Rattlers, ticks part of spring turkey hunting
Any hunter with a lick of woodsmanship could recognize the Ashe juniper was a perfect spot to set up an ambush.
And any turkey hunter afield in Texas during spring season should approach such a spot remembering that an ambush can work both ways. We are not the only hunters afield on Texas’ spring landscape. It pays to pay attention. The cost of not doing so can be discomfiting or painful. Or worse.
I picked the bushy evergreen from others along the edge of a wildflower-speckled opening in the Hill Country because it was thicker than most, with robust branches growing low to the rocky ground. If I scrunched in there among them and sat with back against the juniper’s trunk, the greenery and shadows would screen me from the searching eyes of the Rio Grande gobbler I was sure was headed my way.
I was in a hurry. The gobbler had hammered a response to hen yelps I’d scratched out on a slate call while doing a bit of midmorning walking and random calling, hoping to get a rise out of an unattached tom. He had gobbled twice more, sounding closer each time, as I stuck a hen decoy in the opening and scrambled to burrow into cover and try drawing the bird within shotgun range.
When I bent the juniper’s limbs apart and reached to clip some low-growing branches from around the trunk, I looked down and froze. I’d been beaten to the ambush spot; I was the potential prey.
I don’t remember if I heard that singular, unforgettable buzzing before I saw its source. Or even how I ended up several feet away from the tree. All I recall is that sound and seeing the western diamondback rattlesnake coiled at the base of the juniper, right where I had intended to plop my butt.
It was unnerving but not at all unanticipated. For turkey hunters during the spring season, such encounters with potentially dangerous wild residents are so common as to be expected. Texas’ landscape during spring — a magically beautiful palette of lush greenery splattered with wildflowers — certainly is bucolic. But it is not benign. Snakes like tent blinds
In much of Texas’ best turkey range, almost everything on the landscape will bite, stick or sting. That especially applies to the vegetation as anyone who has tangled with catclaw, backed into a tasajillo or hopped on one leg when a mesquite thorn poked all the way through a boot sole and punctured a foot will attest.
But those are minor annoyances. Two creatures, however, can be much more than that.
Rattlesnakes are one of them. Ticks are the other. These two are potentially problematic players almost every Texas turkey hunter is likely, if not certain, to encounter.
It is rare – impossible, maybe — to find an experienced Texas turkey hunter who doesn’t have a rattlesnake story or a dozen to share. Almost every post-hunt recounting of a spring turkey hunting trip includes a recitation of rattlers seen or not seen. (While writing this column, I received this texted field report from one of my brothers hunting turkeys in Frio County: “2 gobblers down . . . 2 LARGE rattlers … Hot. Windy. Green.”)
Spring finds western diamondbacks, like almost all wild creatures, especially active. Snakes are moving, hungry as their metabolisms amp up after winter’s lethargy, looking for mates and taking advantage of the mild temperatures that allow them to be comfortable and astir at any hour.
There is no predicting where a rattler will turn up. But some places and situations are especially worth paying attention.
Rattlers are ambush hunters, which is why the one I encountered was coiled at the base of the juniper, waiting for some mouse, gopher, lizard or other edible snack to come within range of venomous fangs. Check out bases of trees or the shadows beneath brush and rocks. Watch the edges of two-track roads. Clumps of cactus can be rattler havens. Don’t step over logs or brush or rocks without being able to see what is on the other side.
Wear snake boots. They work. Plus, they are great at deflecting thorns and cactus spines. But don’t depend solely on fang-deflecting footwear.
Be particularly careful early and late, when the light is low or absent. As turkey hunters are — or should be — in the field ahead of dawn, this can be problematic. Using headlamps or flashlights when moving in the dark should be standard if they can be used without spooking roosted turkeys.
The bottom line is simple: Don’t put a hand or a foot or a rear end anywhere you haven’t made certain is serpentfree.
That includes paying attention when using portable blinds. Many spring turkey hunters have taken to employing small tent-like “pop up” blinds made of sturdy, camouflaged fabric wrapped around a shockcorded frame. These blinds — basically, a tent with no floor — often are set and left for multiple days.
Hunters aren’t the only ones who find pop-up blinds attractive.
