Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Back to the snake story...
So there we were poling our way through the unmapped Honduran Jungle, when crazy Carl starts to yell, "Muerte, Muerte (Kill it, kill it). It was about two in the morning and Kyle and I both were admittedly exhausted, our butts incredibly fatigued and a tad bit itchy (this may seem stange, but please consider we had spent hours wading through creeks and even more hours sitting on seats fashioned with a machete).
Wap. Wap. Up floats one of the world´s most deadly snakes
Kyle and I are now wide awake.
Carl tells us all that we are to be very careful. He then grabs the snake, which is still alive, with his critter-grabbers and proceeds to bring it towards the boat as if he were going to sit it on my lap. I don´t recall a whole lot after this, I may have passed out. Kyle later told me that I sat stone stiff.
Kyle sat behind me in the canoe and managed to sqeak out a simple three words that may have saved my life, "Kels. Scoot back." I came to my senses and soon I was sitting on Kyle´s lap, Kyle was sitting on one of our guides lap, and together we dared not too breathe or blink.
Carl tied the snake to a stick, took it back to the village, and later killed it.
The next day Kyle was brave enough to pose for a picture with it and I was brave enought to take his photo.
Just a day in the life of courageous jungle explorers.