I will never forget the first time I ever saw a rattlesnake out in the wild. I was hiking up the boulders near the Shingletown Gap trailhead with my brother, who was out from Wisconsin to visit. We had almost made it all the way to the top of the boulder field when a distinct but previously unknown to us sound shot through the air.
We both stopped in our tracks almost instinctively. There, about fifteen feet away from me, was a large rattlesnake, who did not look very happy. The sound we heard was, of course, the snake’s rattle, giving us a warning not to get too close. Yikes!
We were both a little rattled (pardon my pun), and, although we were close to the top of the ridge, we turned around and went back down the boulder field as quickly as possible with our eyes peeled. We made it down safely, and my brother went back home to the dairy state with a good story. But it took a long while for him to ever hike with me again.
I realized that day that I was going to need to overcome my fear of snakes and learn more about them if I was going to continue my outdoor adventures in Centre County.
It was probably my love of the Indiana Jones movies when I was a kid (still love them) that instilled my fear of snakes. After all, the intrepid hero archaeologist was not afraid of anything (not even Nazis), but he was deathly afraid of snakes. If you wanted to strike fear in the heart of Indiana, all you had to do was mention snakes, and he would immediately say, “Snakes, I hate snakes!”
And as a kid, I agreed with him. I hated snakes, but I never really was around them (unlike Indiana, who always seemed to get into situations with an absurd amount of slithery things). Since I grew up in a city, snakes were not a normal part of my life (I remember seeing a garter snake once and I shrieked in fear. Not my proudest moment).
Things have changed. As I became an adult who has learned to love outdoor adventure, snakes have become a natural part of my life on the trail. I have learned to respect them and no longer fear them (well, maybe a little).
According to the state-sponsored Pennsylvania Amphibian and Reptile Survey, there are sixteen different types of snakes that have been spotted in Centre County. You read that right, SIXTEEN! According to the Pennsylvania Department of Natural Resources, there are twenty-one varieties found in the entire state! Indy would not like that number, but it is actually pretty cool to think about. There is a lot of variety.
Now, most snakes, like that little garter snake that had me so worked up as a kid, pose no danger and are nothing to worry about. They actually play an important role in our ecosystem by eating small mammals and insects, including ticks.
Of course, Centre County is also home to two venomous (that’s right, venomous, not poisonous, look up the difference) snakes; the previously mentioned timber rattlesnake and the copperhead. A third venomous snake, the eastern massasauga rattlesnake, is found in a few western counties of the state. And while these snakes are a little scary, it is important to respect them in their natural environment.
Although copperheads are the most abundant venomous snake in the state, according to DCNR, rattlesnakes are the most common one that hikers might run into.
DCNR says that rattlesnakes are constantly moving through the forest, stopping periodically to hunt. You are most likely to run into them in upland forest with rocky outcroppings, crevices, rock ledges with vegetation, mature forest with numerous fallen logs, and young forests with lots of leaf litter cover.
Copperheads can be found on wooded hillsides with rocky outcrops near streams or swamps and also in wood piles, rock piles, and brush piles; in abandoned areas, such as old farms or foundations, and junkyards; amid other debris, such as stone walls and sawdust or rotting logs; and on large, flat stones, especially near water.
Copperheads have a reputation for being aggressive, but according to the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission, the copperhead is a quiet creature—some would say almost lethargic. They try to avoid trouble and look to quietly find a safe place when trouble might be present. Of course, if threatened and feeling the need to protect itself, the copperhead can strike out most vigorously, so that explains the reputation.
DCNR says the best thing hikers can do to prevent an unlikely bite is to be aware. This means you should keep your eyes peeled for snakes, especially before sitting on or walking over piles of rock, logs, or boards. Hiking poles can be used to probe for snakes along the trail.
As someone who is often on the trail with a dog, during snake season I tend to avoid areas that might be havens for snakes, such as rocky outcrops. In fact, there are some trails that I don’t step foot on until the weather cools and snakes are less active (like those Shingletown boulders). I also keep my dog close by and don’t let her wander off into the brush. Short leashes are best on the trail, not the long extendable ones.
One thing for sure, hike long enough around here and you will eventually see a snake. If you do, try not to panic. Maintain at least a three-foot buffer to avoid a strike.
And try to remember that you are on the snakes’ home turf, so give them their space and respect.
After all, snake bites are rare. Most occur while a person is trying to catch or carelessly handle one of these snakes. All of these species are usually nonaggressive and prefer to avoid confrontation. Thus, they often quietly move away from an approaching human or remain completely still and allow what they perceive as a threat to pass by.
So, I guess my brother and I did the right thing way back then. We gave that rattler plenty of space and didn’t get any closer than we needed to. I am always cautious on the trail, and I do not let my fear of snakes (thanks, Indy) get in the way of getting out in nature. One thing is for sure, I respect our slithery forest friends and try to be as safe as possible out on the trail. T&G
Vincent Corso loves exploring the outdoors in central Pennsylvania and beyond.
