Rattlesnake and Deer
Some memories stay with you because everything worked out exactly as planned. Others stay with you because they remind you how quickly things can go wrong. This is one of those stories.
It happened during my college years in Monticello, Arkansas, when I was studying forestry. Money was tight, groceries were running low, and deer season had just opened. Looking back, I thought I was heading out on a simple afternoon hunt. Instead, I found myself in one of the most uncomfortable situations I’ve ever experienced in the woods.
A Short Hunt With a Simple Goal
It was a beautiful afternoon in September.
Archery season had recently opened, and I owned a 60-pound wooden longbow that had been given to me by a family friend who could no longer draw it. The bow had a leather grip, a homemade string, and only a handful of arrows. I had practiced enough to feel confident that, given the right opportunity, I could make an ethical shot.
With groceries running low once again, bringing home a deer would certainly help. At the same time, after hours of studying forestry and wrestling with Calculus III, a walk through the woods sounded like a welcome break.
So I grabbed my bow and a few arrows and headed toward an old field not far from our trailer.
Crossing the Fence
The field was surrounded by an old barbed-wire fence that deer crossed regularly. Years of travel had worn a narrow trail beneath one section of the fence, but thick blackberry vines, cedar saplings, and other brush had grown around it.
The top strand of wire had become so tight that simply stepping over wasn’t possible.
Using my bow, I carefully pressed the wire downward while holding the bow firmly against it. With the wire barely low enough, I lifted one leg over and began stepping across.
The moment my foot touched the ground…
…I heard it.
The unmistakable rattle of a rattlesnake.
Completely Trapped
I froze.
The snake was somewhere beneath me, but I couldn’t see it through the brush.
I couldn’t jump because one leg was still on each side of the fence.
I couldn’t let go of the bow because it was holding the tight barbed wire down. If I released it, the bow would snap free, almost certainly landing near the snake and provoking a strike.
At the same time, the thought of rusty barbed wire snapping upward into my groin wasn’t exactly comforting either.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
I stood perfectly still.
A Very Long Half Hour
Whenever the rattlesnake stopped buzzing, I slowly moved one foot—only an inch or two at a time.
Almost immediately, it would begin rattling again.
So I stopped.
Then I waited.
Then I tried again.
The process repeated itself over and over.
As the afternoon wore on, the sun settled directly into my face. Sweat poured down my forehead, into my eyes, and blurred my vision until it became difficult to see anything clearly.
My arms ached from holding the fence down.
My legs cramped from remaining in the same awkward position.
The rattlesnake remained somewhere below me, reminding me every few moments that it was just as unhappy about the situation as I was.
During that long wait, I had plenty of time to reconsider my decision to go hunting.
Studying calculus suddenly seemed like a much better way to spend the afternoon.
Finally, an Escape
I don’t know exactly how long I remained there.
It felt like hours, although it was probably somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour.
Eventually, through sweat-filled eyes, I finally caught sight of the last few inches of a large rattlesnake slowly crawling away.
I waited until I was certain it had completely cleared the area.
Then, somehow, I managed to gather enough balance to jump.
One moment I was straddling an old barbed-wire fence.
The next, I was standing several feet away in complete safety.
Even today, I’m not entirely sure how I covered that distance so quickly.
The Woods Always Demand Respect
That wasn’t the only close encounter I ever had with a snake.
Years later, while inspecting timber stands shortly before moving to Alaska, I stepped over what I thought was a fallen branch.
Instead, my foot landed squarely on a snake.
The moment I felt it roll beneath my boot, instinct took over. Somehow I found myself standing several feet away before I even realized what had happened.
Working in southern forests teaches you one lesson very quickly:
Never assume the ground beneath your feet is empty.
An Unexpected Ending
After the rattlesnake encounter, I decided I had pushed my luck far enough for one afternoon.
I gave up on hunting and headed home.
I wasn’t moving quietly anymore, and I hadn’t even nocked an arrow onto my bow. My thoughts had already shifted back to studying before Peggy returned from work.
As I stepped out of the woods and looked toward our trailer, I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Three deer stood calmly just ten or fifteen feet from our back door.
For a moment, I simply stared at them.
Then I realized my bow wasn’t ready.
By the time I reached for an arrow, the deer noticed me and disappeared into the woods.
Just like that, the hunt was over.
Looking Back
I didn’t bring home a deer that evening.
But I also didn’t leave the woods with a rattlesnake bite.
Sometimes success isn’t measured by what you harvest it’s measured by making it home safely.
Looking back now, that afternoon remains one of many reminders that the outdoors can change without warning. Nature rewards preparation, patience, and respect, but it never offers guarantees.
In the end, I returned home empty-handed, grateful to be unharmed, and ready to get back to the calculus books waiting on the table. Sometimes, that was more than enough.