Deer season was opening soon, so my dad and I were out trimming shooting lanes around a food plot. As a kid, I’d learned to always watch where I walk in the woods. But I guess I wasn’t thinking, because I stepped into some knee-high brush without looking. The strike was the most unbelievable sensation; it was just so violent. I knew right away that a timber rattler had bitten me. When I raised my leg out of the brush, blood was pouring from the wounds, and I felt the pain almost immediately. The snake was still curled up in the brush, but I didn’t worry about killing it. I hobbled out, and my dad helped me to the truck.