Nature: Rattlesnakes are not something to be greatly feared

 

A timber rattlesnake is coiled in a greenbrier thicket/Jim McCormac

Nature: Rattlesnakes are not something to be greatly feared

July 6, 2025

Ophidiophobia (fear of snakes) is very common, and people take that to extremes with rattlesnakes, which are much persecuted.

Essentially, people and timber rattlesnakes do not mix, although the failure to abide one another is mostly the fault of humans. In essence, to conserve a fascinating part of Ohio’s biodiversity, we must have very large spaces mostly free of humans, and fortunately we do, thanks in major part to the Ohio Department of Natural Resources and The Nature Conservancy.

On June 21, Shauna Weyrauch and I met up with snake researcher John Howard in a remote southern Ohio locale. Our mission? Tracking a big old timber rattlesnake that had been fitted with a radio transmitter. It was uphill all the way as we gradually ascended to a dry oak-hickory ridgetop via switchback trails.

After maybe three-quarters of a mile, Howard fired up his receiver to check for feedback from the snake. Nothing, so we moved ever higher up the trail. Finally, nearly a mile in, we picked up faint beeps and honed in on our quarry. Nearly a mile and half from our starting point, we reached ground zero.

The transmitter beeps came loud and fast, and Howard pointed to a brushy tangle about 12 feet away and said, “There it is.”

We glanced over to see a 4-foot rattler slowly slithering away and moved in. The snake froze, as they usually do when they know they’ve been made by people. Timber rattlesnakes rely on excellent camouflage patterning to blend in with their surroundings.

In this case, we had no need to capture or handle the snake; the mission was purely to monitor its whereabouts. Howard had earlier relocated the animal to this locale, as it was headed to some habitations where residents were known to be decidedly unfriendly to rattlers. He was pleased to see that it was remaining in the wildlands.

This was about the 15th timber rattlesnake that I’ve seen, and it was one of the most impressive. It measured about 4 feet in length and probably weighed over 3 pounds. Howard estimated its age at 30 years or so.

One of the most impressive aspects of an old rattlesnake is the girth. The middle section of its body had a greater circumference than Arnold Schwarzenegger’s forearms at his prime.

After a bit, the snake, in a rare show of agitation, began rattling. From my experience, if not unduly bothered, they seldom do this. It gave us an opportunity to hear the surprisingly loud buzzing created by the rattles.

We soon decided our reptilian buddy had enough of our act and back down the mountain we went, pleased the snake was staying in unpeopled hinterlands.

There are only three venomous (not poisonous) snakes in the state, and only the copperhead can be locally common in parts of southern and eastern Ohio. Our other rattlesnake, the eastern massasauga, is a rare inhabitant of wet prairies, fens and other high-quality wetlands.

Deaths from venomous snake bites are virtually unheard of, especially in this day and age, due to better medical care and antivenoms. While the larger timber rattlesnake packs more of a punch than copperheads or massasaugas, bites are exceedingly rare.

One case happened on July 12, 1947, near Chillicothe in Ross County. Mary Ann Butterbaugh was struck by a rattlesnake that had hidden in her garden. She received prompt medical treatment, seemed to be recovering, but died six days later. Hers is the last known death by a venomous snake in Ohio.

Unlike people, chipmunks, mice, squirrels and other small mammals are justified in worrying about timber rattlesnake bites. Such animals are the snakes’ stock in trade.

Prior to European settlement, when Ohio was 95% forested, timber rattlesnakes would have been common nearly statewide. With the advent of settlement and ever more people, the snakes and their habitat suffered greatly. Now, only relict populations persist in a half-dozen southcentral counties.

I suppose many people would wonder why we would even want to conserve an animal like the timber rattlesnake. As I have heard more than a few times, when speaking of lesser-loved creatures, “What good is it?”

I always want to reply, “What good are you?” The time is long past for people to persecute those things they don’t like, or for which they see no personal value for and accept that other creatures have intrinsic value in addition to ecological value.

We have laid waste to enormous swaths of habitat and caused the disappearance or endangerment of scores of plants and animals. Over 99% of the original prairies are gone.

Well over 90% of Ohio’s original wetlands have been drained or otherwise destroyed. Most of our woodlands have been cut and developed, and most that remain are badly fragmented.

Intact large-scale vestiges of our forested past are all too rare, and there is no better symbol of wooded wilderness than the timber rattlesnake.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at jim mccormac.blogspot.com.