I don't know about you, but rattlesnakes scare me to death!
My lifelong relationship with rattlers started in Quay County, N.M. when I accepted the position of sports editor of the Tucumcari Daily News. I was a hunter in those days...
...and there were countless jackrabbits to hunt in the prairie land of Eastern New Mexico.
A typical Saturday would find me climbing into my little Ford, and driving to a ranch just east of town. The spread was owned by a friend who would host poker games on weekends in his spacious ranch house. His name was Ed, and he had a foreman who broke horses and who competed in weekend roping events at the Quay County Fairgrounds.
Ed was happy to have me trim down the jackrabbit population on his 20,000 acre ranch.
He would leave me with just two rules:
DON'T shoot any of my cows, and watch out for the sidewinders. Those snakes will get you.
After having a cup of strong black coffee with Ed and his foreman, I would take my single shot .22 rifle and a Ruger revolver loaded with hollow points, and head into the flat prairie country that seemed to go on forever.
I walked carefully, because I knew a sidewinder could blend in with the earth. Once I nearly stepped on one! Its warning rattles sent me flying backward, and I tripped on a barrel cactus before I dispatched the snake with a couple of shots from the Ruger.
Sometimes I would spot a large jackrabbit and wound it before it vanished into a hole in the ground. You had to be careful in going after a jack, because rabbits would share those underground caverns with rattlers.
Several times a year the ranchers would stage jackrabbit or rattlesnake roundups and would invite the local populace to come to their ranch for the day. The hunters would be organized into groups and at a signal -- usually a gunshot -- would start moving across the property after the reptiles or rabbits.
Rattlesnakes make a delicious meal when fried over an open fire, and the day would often end in a snake fry. The ranchers' wives would serve the meal to us with barbecued beans and coffee.
There were occasional accidents...
...and sometimes a hunter would get bitten and would have to be taken to the local hospital for treatment. Nobody ever died from the bites, although the venom could make them pretty sick.
Paul Velasco, a former champion boxer, hated rattlesnakes. A native New Mexican, he admitted they scared him to death. He always signed up for the snake hunts and would wear high boots while targeting the sidewinders with a sawed-off shotgun.
"I have nightmares about these snakes," Velasco admitted to me over a poker game in Ed's ranch house. "I'd like to get rid of all of them."
My artist friend Ted DeGrazia who had a studio in Tucson, AZ., loved to organize horseback rides into the Superstitions or other mountain ranges near Tucson and Phoenix. Along the way, we would find rattlers blocking the trail and we would dispatch the snakes, skin them, and fry them over an open campfire.
There aren't many jackrabbits left in the Southwest these days. The hunters, drought and other conditions eliminated their population, but the rattlers still exist in abundance.
There are a number of restaurants in Eastern New Mexico and West Texas that serve rattlesnake meat.
My advice is:
If you find one, be sure to sample it! You'll be happy with the results.
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
