The poisonous cottonmouth snake has long been a feared snake in my circle of friends, and stories have circulated that put the serpent on my list of fear as well. Stories of it being territorial and quick to strike always kept me on edge every time I came near a body of water. The snake is poisonous. I knew that to be a fact, yet text books always said that the snake is fairly shy, and will run when it senses your presence. Text books aside, I always worried that I might one day come upon this fat, stout snake at a most inopportune time. Little did I know that I would have an encounter with the cottonmouth, and find out first hand what it is like.
It was a sunny, summer day when my friend Donald and I went out to the dam to see if the fish were biting. While crossing the rocks, we were very careful to keep an eye out for any snakes because we had seen several water snakes in the area over the summer. These water snakes are quite testy, and will mimic the cottonmouth in many ways. The bite of the common water snake is not poisonous but is painful I am told. Not wanting any kind of snake experience, we were mindful of every nook and cranny that we were coming close to.
I was leading the way across the rocks, and taking in the beauty of the dam and streams around me. Visions of all the fish we were about to catch were filling my mind, and I was a bit distracted as I approached the final crevice that led to the large rock we often sat upon to fish. Without much thought I climbed upon the first rock and waited a moment for my friend. As I stood there, I heard a raspy, hissing noise that sounded like a leak in a raft or something. Frozen I looked around me and saw nothing. The hissing stopped, and I continued to look around for the source. Finally, after a couple of tense moments of silence, I decided that paranoia was getting the better of me.
As Donald caught up to me, he was laughing at my silliness, and joked that I was hearing things. I turned to step across the crevice between the rock I was on and the rock we fished off of, and glanced down between them. In the crevice between the two rocks, and only about two feet down in the crevice sat the fattest snake I had ever laid eyes on in the wild. It was curled up in a ball, and had it’s head in a “strike” position. I stepped back, as I knew the snake could strike from about half of it’s body length away and told Donald, who was stepping up onto the rock with me.
Of course, he didn’t believe me and went to look for himself. He glanced over the edge of the rock and jumped back immediately. He informed me that the snake was the biggest water snake he had ever seen. I informed him that it was no water snake but a cottonmouth.. We went back and forth about it for a minute and then decided that we should find out. We both agreed that a cottonmouth has a triangular head, and fangs, where a water snake does not. (though some water snakes mimic the triangular head, we found out later) We weren’t sure about the coloration, but we knew that the cottonmouth would often open it’s mouth agape when it felt threatened or it meant business. The cottonmouth has a white colored mouth, with fangs, and it is unmistakable when you see it.
We decided the most decisive way to find out was to agitate the snake mildly, and see if it would gape it’s mouth. Donald grabbed a stick from a nearby tree and went over to the edge of the rock, and looked over cautiously. He informed me that the snake was still there, and still in the same position looking at him. My need to ratify what I had seen moved me to a position beside Donald where I could see the snake as well. The snake slowly moved it’s head in my direction and froze in place. Any movement from either of us elicited a readjustment of the snake’s head to the one moving.
After a few moments of morbid curiosity watching, Donald finally went to give the snake a poke. Before the stick came within even a foot of the snake, it struck out with a speed that was impossible to see clearly. We saw blinding movement, but we felt the strike more than we saw the strike. It was that fast. We both backed up immediately and looked at each other pale as ghosts. After a moment of the willies, we looked over again, and there it was. The proof we had been searching for. The snake was still in a strike type pose, but was now showing us his white mouth.
It was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time. This magnificent creature was staring us down with it’s fangs on display. They looked like two tiny hypodermic needles sticking out of the snakes upper jaw, and little drops of poison was dangling from the tips. The snake was pissed and we began to feel very uncomfortable. After watching it for another minute or two, the snake finally made a move, and went under our rock. You have never seen two people scamper off of a rock so fast in your life! We went a good ways before we stopped running, and didn’t look back.
The cottonmouth snake we encountered that day was quite a sight, and we both never forgot it. We also never did go back to that rock to see if he still lived there. I have researched the cottonmouth often since then, and discovered the beauty of the snake, but I do not wish to see one in the wild again. It still chills me to this day that if I had stepped over that rock, it most certainly would have struck me. I know this based on the demeanor of the snake, and the fact I would have passed right over it’s head. Additionally, the snake already knew we were there, as the hissing sound I heard is now clear. I missed a bite, but man, what an experience!
