Walking through the Garden of the Gods a couple of weekends ago, I was telling the story of my brother saving us all from a snake poised to attack us in the Great Salt Lake Desert.  …what’s that, you say?  I haven’t told you that story?

Well, when I was little, we moved from Chicago, IL to Fresno CA.  We had our own little wagon train going that consisted of my mother, older brother myself and the dog in my mom’s Ford LTD and my aunt, uncle and his son in their car (I’ve no idea what kind of car it was – probably something large like a Lincoln).  Anyway, my uncle’s car kept overheating, forcing us to make pit stops while we waited for it to cool down.  One such pit stop was in the Great Salt Lake Desert where we decided to wander around a little bit, us boys.

My brother and uncle were walking ahead of us as we wandered a little bit away from the highway and into the desert, when suddenly my brother was yelling for us to run, which, being kids, we did – my cousin and I hightailed it back to the cars where we waited for my brother and uncle to catch up with us.  When they did, my uncle was laughing his ass off.

My brother had seen a snake.  In a flurry of manliness, he grabbed a stick and proceeded to beat the dangerous beast to death so as to save us all from being attacked and bitten.  My uncle asked if we’d like to see the snake.  Impressed, we both said yes.

He tossed it’s carcass down in front of us.

It wasn’t a snake.

It was a bicycle chain.  One of those with the plastic sleeves on it.  You know the ones.

Apparently, it was lying out in the desert, forming an ‘S’ shape and looking very much like a snake.  We all had a good laugh over that.

Flash forward to the Garden of the Gods and this photo:

Is it or ain't it a snake?

Is it or ain't it a snake?

It definitely looks like a snake but it’s not!  It’s a root.  A cool root.  A snakey root.

…I didn’t beat it to death with a stick.