notes from the desk Saturday snakes

Author: Aylie Baker

"You wanna buy a snake?" ventured the shorter of the O'Brien brothers, emerging from behind a rack of fluorescent bathing suits and puce-colored dresses to poke his head into the tent. Too quickly, Dave looked up from the pile of '80s gym t-shirts he was pouring through and found himself holding the writhing black creature.

"It certainly smells like snake," he laughed uneasily. "You think this one's good," chimed in Sheila, abandoning a customer to join our small group, "We got two bigger ones inside."

The day began with good, however innocent, intentions. My friends and I had an early start (11:15 a.m.), grabbed a sufficient breakfast, and pilfered enough apples from Ross dining hall to tide us over for at least a week on the apple-a-day mantra. Bounding down to Ridgeline, we took to the road. Basking in Saturday bliss, we leaned out the windows, drowning any nagging "I-should-be-workings" with a throwback mix on loop.

Twenty minutes later, we realized we'd been driving for twenty minutes. Whoever said Snake Mountain was just off campus completely lied. After several failed attempts to find phone service, we opted to venture back towards campus with hopes of driving into network. No luck. Thirty minutes later, we were back at Ridgeline, getting directions from a friend, the fuzzy high of our first drive steadily wearing off.

Yet we persisted. We found Snake Mountain Road. After a near road accident involving a cricket, we decided to stop at Sheila's Garage sale where a lucky spotting of a bright teal onesie led to a thorough rummaging of Sheila's '70s and '80s wardrobe. After being delivered a set of collective of directions by the O'Brien family, we left ≠≠≠- still no snake - to find the mountain. A few wrong turns and a false start later, we had reached the summit, where we stretched out on the concrete embankment to take in the hazy view.

Truth be told, our morning adventure wound up spanning four hours. The hike to the peak took 45 minutes, not 25 as we had projected. We forgot water, missed lunch, and wound up with stomachaches from all the apples we consumed. Yet driving back, chased by that same O'Brien brother on four wheeler (doing 500 yard wheelies), the day felt perfect. So my advice? Don't Mapquest Snake Mountain. Bring your wallet, pack a lunch, and seek out your own family O'Brien.

Aylie Baker '09 is a Features editor from Yarmouth, Maine.