By Jamie Rieger

Ophidiophobia-the fear of snakes. And, I am a an ophidiophobic and have been all my life. In fact, my first memory in life is a coiled rattlesnake, with its fangs bared. I have no idea how I have been able to recall this, but I can remember being in a room that had a big stone fireplace and hanging on the wall was a landscape painting. The painting was a desert scene, very dry with cactus and in the bottom left-hand corner of the painting was the coiled rattlesnake. And, I remember crying in fear.

This memory haunted me for years, so as an adult I asked my mom what it all meant. I can sort of remember going in the car down a dusty road to get to this place. As I was relating my memory to my mom, she paused and said, "That would have been when we went for supper at an old rancher's place. You were just a baby! We thought you just being fussy. How on earth do you remember that? You weren't even crawling yet!"

She was also asking how at such a young age, I knew to be afraid of snakes.

I do not know either, but I was and still am to this day. I think that when your first memory in life relates to a coiled rattlesnake, you are likely to have lifelong issues with all things slithery.

My encounters with snakes did not end there. When I was five or six years old, my sisters and I were collecting rocks in the field across from our house. I thought I saw a big rock in the tall grass, but when I picked it up it had a tail attached to it. I stood there frozen, holding the snake, but screaming as loud as I could as my sisters went running for help.

My mom and all the neighbours came running to see what all the commotion was all about, including one elderly gentleman who came with his shotgun. Okay, the sight of the gun and the thought of him shooting at the snake while it was gripped in my hand did nothing to silence my fears.

My mom yelled for me to throw it, so I did and that was the end of that incident.

Other than an occasional sighting of garter snakes in the garden, I did not have any terrifying ones until years later. I  had already begun my career as a writer when my work took me to an experimental orchard in the Empress area, an area noted for its high population of rattlesnakes. Throughout the tour of the orchard, I was keeping a close eye on the ground beneath me, just in case a snake slithered by. It was not until I was leaving to head to my next stop in Acadia Valley that my next encounter happened. I asked if there was a washroom I could use before heading out and the owners pointed me to an outhouse that was along the trail on the way out. I drove to it and as I was entering the outhouse, I saw movement by my foot. I let out a blood-curdling scream and high-tailed it back to the car. As I slouched in the back seat, looking out the window, I saw the snake come around. I thought that I needed to get over this fear and go get a picture of the rattler. And I was able to do that, but it was done from a distance and me close to the car. I drove off and did not stop until I got to Acadia Valley. Along the trip, I kept thinking, there was no way in heck I was going to use those facilities, but it certainly gives a whole new meaning to 'be careful or something will come up and bite you in the butt'.

I had another encounter with a rattlesnake last week as I was out and about taking photos, but this one was happy to be lounging in the warmth of the pavement and I was happy to remain secure in my car. I did get out, but remembering that rattlesnakes shed their skins late in summer and will strike at anything stopped me from attempting another snake photo op.

Hopefully, that is the end of my encounters with snakes for another year. I really don't think I could handle any more close encounters with anything slithery.