How to Wear Snake Gaiters

By popular demand: the story of the snake gaiters.

One of the things that I love about travel is the novelty.  The taste of the food, the sounds of the language, the smells and noise of the streets, everything is different in a way that enchants me.  The other side of this coin is the challenge of not having my bearings.  I don’t know the best place to buy coffee or what neighbourhoods to avoid after dark.  The stores stock items and brands I don’t recognize.  Even a simple purchase like aspirin or a Band-Aid can be a challenge.

Travel is not just disorienting; it pushes me beyond my comfort zone.

Ever since I can remember, I have been afraid of snakes.  So afraid that if I see a picture of a snake, even a low-rez picture in a newspaper, I have to turn the page .  I can’t walk through the reptile display at a zoo.  I can’t read about snakes in a book.  The Indiana Jones movie with the pit of snakes?  I closed my eyes and counted to 100.

I know this fear is irrational because none of these situations puts me in any danger.  However, it’s been a relatively easy fear to cater to.  When I walk in the woods, I keep my eyes trained on the path ahead of me and scan for dark shadows and sudden movement.  This strategy has served me well, even in Australia, which has more poisonous snakes than varietals of grape.  In the last few weeks of our 6 months there I saw a sign at the beginning of a walk: “Beware of arboreal snakes” and I wailed to Julian “Snakes live in trees?!”

In my last post, I wrote about the beauty of Grasslands National Park.  Gorgeous rolling vistas of grassy hills that just beg to be tramped.  And signs posted everywhere advising “Watch for rattlesnakes.”  A leaflet produced by Parks Canada – complete with several full colour pictures — advises that snakes like to live in the grass, and that in the spring they like to live near wet areas where they bear their young.  Like the Frenchman’s River, which is just a couple of hundred meters from the campground.

I didn’t want to avoid those gorgeous hills.  And what’s the point of coming to the Grasslands if I sit at the campground all day or drive the park in the car?  Ever helpful, Parks Canada recommends snake gaiters, which can be borrowed at the Visitor Centre.

Snake gaiters are made of the same pungent canvas as the tents we used to camp in as kids, so the smell of them is reassuring.  You place the gaiters around your shins and zip them snugly up the back.  Laces are tightened at the knees and at the ankles where they meet your boots.  I modeled them for Julian.

“They’re gaiters.”

“Yeah, they’re snake gaiters.”

He pulled out the ones he uses when he’s hiking muddy trails.  After some discussion, we agree that snake gaiters are made of somewhat thicker material, which is probably just the thing to protect against snake bites.  This conclusion does not reassure me because it hasn’t occurred to me that I might be bitten by a snake – I was terrified just to see one.

Duly zipped and fortified, we stride off for a grasslands walk.  It is glorious.  We walk for a couple of hours through tall grasses and over rolling hills then up a taller hill to a spot where Parks Canada has thoughtfully placed a pair of red chairs (Canada’s 150^th Birthday – get it?) to better enjoy the vista.  It is fantastic.  And I don’t see a single snake.

Snake gaiters are best worn as a fashion statement, with an off the shoulder puffy jacket and sturdy hiking boots.

Oh, and Parks Canada would like you to know that if you aren’t foolish enough put your hand into a dark hole or onto a sunny ledge above your head, you probably won’t meet a snake.  But if you are bitten, hardly anyone dies from a rattlesnake bite anymore.