Unwanted Knowledge

On Sunday there was an article in the Boston Globe Magazine about the state of the rattlesnake population on Blue Hills. Apparently, it isn't in good shape at the moment because all the highways around the Hill are acting almost like a fence. Any snakes trying to get off the Hill have to either cross Rt 28, Rt 138 or Rt 128 and apparently they do not have a great success rate. However, the bigger problem than keeping the snakes from getting off the Hill is the fact the highways also aren't allowing any new rattlesnakes to get into the area. This has led to a lot of inbreeding among the rattlesnakes already there and resulted in generations of local rattlesnakes with weakened immune systems. Recently a rattlesnake enthusiast discovered a number of snakes in the area with a fungal condition growing on their skin and he is concerned that since the snakes clearly can't fight it on their own, this skin condition could be fatal to the rattlesnake population on the Hill. Reading this article I came away with one over-whelming thought: Hold the fuck on, there are rattlesnakes on Blue Hill?

As most of you know, I am not a fan of snakes. The last time I went hiking on Blue Hill I ran into a baby snake which was about six inches long and I nearly fell off a rock and cracked my head open in a desperate attempt to avoid coming within 10 feet of it. If that is what I will do to get away from a garden snake, it is pretty obvious that I am in no hurry to come across one which is actually poisonous. Frankly, I never even knew rattlesnakes were a possibility. In a previous post I wrote about how sometimes ignorance really is bliss, because knowing all the possibilities just leaves you with too many other things to worry about. This would be one of those times. This is exactly how I felt the first time I saw "Jaws" and found out there were thing in the ocean which could eat me. I'm sure the rattlesnakes are nowhere near the paths which people regularly hike on and I was more likely to be struck by lightning twice than I ever was to being bit by a rattlesnake on my last hike. However, I was closer to running into a rattlesnake than I was to finding something like Bigfoot, which was how close I thought I was before reading this article.

The naturalist (who is just studying the snakes for fun, as he is a chef by profession - remind me never to eat at that guy's restaurant) wants to know what the park services are going to do to help the rattlesnake population get back on its feet. Well, I'm glad he didn't ask me because my plan would be... hold on while I do my best Shatner impression... let them die. Because I certainly won't weep if I find out there are no more rattlesnakes in the area. Look, I am well aware that removing any animal from a location can do untold damage to the surround ecosystem. Every animal works together in one way or another and taking out a predator like the rattlesnake could lead to an uprising in some other animal that the snakes usually help control, which could change the population of another kind of plant species and on and on and on. Fine, I'll concede you that point. However, my counter-point to that argument is a simple one: I don't care. Dozens of creatures have been taken out before and nature finds a way to replace them and keep on chugging. On top of that it is not like this kind of snake is going to go completely extinct, just extinct from a place where I like to hike in shorts and low socks.

The problem for that rattlesnake enthusiast is the same one facing people who want to save things like bats and spiders - people are creeped out by them. Everyone lines up to give money when you want to save Panda bears. Never mind that they don't actually do anything useful in nature and it takes 15 scientists to make a new Panda - they are cute so people want to help. Even though the probably help the environment a lot more than many cute creatures, the only people lining up to help save rattlesnakes are the same ones whose house your parents made you skip on Halloween. It is just not an animal people tend to get behind. There is one silver lining to this, however, and that is it proves I have a right to be freaked out when there is rustling in the bushes along the trail. Sure, it might not be a rattlesnake, but now there is a least a chance it actually is. Comedian Mike Birbiglia used to say that the greatest day in a hypochondriac's life is the day he finds out he actually does have cancer - this is kind of the same principle. And what is nice is that I didn't even have to get bit to prove my point. I'm willing to go great length to win an argument, but even I don't need to be right that much.