Ringtails and Rattlesnakes: Nature at its Cutest and its Most Murdery

"Murdery isn't even a word" you say. Well I'm not actually a writer so, "Murdery it is!" I say.

Twenty straight days of hiking is bound to yield some interesting experiences. The past few days brought two encounters from the animal portion of nature. Truth be told, I love to hike for the beautiful scenery and peaceful serenity. I am not so much of a fan of animal encounters. After all, they are the ones with the home field advantage in this potential death match.

Saturday was an exception to my innate desire to avoid animals while hiking. Jenn and I planned to hike Camelback Mountain early Saturday morning. Judging from the ridiculously long line of cars not moving more than a half a mile away from the parking lot, we were not the only ones with this plan. I guess 5 AM still isn't early enough to beat the weekend hiking crowd. Thankfully, this turned out to be a blessing because we changed our plans and headed to Piestewa Peak instead. The much less crowded trail is a very good workout with nice views of the city as well. Even if it isn't quite as challenging, I'll take not having to fight through crowds on the way to the top any day.

When we reached the summit, we did our usual routine of taking pics of the city skyline and the sunrise and of course Snap Chat selfies with the puppy dog filter (always adorable for those who aren't familiar). We spotted something on the opposite side of the mountain. At first I thought it was a ferret and assumed someone brought up their pet. After no one seemed to claim it or even care that it was running up and down the side of a steep cliff, a Google search of "wild ferret arizona" produce the real identity of the animal. It was a ringtail, also known as a ringtail cat or a miner cat.

I would come to find out these animals are nocturnal, not cats, more closely related to raccoons, and the state mammal of Arizona. Don't say my blog isn't educational. If you made it this far you learned something today, unless you're already a ringtail expert. In which case, kudos to you. Now stop reading this and start reading more about ringtails. The part that I loved was finding out that very few humans ever get to see a ringtail because they almost never come out during the day. This was another win for my get your butt off the couch philosophy. You may not ever spot an animal like this while hiking, but definitely will not ever see one sitting on the couch. Anyway, we got some great pics of the cute little guy.

Adorable: Photo Credit to Jenn for both pics

Monday would bring about a very different animal experience. We were out for another 6 AM hike on South Mountain on a trail we've done at least a dozen times now. We had entered the more secluded portion of the hike where the heavily trafficked trail hits a turnaround point for most, but we like to continue on for a slightly more difficult portion of the hike. Once we reach our normal turn around spot, we rested for a bit near some large boulders (including my favorite meditation spot which is why I'm not trying to give away much of the location info). We turned back to begin the way back to the main trail. About a hundred yards into it, I saw something that nearly made my hear stop.

Jenn screamed and sprinted as I glanced up to see the rattlesnake lunge at her with a warning strike. Thankfully, it was an effort to get her out of its territory not to strike her with venom. The snake split the path between the two of us and we stood in shock. I haven't included any pics for two reasons:

1. I don't want to take away from the adorableness that is the ringtail.
2. I was too busy trying not to defecate myself to even consider getting a picture before the snake got too close to the rocks again to take a decent one. 

These two experiences are a reminder of how great nature can be and how quickly it wants to kill you if you don't pay attention. But more than that the snake was a sobering reminder that I no longer go into these things alone. I understand that when I go out for these adventures, I'm placing myself in some slightly risky positions. I was tempted after it happened to say something like "maybe you shouldn't go with me on these hikes. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." But I know that would never fly. To paraphrase something I wrote in another story, though I can't remember which at this time:

We are crazy enough to push each other further, but sane enough to keep each other alive.