary]

sigh....Rye, please learn to keep your pets on a leash.....

[Sedalia Dave]

Snow Snakes are Hardpan's area of expertise.

 

In case there might be one or two who haven't suffered through this yet...

 

Snowshoe Thompson, Sacramento Slim, and the Sierra Snow Snake

Hardpan Curmudgeon

 

Bein' a man of gentle disposition, there were few other men that John "Snowshoe" Thompson couldn't get along with. But young Sacramento Slim was comin' close to bein' one of that small and exclusive group. Every time Thompson saw young Slim, Slim would be puffed up and boastin' how he was the best cowboy, woodsman, mountain man, or whatever that had ever been.

 

One cold winter afternoon, ol' John had stopped into the tavern for a hot drink and a bowl of stew, and was dismayed to see Slim was already there and had several of the locals on the verge of tears with his blowhard brags.

 

When John walked in, Slim turned to him, his face expressin’ delight at seein' a fresh audience.

 

"You there, Thompson! I was just tellin' these folks 'bout what a great hunter I am! Why, there ain't no critter up in them hills that I'd be skeered to tackle with gun or knife!"

 

Thompson turned his sad gaze on Slim, shook his head, and said "Why, Slim, I reckon there ain't. I'm sure yer a plenty tough hunter, awright."

 

"Thass right," said Slim. "So, Snowshoe, wit' all the time you've spend up in them mountains, whaddaya think is the most fearsome critter up there?"

 

A thoughtful expression spread over Thompson's face for a moment, and then he replied, "Why, Slim... I reckon there just ain't no critter up there I'd fear more than the dreaded Sierra Snow Snake. Nosir! Just the very thought of him gives me the willyshivers!"

 

Slim looked at Thompson, then real serious like sneered, "Yer joshin' me. Why, there ain't no such critter as no ‘snow snake’ anyhow! Snakes can't LIVE in snow, and ya knows it!"

 

Somberly, Thompson said, "This one can."

 

"Now, how can no snake live in snow? That's poppycock!"

 

"Why, Slim, the Sierra Snow Snake can live in snow 'cuz it's the only snake in the world that has hair! And in winter he has a nice yallerish fur coat to keep 'im toasty warm!"

 

Slim glared at him skeptically. "Then how come I ain't never heard of no ‘snow snake?’ Have YOU ever seen one?"

 

"Yup. Killed three so far."

 

"Bah! Killed three! Sure and likely! Wha'd ya do, shoot 'em?"

 

"Nope," explained Thompson. "Ya can't shoot 'em. Won't work. In fact, ya can't even kill 'em with a knife."

 

Slim snorted. "Is that so! And why CAN'T ya shoot 'em? Or cut 'em? And then just how in blazes DO ya kill one of them ‘wonder snakes?’"

 

"Well," Snowshoe explained patiently, "The Sierra Snow Snake is the quickest critter God ever created. So quick that if you try to shoot it, it can hear the bullet coming and dodge it. And ya can't cut it, 'specially in winter, 'cuz no knife can cut through it's matted fur. No, if ya try to do either, yer a goner! It's bite is the worst of all snakes! By comparison makes a timber rattler bite seem like a farmer's daughters kiss. Why, it's so bad, if he bites ya you'll be dead and yer body half rotted before ya hits the ground!"

 

"Hmph!” snarled Slim. “And then just how did YOU kill them three ya claim ya killed?"

 

"Why, there's only one way to kill a Sierra Snow Snake. I learned it from an ol' Miwok named Nuba. It's frightenin' to do, but it works. And it's the ONLY thing that will. What ya gotta do is ya gotta find one first. Usually on a sunny winter day ya might find one sunnin' hisself across a trail near some bushes. Then, ya gotta sneak up on 'im. And after ya sneak up on 'im, ya gets ready, then, fast as ya can, ya gotta grab 'im by the end of his tail with one hand, and before he can react, wrap yer other hand around him, press yer thumb HARD into his underside, and *ZIP* run yer thumb all the way up to his throat. That'll paralyze 'im and disrupt his internal organs and he'll be dead in seconds."

 

Slim' mouth was agape for a moment, then he blurted out "By Gum if there's such a critter up there I'll get me one and bring it back! I ain't skeered o' no silly snow snake!" With that he stomped out the door.

For three weeks all was quiet in the little settlement. Slim hadn't been seen or heard, and folks enjoyed the tranquility. Then one day, Snowshoe Thompson was sittin' in the tavern havin' a hot drink, when the door opened, allowing a flurry of snow to enter before it was shut behind the newcomer. Thompson looked up and was startled to see a horribly disfigured man standing just inside the room. He was propped on a crutch, a leg dragging uselessly behind him. His head was wrapped in bandages, and one eye was patched. One arm was splinted, an ear was lacerated, his nose was not in it's original position, and every inch of visible skin was scratched or bruised, or both.

