Hiking with the snakes
I don't know what it is about snakes, but they've always creeped me out a bit. Even with all the herpetology-friendly nature shows on TV these days, I still have an innate fear of them.
Fast-forward to the spring of 2011. My girlfriend and I decided to visit a local hiking trail near our home in Newark, Delaware.
It was a damp and muddy day, and there was a heavy air about the trail. Not more than 1/8th of a mile into the hike I turned the corner and nearly stepped on a fat black snake that was laying lazily across the trail-head.
Even as I turned tail and ran the other way, screaming like a little schoolchild, I knew that the snake wasn't of the poisonous variety, but that didn't assuage my fear in the least.
I've brushed up against snakes since I was a child; Blue Racers and garter snakes in Michigan, the black snake in Delaware, and I even stepped on a rattlesnake while on a fishing trip in Canada. You'd think I would be immune to the fear by now, but that is just not the case.