Venomous snakes don't get a second meeting with me . . . but I don't go looking for them. They die and that's the end of it.
Frog Gig for snakes?
- Thread starter skfullgun
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Whatever. That's like saying you carry a firearm (concealed or open) because you're scared.
I don't go out looking for snakes. If they're in their own environment then I have no problem with leaving them alone. That sentiment extends to a lot of similar things. However, when they end up in MY environment, one of us has to go.
Copperheads are particularly nasty because they are extremely hard to see. Their coloration blends in perfectly with dead oak leaves. I stepped on one years ago and I was looking right at it and watching for snakes. Worked with a guy whose young daughter found one on the porch and tried to touch it. Copperhead bit her finger and the doctors had to cut her arm open to the bone from her finger to her shoulder to keep the swelling from cutting off circulation.
Hunted with two brothers who grew up in Louisiana. As teens, they went out one morning duck hunting in a john boat. As they passed under a limb, a water moccasin dropped in the boat between them. The brother in the back yelled, "Snake!" The brother in the front turned around, saw the snake, and said, "I'll get it!" He picked up his shotgun and before the other brother could tell him not to, he took a shot at the snake. The snake was apparently not hurt, as it left the sinking boat. The guy in the back cursed at his brother all the way down. Then they had to drag the boat, decoys, and guns back out of the marsh, wondering if that wounded snake or his kin were in the water with them.
Copperheads are particularly nasty because they are extremely hard to see. Their coloration blends in perfectly with dead oak leaves. I stepped on one years ago and I was looking right at it and watching for snakes. Worked with a guy whose young daughter found one on the porch and tried to touch it. Copperhead bit her finger and the doctors had to cut her arm open to the bone from her finger to her shoulder to keep the swelling from cutting off circulation.
Hunted with two brothers who grew up in Louisiana. As teens, they went out one morning duck hunting in a john boat. As they passed under a limb, a water moccasin dropped in the boat between them. The brother in the back yelled, "Snake!" The brother in the front turned around, saw the snake, and said, "I'll get it!" He picked up his shotgun and before the other brother could tell him not to, he took a shot at the snake. The snake was apparently not hurt, as it left the sinking boat. The guy in the back cursed at his brother all the way down. Then they had to drag the boat, decoys, and guns back out of the marsh, wondering if that wounded snake or his kin were in the water with them.
History Lesson:
As am so damned old, I was killing moccasins before the 1958 widespread use of herbicides (yes, herbicides, not DDT) decimated our reptiles and amphibians in the rice-growing parts of the Gulf States' coastal regions.
I have missed thousands of snakes with revolvers & 1911's. A combination of a long stick for those nearby, and a .22 carbine for others works much better for me.
As for "letting them be", we have ten curious grand-kid visitors who aren't too snake-savvy on our rural acreage. I kill every venomous snake I can, if on my own property. There are plenty feral cats, king snakes, and indigo snakes to control our rats.
One of our most fun off-season sports back before '58, was to go "snake hunting". Four teen boys, or if lucky with some girls, would take an old pickup with external fenders, boat cushions, an ice chest, a wooden crate of .22LR's, and our ole Iron sight .22 rifles.
Every 100 shots fired, as counted by the chick in back who passed out ammo & coldbeer, would be time for a rotation: Passer-outer to driver, driver to left fender, left to right, right fender to passer-outer. Discipline was like on a range, excepting the coldbeer.
A typical weekend afternoon would chalk up some 2,000+ moccasins dead in our roadside ditches and small irrigation canals. Occasionally, in cooler weather, we'd use horses for our snake shooting instead of pickups.
Those who came later just can't even imagine the massive numbers of moccasins we had to shoot.
It was not rare for me to kill 100 from a small canal bridge, without moving. When shot-at, they'd submerge; but they's have to come up to breathe. The tiny heads, from 40' to 75' made for excellent riflery practice.
To this day, folks will ask "Why are you so sad all the time?" They are referring to my habit of walking with my head down. I must explain that, from when & where I came, I learned to carefully observe where to put my foot next to avoid a snakebite.
Yes, I always carry a handgun, everywhere, but it is not for snakes.
I hope y'all enjoyed hearing about "Old times along the Coast".
leVieux
As am so damned old, I was killing moccasins before the 1958 widespread use of herbicides (yes, herbicides, not DDT) decimated our reptiles and amphibians in the rice-growing parts of the Gulf States' coastal regions.
I have missed thousands of snakes with revolvers & 1911's. A combination of a long stick for those nearby, and a .22 carbine for others works much better for me.
As for "letting them be", we have ten curious grand-kid visitors who aren't too snake-savvy on our rural acreage. I kill every venomous snake I can, if on my own property. There are plenty feral cats, king snakes, and indigo snakes to control our rats.
One of our most fun off-season sports back before '58, was to go "snake hunting". Four teen boys, or if lucky with some girls, would take an old pickup with external fenders, boat cushions, an ice chest, a wooden crate of .22LR's, and our ole Iron sight .22 rifles.
Every 100 shots fired, as counted by the chick in back who passed out ammo & coldbeer, would be time for a rotation: Passer-outer to driver, driver to left fender, left to right, right fender to passer-outer. Discipline was like on a range, excepting the coldbeer.
A typical weekend afternoon would chalk up some 2,000+ moccasins dead in our roadside ditches and small irrigation canals. Occasionally, in cooler weather, we'd use horses for our snake shooting instead of pickups.
Those who came later just can't even imagine the massive numbers of moccasins we had to shoot.
It was not rare for me to kill 100 from a small canal bridge, without moving. When shot-at, they'd submerge; but they's have to come up to breathe. The tiny heads, from 40' to 75' made for excellent riflery practice.
To this day, folks will ask "Why are you so sad all the time?" They are referring to my habit of walking with my head down. I must explain that, from when & where I came, I learned to carefully observe where to put my foot next to avoid a snakebite.
Yes, I always carry a handgun, everywhere, but it is not for snakes.
I hope y'all enjoyed hearing about "Old times along the Coast".
leVieux
You need to kill the feral cats.
As a kid hunted and fished Bayou Vermillion and Bayou Teche ... hard to believe the sorry state much of S Louisiana is from corporate pollution of all persuasions since WWII.
I agree 100%. My late Dad always taught that.
But, the do-gooder's have made it illegal here in Louisiana.
Abuse of "domestic animals". But we know them as quail killers!
leVieux
No shovels, guns or suppressors in Louisiana.
Yeh I was thinking about that. Then that is what the gun is for.
BoomBoomcookie
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