#103 Swimming with Snakes
September 18, 2008
A trip with Cole Peale-Grody to find the northern water snake on the North Fork of the Moormans River in Sugar Hollow results in enough close encounters that The Rambler learns to feel comfortable swimming with these non-poisonous snakes.
This show originally aired in September 11, 2008 on “The Rivanna Rambler,” a weekly public affairs show airing every Thursday at 11:55 a.m. on WTJU 91.1 FM or wtju.net
When we arrive at the informal parking lot at Sugar Hollow Reservoir, it isn’t surprising to find almost every available parking slot between the tall trees already taken. It’s a hot Sunday afternoon with moist air pushed northward by the hurricane – most are here to get cool, to swim or sit by the water. But Cole Peale-Grody, his father, Charles, and me have another goal. Along with another father-son team we meet here, we’re going snake hunting on the north fork of the Moormans in Shenandoah National Park, where today folks have filled every available swimming hole, mostly oblivious of the fact the they are sharing the cool water with the Northern water snake,
On the drive out Cole tells me that he caught his first snake, a ringneck, at five years and has been into them ever since. He likes them because they are, well, “cool”– like any passion words are not adequate for the deep attraction some feel for certain landscapes, or animals, or works of art. And, as Cole’s father explains, he’s also got the eyes. On outing after outing, Cole invariably is the first one to spot the snakes, whether on the ground, under a log, or draped over a tree limb above.
Since the river is so crowded, Cole says we’ll likely find them where the people aren’t. Though snakes don’t have ears, they can sense vibrations from sound and movement, so we start our trek up the river bed, rock-hopping from pool to boulder. Not as nimble as the guys, I’m well behind when I hear that the first snake has been spotted. As I round the bend, I see Cole already handling a slim dark snake about two feet long, with his younger friend, Drake, looking on. Turns out they’d spotted the snake on a small rock dam that had been built to create a swimming hole that is presently in use by another family, who are all busy scrambling over to see the catch.
We all gather around as Cole explains that the snake does have long teeth and will bite humans – but only if it’s been cornered or mis-handled. Perhaps it is unnerving to think that they inhabit the swimming hole here, but there’s really little to fear since these, as well as all other snakes seen in the water in this part of Virginia, are non-venomous and have no interest in us except to not get caught. If it hadn’t been for Cole’s keen eyes and quick hands, the snake would be nowhere to be found amidst the family splashing. And once caught, the snake slowly calms as Cole expertly hand over hands its long curling body. After awhile, it stops moving, and I have the opportunity to touch it.
Now, I fall into the category of those who would never consider catching a snake, let alone holding one. And though I understand that this snake is not dangerous, it’s still a bit of a stretch for me to touch it. But now that I’m in the second half of life, I’m inclined to go back and fill in the gaps of my experience. In spite of the slightly keeled (or ridged) scales, the snake’s firm body has a texture that is soft and cool. On this hot afternoon, the snake has as much need of the water to cool itself as we humans have the desire to take to the water for the same reason.
Eventually, since Cole is a practitioner of the catch-and-release style of snake hunting, he steps back into the water to let the snake go near the rock dam, and it glides into a dark wet hole in the wall.
We make our way up to a popular swimming spot where the trail crosses the river. Apparently, it is known as “Snake Hole,” though likely not by the forty odd folks who are congregated there today. And just thirty feet downstream, Cole spots another Northern watersnake sunning on a rock who is wary enough to remove itself before Cole can get close.
While Cole and Drake remain nearby in the hopes of catching this one, we adults walk downstream to a fine clear swimming hole filled with tiny chub minnows and immerse ourselves in the refreshing water. By this time, I am looking for snakes myself, not because I fear being in the water with them, but because I’m hoping I can start to pick them out for myself. I am struck by how quick and sure my own attitude towards snakes has changed just from a few hours of snake-hunting with a young expert. As they say, it is all about education, and fortunately, Cole is more than willing to share what he knows.