Rattlesnakes seem to like them, too.
I’ve heard at least a couple of dozen recountings of episodes where hunters have found rattlers in their pop-up blinds. One of my brothers spent a morning hunting turkey in a popup blind only to find, when he picked up the fabric sleeve to store the collapsible chair he was using, that he had spent the past three hours or so sharing space with an adult diamondback.
I have had dozens of rattlesnake encounters over almost 40 springs of chasing gobblers across Texas, other states and Mexico. I’ve come close to being struck only a couple of times. And I personally know only one other turkey hunter who had the misfortune to end up nailed by a rattler.
But the possibility is there. And hunters should have a plan of action if the worse happens. Elevate the envenomated area and get to a medical facility as quickly as safely possible. Don’t try to squeeze venom from the puncture and certainly don’t cut the wounds. Almost no one dies from snakebite these days.
But that doesn’t mean getting off without extreme pain, almost certainly loss of some muscle and flesh and a massive medical bill.
While almost no Texas turkey hunters get nailed by venomous snakes, it is improbable to find one who has not been a victim of ticks. And although these tiny, biting, blood-sucking arachnids might seem more a bothersome, itch-inducing pest than a real threat, they arguably pose more risk than the largest diamondback.
Ticks are vectors for a handful of dangerous, debilitating illnesses, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, ehrlichea, babesiosis and tuleramia among them. Those are bad enough. But Lyme disease is truly frightening.
Most Texans have heard of Lyme disease, the tick-borne disease triggered by a bacteria — Borrelia burgdorferi — that is transmitted through the bite of an infected tick, almost always a black-legged deer tick. The disease causes flu-like symptoms at first. If caught early enough and hit with a regime of antibiotics, most people can be successfully treated. But if Lyme disease is left untreated or misdiagnosed and undertreated, it can become chronic, affecting joints, heart and nervous system. Imagine debilitating arthritis with cardiac and neurologic problems, too. Currently, there is no cure for the chronic form of the disease.
Southern tick-associated rash illness (STARI), which is transmitted by bites from infected Lone Star ticks, is similar to Lyme disease in its effects, producing flu-like symptoms including fatigue, headaches and muscle pain. Fortunately, STARI doesn’t appear to have a chronic form.
All of these tick-borne illnesses are found in Texas. Lyme disease has been documented in Texas since the mid-1980s — a decade or so after it was “discovered” in the Northeast. Preventative measures
Lyme disease cases — verified cases — are tracked by state and federal health agencies. Over the past decade or so, Texas has seen about 100 verified cases of Lyme disease annually. But health officials readily say Lyme disease cases are significantly under-reported; actual number of new cases annually is almost at least double the official tally and perhaps much higher.
Here is a frightening statistic: In 2014, a research project that collected and tested blacklegged deer ticks in Texas found 45 percent of those ticks carried the causative agent of Lyme disease.
Black-legged ticks are found in much of Texas. So are Lone Star ticks, another major vector of tick-borne diseases such as STARI.
It is impossible for a Texas turkey hunter to always avoid encountering and becoming the host of a tick. The arachnids are on grasses and trees and shrubs and the ground, everywhere it seems.
Repellents can be helpful. Those containing DEET as active ingredient work fairly well against ticks for those who can tolerate it on exposed skin. Better is treating clothing and boots with permethrin, an insecticide. Neither makes a person bulletproof to ticks.
Checking for and carefully removing any attached ticks should be a standard practice for all turkey hunter after a day afield.
So, too, should careful attention be paid to any rash, bull’s-eye or otherwise, that develops around a tick bite or any fever, headaches, unusual muscle aches or other flu-like symptoms. If any of those manifest themselves, get medical treatment as soon as possible and make certain to mention, repeatedly if necessary, having been bitten by a tick.
None of this talk of rattlers and disease-carrying ticks should spook a person from spending time on Texas’ landscape during spring, chasing turkey or otherwise. Rattlesnakes and ticks are just as integral pieces of the mosaic of wild places as are wildflowers and long-bearded gobblers.
But their presence makes it even more crucial that hunters pay close attention to all things around them, understand what those things mean and react accordingly. That, after all, is the essence of hunting.