The Two Hundred Snakes of Whidbey Island

September 5, 2007

I was hiking down a wooded trail some years back with two buddies of mine. It was on Whidbey Island in Washington, and our agenda was open. We each carried a coil of fishing line and some hooks in our pockets, as usual, and were headed beachward. Not difficult on an island.

A bubbling stream was just as likely to sidetrack us. If the crawfish looked plentiful, we might decide to go Cajun for dinner. Or just kill time chasing frogs. Once we caught about 50 frogs and released them all at once just to see them ride the rapids over a little waterfall. Looked cool.

Something new caught our imagination on this particular day: Snakes. They were everywhere. We couldn’t walk ten feet without seeing another one dart away from us. Harmless garter snakes, by the way. They had onyx eyes and beautiful coloured racing stripes down the length of their bodies.

So, what to do? We had only six hands between us, so we couldn’t really catch that many. But there was Angelo’s sweatshirt. Pulling the hood’s cord tight and tying the arms together, we made a decent-sized snake sack. Let the games begin!

I don’t recall it being a competition at all. We worked as a team to see how many snakes we could bag before nightfall. At first it was pretty simple. Take a few steps, spot the snake, scoop it up and bag it. Of course, after a while we had scared off or captured all the nearby snakes.

That’s when we switched to hunting mode. We spread out, walked well off the beaten path, and then closed in on each other. We managed to drive dozens of additional snakes into each other’s eager fingers. I remember holding 4 snakes in each hand – one between each two fingers – before I’d dropped them into the sweatshirt.

The snake sack was starting to get a bit heavy, so we took turns carrying it. Not a one was longer than three feet, and most were closer to half that length. We were surprised by how little actual movement there was from within. I guess the critters liked each other’s company and the dark confines of Angelo’s hoodie.

With 187 snakes in the sack and it being almost too dark out to see our way back, we had a major decision to make. We needed just thirteen more snakes to hit 200, and by gosh we were going for it! We headed back, but strained our eyes and ears for prey. We would stop in the path as one of us would make a semi-circle into the woods, driving an occasional viper out into the pathway.

I’m proud to say we caught exactly 200 snakes that day. Of course we had to admire our handiwork, and show it off. Norberto’s place was the closest, and there was a big cardboard box on the porch from a recent delivery of a washing machine. Perfect.

We pulled the snakes out by the handful, dropping them into the box in a careful recount. Yep, 200 snakes. I don’t think high fives were invented yet, but we exchanged plenty of wide, smug grins before heading home for the night.

The next morning we gathered by the big box to survey our catch. Empty. They had all escaped during the night, probably through a finger hole near the bottom. Or maybe Norberto’s mother had a fit when she found them there earlier that morning. We were only ten years old, and I can only imagine what she thought was going through our weird little minds.

About the Author: I haven’t seen a single snake yet in Vancouver, BC, where I create websites, write songs and stories, and produce videos for a living.