The Burren causes me to reflect on a camp, Brethren Woods, that I worked at two summers ago. I was the Craft Lady/Counselor. Being the Craft Lady was good fun, but being a counselor brought in the most rewards. When I say rewards I mean emotional growth, because some of those kids would chew you up and spit you out. It was all worth it. Being a child's guide through a week long adventure in the outdoors, camping out under the stars and cooking over an open fire (and actually being able to start the fire), it really struck something within me. Thus I decided to climb the mountain behind school today. The weather was perfect and the opportunity was calling. I made it up about halfway before coming face to face with the wild goat herds that inhabit the higher reaches of the Burren. We regarded each other silently before moving on. I will admit that images of being skewered and then head-butted down the mountain side to meet my wild-goat-induced-death did flash across my mind. Aside from the labor of climbing uphill, the goat encounter was the only thing to really get my heart pumping.
I realized that it is a damned good thing that Ireland has no poisonous snakes (or much of a snake population at all really). If there were snakes, the rocks of the Burren would hold a treachery that extends beyond the possibility of falling and breaking a bone. All this snake thinking brings me right back to Brethren Woods. The Shenandoah Valley is home to the timber rattlesnake. Go hiking in the woods and you have a very good chance of running into one. I have had this pleasure a couple of times. I have also come across black bears, which is admittedly more frightening than a rattlesnake. Thankfully, though, the first time it was just a cub (mother absent) who quickly ran away when he saw us. The second was a full grown bear but he was further down from the road and just kept on his way, we wisely didn't do anything to draw its attention. When I think about it there was a third time as well. I was driving along and by chance I looked out into one of the fields by the road. There was this lone tiny cub working his way across the field. The sight made me feel very sad, but I am digressing.
At camp there were plenty of rattlers. If we were to see one, we had to very calmly pick up our radio and say "There is a 'hot iron' at Maple Ridge/Cedar Cove/etc." We could never actually say snake because the radios are loud and the children would hear. Panic would quickly ensue. If it was a non-poisonous snake you would call it a 'cold iron'. However, the fact that no one has been bitten in the 52 year history of that camp, despite all of the rattlers you come across truly baffles me. I am amazed. I almost stepped on one when I was a camper there. Its long body stretched over the entire width of the trail. I know I was not the only camper turned employee to come across one. No one has ever been bitten. Excuse me while my brain boggles.
BTW: Rattlesnake when cooked properly is very tasty. We cooked one up when I was working there. A tad rubbery, though.
Pictures: One of the older groups I counseled, My co-worker eating food, Me eating food.
