Spring Creek Basin Mustangs

If you don’t like snakes, this post is not for you. Important note: No snake or human was harmed either hiking past or in the taking of these pix. 🙂

I’ve been looking for a particular band for about a week now. They showed up … then they disappeared again. That’s not unusual; even in only-22,000-acre Spring Creek Basin, there are lots of places for the ponies to roam out of sight of human eyes (and given the high ATV/UTV activity lately, including terrible, destructive off-road behavior, much better for them). But I was curious: Were they going south and taking advantage of the pond below/south of Round Top … or were they going deep east and taking advantage of the east-pocket pond? I’d seen water glinting in the RT pond a couple of weeks ago, but because of the very rough road and lack of loop access (because of bad washouts), I don’t often go back as far as the east pocket anymore (which is too bad because it’s one of my favorite areas of the basin).

So curiosity led to a hike up to the tip-top of Round Top. … From the bottom, I always say, “I’ll just go to the ‘bench’ and look from there … and then, if I don’t see anybody, I’ll complete the trek up to the top.” So that’s what I did. … You know I didn’t see anybody from the bench (well, I did see one band, but I knew where to look for them) and had to go all the way up. 🙂 It’s not a bad hike, and it’s really not long, and it does lift you high above the basin and gives TREMENDOUS views, and I love it up there. So I really need to do it more often. (According to my Strava details, it’s only 1.46 miles up and back, with an elevation gain of almost 360 feet, which included my brief stroll around the top to glass.)

I like to go to the different directions at the top – amazingly, it’s not that big – sit and glass. Not only is it fun to look for mustangs, but I like to reminisce about all the hikes I’ve done here, there and (almost) everywhere to find and get to them!

So I’d done my looking, and I’d even done some seeing of various bands that I’d already seen from “ground level.” But I didn’t see the particular band I wanted to see. To be fair, the view to the south is a lot more wide open than to the north/east/northeastish, so I was pretty sure they weren’t south at all.

The hike is enough of an exertion that you want to take your time at the top, and I’ve learned that if I *wait* and don’t get too impatient, something – or somebodies – might reveal itself or themselves.

Bingo. 🙂 I had stood up and stepped a few steps when I looked back *one last time*. It’s always that *one last time* when you see what you want to see! Way up in the east pocket. Boom; ponies. So I started the trek back down, half-running, eyes glued to the trail so I didn’t miss my footing. … I was within 40 yards (?) of the end of the trail and end of the road (which is where the trail starts, and this is a horse/deer/elk trail, not a trail-trail) when I heard the soft rattle.

It took a moment for the sound to reach my ears, to reach my brain, for my brain to process it, for me to stop my thoughts-elsewhere forward rush and to look back at the bush (small, a four-wing saltbush, maybe) I’d just passed. Was it entwined around the base? Uh, no. Then I spotted it. (I think I’ve written enough to warn you if you’re at all snake-squeamish??)

Do you see it?

The trail here looks more like a bit of an erosion channel than what most people think of as a *trail*. The pic is looking UP the trail – the trailhead (so to speak) is about 40 yards behind me – and I had come DOWN the trail. The bush isn’t included in this pic, but you can see the faint shadow of it over the rattler. The rock is immediately on the left side of the trail.

Because I was on a scouting mission to the top of Round Top, I had taken my binocs but not my camera, with its very long, very safe lens. So I took a pic first from “behind” the snake.

It seemed pretty relaxed, so I chanced a front version (you know, you CAN also zoom in with your phone camera!).

Interestingly about our little rattlers out here, you can see by its buttons that it’s not a super young snake. What you really maybe can’t tell from the pix (and no, I wasn’t going to put my hand out for a side-by-side comparison! oh, you silly readers! :)) is that it probably wasn’t more than a foot long. The rock in the first pic is bigger than my two fists held together.

What we have are the midget faded rattlesnakes (“western rattlesnakes”) or faded midget rattlesnakes (the recovering copy editor in me can’t stand non-consistent identifications! Looking at you, CPW). Check out this link to information from Colorado Parks and Wildlife … or this one from the Southeastern Hot Herp Society, written by a graduate student at Oklahoma State University. I was particularly interested in this little tidbit from the latter article: “The venom of the Midget Faded Rattlesnake is composed of a much higher neurotoxin than one would assume. … In fact concolor is the most toxic out of the (Western Rattlesnake clade, Crotalus oreganus).”

To paraphrase my dad (who likes bears): DO NOT MOLEST THE MIDGET FADED WESTERN RATTLESNAKES!

Seriously. I love them … from afar. 🙂 And in my experience, they are very (anthropomorphism alert) forgiving of random, idiot humans who nearly step on them in a brainless rush. … Pay attention out there. Every wild being and wild place deserves respect.

And because my day had an extremely happy ending, I’ll end it with this:

What an ending, right? 🙂 (And yes, I did find the ponies, and they’ll grace the blog in future posts.)