Our meeting started early one morning at the Ranch headquarters located a few miles west of the Brazos River bridge off of I-20. At first sight, the Ranch appears as classic rural Texas digs; a dusty haven of tin and wood buildings, chain link fences and prickly-pear opuntia cactuses…with a few pigs and dogs standing guard. Of course immediately before stepping out of the Explorer to go inside, I caught myself checking the ground to make sure some of the 'livestock' hadn't made it to the parking lot. Can't be too careful, you know.

Bob soon showed up and introduced himself. A friendly, graceful and obviously experienced snake expert/guide, we proceeded into headquarters where Bob told us the story of how and why the Rattlesnake Ranch came to be, and before too long we were talking shop: snakes, snakes, and more snakes.

Our first encounter with the fanged variety of Texas wildlife came before we even made it outside (the majority of the snakes at the Ranch are housed in pits behind the Headquarters).  Sitting in an old aquarium on the counter (conveniently by the cash register…better pay the two dollars before touring the Ranch!) was a long, black Cottonmouth water moccasin. Bob explained that the Cottonmouth was one of the most dangerous of all Texas snakes, and to prove it, he pulls out a bucket of white mice. (Well, too bad for the mice, but better them than me. )

He explained that a moccasin uses its venom to feed, and about that time the snake lunged at the mouse, but did not attempt to eat it. Bob explained that the snake waits on its prey to succumb to the venom before it attempts to eat, whereas other snakes will just dive right in. What a civilized snake, I thought…table manners and everything.

Soon the tour went outside to the snake dens. These are impressive, folks: tens to hundreds of rattlesnakes, moccasins, and a variety of other Texas species all living together in reptilian bliss. So it seemed. Bob went on and explained that some Texas snakes crush and asphyxiate their prey much like a boa constrictor. Enter the mouse to demonstrate. Nothing will perk you up like watching a hungry snake do its business.

So when Bob offered to take us out in the field to see if we could find a snake, I was ready to go. I thought to myself, "We'll be lucky to even see a snake" so I wasn't overly concerned about a close-up encounter outside of those protective pits.

Five minutes later, a few hundred yards down the gravel road which bisects the ranch, Bob called us over. "See that rock?" he said. And lo and behold, in classic Crocodile Hunter style, he picks up the rock and voila! Instant snake. I never would have known it was there if he hadn't let us know. As far as I was concerned, we could have left the little guy there, but before I knew it, it was on Bob's hook, biting his boot ferociously. This guy is either crazy or really knows his stuff, I thought to myself. This snake was really pissed.

After a while, the snake calmed down, and it was really impressive to appreciate how close we live to a these reptiles and are often oblivious of it. All they wanted to do was hide until we left. I can appreciate that kind of self-preservation. Can't say I wanted to run away from him, mind you, but I wouldn't be against the idea with a snake dangling mere feet from my person.