 

The mangled apparition looked about the room, his one-eyed gaze finally settling on Snowshoe. Painfully, he clomped across the floor to drop into a chair at Thompson's table, fixing a weary eye upon the astonished man.

 

Horrified, realization settled over Thompson. "SLIM! My GAWD man, what happened to ya? Ya look like ya fell into a prospect hole full o' grizzlies! What HAPPENED!?"

 

Slim looked back at Thompson with a watery, pale blue eye shot with red. He took a deep breath, then, in a hoarse whisper, said:

 

"Snow snake."

 

"WHAT?" exclaimed Thompson. "Tell me, man! Tell me!"

 

Gritting his teeth, Slim took a deep, rasping breath, then continued with his subdued whisper...

 

"There I was. Up in the Sierras. My mule had run off, so I was afoot.

 

"I was snowshoeing along. The sun was shining. It was quiet.

 

"Then, I came around a bunch of rocks. And there it was. Just like you said. A furry, yallerish snake, sunning hisself on the trail with his haid under a bush. I was mortified! Then, slowly, I reached for my pistol. But I remembered what you said - he could dodge boolits. So, I reached for my knife. Then I remembered what you said about his fur can't be cut.

 

"So, I stood there, and remembered how you said was the only way to kill a Sierra Snow Snake. I gotta 'fess... I was skeered. I was REAL skeered! But I'd made my brags, and I had it to do. So, real quiet like... I snuck up on 'im. Then I got ready. Then... quick like a bunny, I did just like you said! With my left hand I grabbed him by the end o' his tail! Then I wrapped my right hand around his body! I dug my thumb into his underside as hard as I could! And just like you said, *ZIP* I ran my thumb all the way up his underside, pressin' in my thumb hard! Paralyzin' him and disruptin' his internal organs, just like you said!"

 

 

Slim paused and took a few deep breaths, a tear running from his eye.

 

 

"Then what happened, man!" Snowshoe demanded. "WHAT HAPPENED THEN?"

 

 

 

Slim looked back sadly...

 

 

"Snowshoe... have you ever... EVER...

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Goosed a mountain lion?!"

 

© Rod Chaney 1998

[Rye Miles #13621]

If you decide to go searching for steelhead, STAY AWAY FROM THE CHAGRIN RIVER!

 

Reported that they caught a 16 FT. PYTHON FROZEN IN THE RIVER!

Not sure I would be prepared for something like that.

FAKE NEWS!!!! It must have been on CNN!!

[Reuben McCoy Rankin # 34239]

Snow Snakes are Hardpan's area of expertise.

 

In case there might be one or two who haven't suffered through this yet...

 

Snowshoe Thompson, Sacramento Slim, and the Sierra Snow Snake

Hardpan Curmudgeon

 

Bein' a man of gentle disposition, there were few other men that John "Snowshoe" Thompson couldn't get along with. But young Sacramento Slim was comin' close to bein' one of that small and exclusive group. Every time Thompson saw young Slim, Slim would be puffed up and boastin' how he was the best cowboy, woodsman, mountain man, or whatever that had ever been.

 

One cold winter afternoon, ol' John had stopped into the tavern for a hot drink and a bowl of stew, and was dismayed to see Slim was already there and had several of the locals on the verge of tears with his blowhard brags.

 

When John walked in, Slim turned to him, his face expressin’ delight at seein' a fresh audience.

 

"You there, Thompson! I was just tellin' these folks 'bout what a great hunter I am! Why, there ain't no critter up in them hills that I'd be skeered to tackle with gun or knife!"

 

Thompson turned his sad gaze on Slim, shook his head, and said "Why, Slim, I reckon there ain't. I'm sure yer a plenty tough hunter, awright."

 

"Thass right," said Slim. "So, Snowshoe, wit' all the time you've spend up in them mountains, whaddaya think is the most fearsome critter up there?"

 

A thoughtful expression spread over Thompson's face for a moment, and then he replied, "Why, Slim... I reckon there just ain't no critter up there I'd fear more than the dreaded Sierra Snow Snake. Nosir! Just the very thought of him gives me the willyshivers!"

 

Slim looked at Thompson, then real serious like sneered, "Yer joshin' me. Why, there ain't no such critter as no ‘snow snake’ anyhow! Snakes can't LIVE in snow, and ya knows it!"

 

Somberly, Thompson said, "This one can."

 

"Now, how can no snake live in snow? That's poppycock!"

 

"Why, Slim, the Sierra Snow Snake can live in snow 'cuz it's the only snake in the world that has hair! And in winter he has a nice yallerish fur coat to keep 'im toasty warm!"

 

Slim glared at him skeptically. "Then how come I ain't never heard of no ‘snow snake?’ Have YOU ever seen one?"

 

"Yup. Killed three so far."

 

"Bah! Killed three! Sure and likely! Wha'd ya do, shoot 'em?"

