Tuesday:
The Mojave Green (Crotalus scutulatus) is the most poisonous rattlesnake in the Mojave, and as with all young rattlesnakes, the young one is the most dangerous. Adults have learned to control the release of venom on a strike to conserve it for hunting, but the youth have not realized this, so when they attack, they release it all. Adam showed us a young mojave green he came quite close to—he had been weeding on the other side of the bush for a half hour before he noticed it—and once again reminded us not to wear both of our headphones if we choose to listen to IPods, Zunes, or other music devices while working. (Note: Adam doesn’t, but many of use do.) Later, Melody saw a 2nd (huge this time) rattler. (Perhaps the small rattler was not quite as young as we assumed; apparently the young are born in July and August…)
Dusk is falling, and the wind is strong. Given the two rattlers spotted today, I think any nighttime wanderings of mine will fall off for a bit. I have only my small LED light with me, because the one that Brendan lent me is a power-sucker. For the first time, I brought no tent on a tour but just my sleeping bag. The weather is colder than I expected, because of the chill from the wind and our elevation, but at least I brought both layers of my City Year coat. When I get home to Illinois, I want to rebuild the firepit in the garden, especially now that I know what I’m doing. The “campsite” I chose has a fire ring. I had decided to sleep next to it, but the wind is so stiff that I created a lean-to from a pallett I found next to the fire, leaning it against the cedar I’m sleeping under, and braced by a close-by yucca. Gotta watch that I don’t impale my head on a branch of the yucca when I lay my head on my pillow.
… All tucked in now. I forgot my hat, but the NCC sweatshirt is hooded. I think I’m facing NE, so I should get some good sun in the morning. Regardless, I’m setting my alarm. Now, the wind is changing directions a bit from my left to from the open area at my feet. Oh well, my bag is rated to 0 degrees.
Wednesday:
My sleeping pad blew away. I don’t want to buy another one this late in the six months and have to lug or ship it home when I go. Maybe I’ll just use the Big Timber (Slumberjack) as a pad though it is much heavier and bulkier to bring on a tour. I want to bring both my fleece blankets next tour—one to drape if need be for a wind block and one to sleep with. The ground isn’t as cold at night anymore, so sleeping without a pad may not be too uncomfortable, but the rocks would make it so.
I will miss the Nevada night sky and the lack of humidity to grey out the stars. Night falls, peace fills.
Thursday:
Melody figured out she is strong enough to lift me, and when we stopped to wash the trucks on the way back to the field station on Thursday, she and Megan attempted to throw me in a dumpster. I wriggled free. Later she said she wasn’t really going to toss me in, but I’m sure Megan would have. Ha, ha.