If I had been in the Olympics, I would own a few ounces of gold now. As I remember it, I jumped back to the bumper of my car in one leap. It seemed far enough from the killer monster with fangs, a 12 foot body, and Steven King eyes to relax and check my leg. The snake stood there (coiled and still pissed) and watched. There was one very small hole in my leg. . . and a tiny drop of blood. I'd been taught somewhere (BMTC?) that it was important to do four things: 1) Identify the snake. 2) Put a constricting ban on the leg, arm, whatever with light pressure and to avoid the urge to "slice and suck". 3) Remain calm (while those eyes still were watching me from 12 feet away. . .Get Real!). 4) Get to medical help! "Identify the snake". That was easy-- 12 feet long, saber tooth tiger fangs, a rattle, and Steven King eyes! As I wasn't sure that explanation would sit well with the experts, I looked again. O.K., so it was only about 3 feet long. It did most definitely have a rattle! I noted the shape of the head, the unusual (to me) stripe near the rattle and the color (GREEN!!!). I still thought it had those "King" eyes, but I'd leave that out of the Official description. "Constricting band" was tough. I'd packed for a San Francisco museum weekend. You guessed it. . . No first-aid kit. A bungie cord would have to do. "Stay calm". That was tough too. Even as I got back behind the wheel of my recently damaged car, those evil eyes were still watching ("I got you, evil-two legged-step on my back creep! I GOT YOU!!"). I could drive 20 minutes back to town, but I had no idea where a hospital, if it existed, was. Or I could drive 5 minutes further into the park to the ranger station. I chose the ranger station. "Get medical help". . . I entered the ranger station with my pant leg rolled up over my knee and a bungie cord wrapped double around my leg. "I just had an encounter with one of your rattlesnakes." "Did he bite you?", asked the ranger. "No," I thought, "This is the newest *##*%** fashion in San Francisco-- bare calves and bungie cords." "Yes, on the leg", is what I said. The ranger's reply may not remain burned in my memory as long as my first view of the snake (before he shrunk from 12 to 3 feet), but it made quite an impression. "Oh good! This is my first snake bite!" ("Yeah, mine too!", I thought.) He quickly added, "Sit down. I'd better call my boss on the radio. He can be here in less than five minutes." He put a blood pressure belt on my arm ("First time I've gotten to use this since ranger school"), declared me alive, at least for the time being, and we waited for the boss.

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