I got up early for my third and final herping trip during our week in Tallahassee.  I headed south to the coast and then east a bit, over to Econfina River State Park.  I didn't have a clue what the area might hold, but it looked isolated on the map and that appealed to me.  It was another sunny day with the temperatures in the mid seventies.

The road to the park ended at the Econfina River, laden with charter fishing boats and warning signs for manatees.  I got my hands on a park map there, and located a number of hiking trails.  One snaked along the river for a few miles, and I decided to try my luck on that one. Perhaps a snaking trail might also be a snakey trail...

The soil was sandy and the dominant flora along the trail was scrub palmetto, with pines and a few live oak trees.  I moved slowly along, checking the open sunny patches for any serpents that might be sunning themselves.  It looked like good habitat for Diamondbacks and Pigmy rattlers, and either one would be a welcome sight.  I chased a large male Fence Lizard around a pine tree and managed to take his picture.

I walked about a mile without seeing anything more, and as the trail neared the river the habitat changed a bit, with the palmettos thinning out and being replaced with more deciduous trees like swamp oaks and magnolias.  The soil was now more muddy than sandy here.  I kept checking the open sunny areas, sure that any serpents of a cool morning would be found heating their bodies.

At a sharp bend in the trail the ground had risen a bit, and there was a large, open sandy patch in the sunlight.  The Diamondback was right there where I expected her to be, stretched out in the sun a few feet from an old gopher tortoise burrow.  She was splendid - over four feet easily, and as I slowly approached she cocked her head to look at me.

I back away a bit and dropped my pack on the trail.  I readied my camera and got out a collapsible snake hook.  I didn't intend to pin or otherwise harass the animal, but I wanted the hook ready in case she tried to escape before I could take her picture.  Contrary to popular expectations, rattlesnakes do not always immediately coil up, stand their ground and sound off with their tails; often they simply try to crawl away.  If this one moved before I was ready, I wanted to 'coax' her into remaining still with a gentle nudge or two.

The hook wasn't necessary.  Snapping photos, I half-circled the snake about six feet away, and only her head moved to watch me.  The dappled light was not the best for photography, but in the excitement of the big rattlesnake it was not the foremost thing in my mind.

At some point I crossed a line in the sand the diamondback had drawn for me, and she pulled her body into the classic position, her head elevated, her rattling tail draped over a fat coil.  I moved in a bit closer, perhaps a yard away, took a few more shots and then just watched her for a bit.  The last quarter of her length looked a bit pale and the dorsal pattern obscure; she was in the process of shedding her skin.

I backed off and stowed my hook in my pack, and squared away my camera.  The snake ceased to rattle but remained in position.  I decided to head down the trail again and leave her to her morning.  Another quarter mile and the trail dropped into an expanse of thick and sticky mud, and I decided it was time to turn around and work my way back.  When I returned to the bend in the trail, the big diamondback was gone, either down the gopher tortoise burrow or out in the woods somewhere.