As we made our rounds to the wing barrels yesterday, we passed within three miles of the rattlesnake den. We were already running a little late (by heeler tummy clocks), but I knew I wouldn't be able to stop in on next week's route, so I turned off the highway.

Found six rattlers in the pit. Nobody out sunning themselves (been too hot for that). This time I snuck up and spotted them before they noticed me.

You can always tell when a rattlesnake is pissed off.

Headed above the pit and found who I presume to be the same youngsters I found there before. And then, just for fun, decided to head farther up the ridge.

Never been up that far.

Ran into several small snakes, all on the shady side of the outcrop. Got a good look at one, as it sidewindered itself up the side of the rocks.

It had a reddish tint to it. Never noticed that before. The lighter body was a pale pink, while the diamond patterns were a darker burgundy. After paying attention, I noticed the other youngsters were about the same.

Found where the rattlesnake killers had torn apart a major portion of the rock outcrop the snakes use for denning. The rock is thin sheets of red sandstone, and the snakes apparently squeeze down in between the plates. The killers had pried out more than 15 sheets in one spot, several as large as an impressive desktop. And all this slag had slid down to the bottom of the cliff (about 4 meters high, at this point).

An apparently successful strategy, judging from all the shotgun shells scattered at the bottom.

Found another small snake just uphill from the slag, and then heard a deep-toned rattle. Turned to see a large rattler drop into a small hole. And there it stayed, buzzing away.

About all I could see the rattle, but that was enough.

Nine buttons.

And we're not talking buttons that taper down to a point. This rattle has been broomed off. Button number nine is almost as wide as number one!

I'm guessing we're looking at somebody who has shed at least 15-20 times. An old-timer.

You have no idea how pleased I am to meet you.

Would have gotten a closer look, except for the four-foot relative stretched out on a narrow ledge just above head high. This yellow-green snake slid towards me and perched itself on a wide shelf above the old one's hole.

And assumed the cobra-strike position, buzzing fiercely all the while.

Not a very good survival strategy against anyone armed with a firearm. You need to take a lesson from the old one here.

Found a few more buzz worms as I continued up the slope. Only got nervous once, when I heard the high-pitched buzz of a youngster, but had no idea where it was. But it was close. Turned out to be in a sage just in front of my left foot.

Discovered one problem with exploring so high in the den area.

The tension of always watching the ground around your feet gets to you after a while. But there is absolutely no place to stop and take a rest. And you dare not let yourself just casually stroll. Not even for a couple steps.

And any way out takes you back through the snakes, with even more adrenalin being pulsed out. I really enjoy this, but I could have used just five minutes to sit and rest.

Found one newborn (yes, they're born, not hatched), buzzing away with its one button from a narrow crack that you could not get four credit cards into, underneath a piece of rippled flagstone.

I was gonna take that piece home for our walkway, but I guess not.

Not if it's being used.