 

"Nope," explained Thompson. "Ya can't shoot 'em. Won't work. In fact, ya can't even kill 'em with a knife."

 

Slim snorted. "Is that so! And why CAN'T ya shoot 'em? Or cut 'em? And then just how in blazes DO ya kill one of them ‘wonder snakes?’"

 

"Well," Snowshoe explained patiently, "The Sierra Snow Snake is the quickest critter God ever created. So quick that if you try to shoot it, it can hear the bullet coming and dodge it. And ya can't cut it, 'specially in winter, 'cuz no knife can cut through it's matted fur. No, if ya try to do either, yer a goner! It's bite is the worst of all snakes! By comparison makes a timber rattler bite seem like a farmer's daughters kiss. Why, it's so bad, if he bites ya you'll be dead and yer body half rotted before ya hits the ground!"

 

"Hmph!” snarled Slim. “And then just how did YOU kill them three ya claim ya killed?"

 

"Why, there's only one way to kill a Sierra Snow Snake. I learned it from an ol' Miwok named Nuba. It's frightenin' to do, but it works. And it's the ONLY thing that will. What ya gotta do is ya gotta find one first. Usually on a sunny winter day ya might find one sunnin' hisself across a trail near some bushes. Then, ya gotta sneak up on 'im. And after ya sneak up on 'im, ya gets ready, then, fast as ya can, ya gotta grab 'im by the end of his tail with one hand, and before he can react, wrap yer other hand around him, press yer thumb HARD into his underside, and *ZIP* run yer thumb all the way up to his throat. That'll paralyze 'im and disrupt his internal organs and he'll be dead in seconds."

 

Slim' mouth was agape for a moment, then he blurted out "By Gum if there's such a critter up there I'll get me one and bring it back! I ain't skeered o' no silly snow snake!" With that he stomped out the door.

For three weeks all was quiet in the little settlement. Slim hadn't been seen or heard, and folks enjoyed the tranquility. Then one day, Snowshoe Thompson was sittin' in the tavern havin' a hot drink, when the door opened, allowing a flurry of snow to enter before it was shut behind the newcomer. Thompson looked up and was startled to see a horribly disfigured man standing just inside the room. He was propped on a crutch, a leg dragging uselessly behind him. His head was wrapped in bandages, and one eye was patched. One arm was splinted, an ear was lacerated, his nose was not in it's original position, and every inch of visible skin was scratched or bruised, or both.

 

The mangled apparition looked about the room, his one-eyed gaze finally settling on Snowshoe. Painfully, he clomped across the floor to drop into a chair at Thompson's table, fixing a weary eye upon the astonished man.

 

Horrified, realization settled over Thompson. "SLIM! My GAWD man, what happened to ya? Ya look like ya fell into a prospect hole full o' grizzlies! What HAPPENED!?"

 

Slim looked back at Thompson with a watery, pale blue eye shot with red. He took a deep breath, then, in a hoarse whisper, said:

 

"Snow snake."

 

"WHAT?" exclaimed Thompson. "Tell me, man! Tell me!"

 

Gritting his teeth, Slim took a deep, rasping breath, then continued with his subdued whisper...

 

"There I was. Up in the Sierras. My mule had run off, so I was afoot.

 

"I was snowshoeing along. The sun was shining. It was quiet.

 

"Then, I came around a bunch of rocks. And there it was. Just like you said. A furry, yallerish snake, sunning hisself on the trail with his haid under a bush. I was mortified! Then, slowly, I reached for my pistol. But I remembered what you said - he could dodge boolits. So, I reached for my knife. Then I remembered what you said about his fur can't be cut.

 

"So, I stood there, and remembered how you said was the only way to kill a Sierra Snow Snake. I gotta 'fess... I was skeered. I was REAL skeered! But I'd made my brags, and I had it to do. So, real quiet like... I snuck up on 'im. Then I got ready. Then... quick like a bunny, I did just like you said! With my left hand I grabbed him by the end o' his tail! Then I wrapped my right hand around his body! I dug my thumb into his underside as hard as I could! And just like you said, *ZIP* I ran my thumb all the way up his underside, pressin' in my thumb hard! Paralyzin' him and disruptin' his internal organs, just like you said!"

 

 

Slim paused and took a few deep breaths, a tear running from his eye.

 

 

"Then what happened, man!" Snowshoe demanded. "WHAT HAPPENED THEN?"

 

 

 

Slim looked back sadly...

 

 

"Snowshoe... have you ever... EVER...

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Goosed a mountain lion?!"

 

© Rod Chaney 1998

Thats it, I've only seen one here in Kansas, but boy let tell you I did not hang around.

I mean I was gone like a scalded hound.

[Cypress Sun]

Hard to believe a little one like that was out in that type of weather.

[Texas Lizard]

You ever hear of Snow snakes?

Saw many in Alaska...Deadly things....

 

Texas Lizard