Rattlers like knuckleheads and a runner

Milla Austin is not your typical rattlesnake victim. She wasn't drunk at the time of the attack and -- this is key -- she's not a knucklehead.

That's right: Experts say a majority of those on the receiving end of venomous fangs are young men who have been drinking and suddenly get the urge to grab a rattlesnake, often to impress friends. The rattlesnake is usually is not amused.

In Austin's case, she was out running with her husband, Gabriel, last August along a heavily used section of the American River bike trail in Fair Oaks, Calif.

The workout was supposed to be routine. Instead, the 31-year-old accountant wouldn't make it home for a week.

At one point, she thought she was going to die. And for several days in the intensive care unit at a Carmichael, Calif., hospital she fretted over the possibility she might lose her severely swollen leg.

Austin's frightening ordeal -- she eventually recovered with two legs intact, after taking 16 vials of antivenin -- is a reminder that even inside the city limits, rattlesnakes can't be taken for granted.

Warm spring weather means the area's rattlesnakes are waking from hibernation, slithering out of a rock pile or thick bush to sun themselves on a bike trail, footpath or roadway near you.

People who encounter them often call someone like Ramirez Rattlesnake Removal in Auburn, Calif. For about $150 plus expenses, they will capture snakes and release them in unpopulated areas.

"I've been busy for about two weeks," owner Len Ramirez said. "Snakes are temperature-dependent. When I start to see the wildflowers, that means the ground temperature is warm enough, and snakes start to surface."

While outdoorsy types often think about snakes, Milla Austin had other threats on her mind that hot August evening when she and her husband were on a five-mile run.

It was getting dark, and Milla was growing concerned for her safety. There had been recent reports of mountain lion sightings.

"I told my husband, 'I have a bad feeling. Let's turn around,'" she said. "I wasn't worried about a snake. I was worried about a mountain lion."

Moments later, she felt something hit the back of her leg. Then it happened again, only worse.

"The second time, I could feel the fangs go into my flesh," Austin said, recalling that she shouted, "I've been bit! I've been bit!"

The couple saw the snake, complete with rattle, and took off running, stopping at an emergency call box on the trail.

"When we got to the phone, all of a sudden my hands started going numb, my face went numb and my throat started closing up. I thought, 'I'm going to die,'" she said.

Rattlesnake bites are rarely fatal. But Austin realized she didn't know what to do and had not given rattlesnakes due consideration when she went running. Turns out, the cold-blooded snake is most likely to seek the warmth of the bike trail asphalt at dusk and dawn.

That fact cost Austin a hellish week in the hospital.

"I thought I would get there and say, 'Can you give me (antivenin) so I can go?'" she said. Her leg, however, continued to swell and she became violently sick, ultimately landing in the intensive care unit.

Experts say those blessed with common sense are rarely bitten. But give some people a few beers and soon they're showing off. With snake in hand, it almost never ends well.

"It's a nationwide trend. If anyone ever made a graph of this, you would see the line just spike at 18 and drunk," said Cyrus Rangan, toxicologist and assistant medical director for the California Poison Control System. "Usually, it's somebody doing something really dumb with a rattlesnake."

Rangan said people often respond incorrectly to rattlesnake bites. For instance, it's wrong to tie off the area with a tourniquet or put ice on the wound. As for cutting out the poison or, taking a cue from old cowboy movies, sucking out the venom -- bad ideas all around.

"All you are doing is cutting off your blood supply, and that's the last thing you want to do because you are introducing more injury to the area," Rangan said.

Milla Austin's leg has healed, and she's running again. She's off the river trail, though, if darkness is approaching. She's now more aware of her surroundings and takes her cell phone.

But the snakebite scare lingers.

Weeks after the ordeal, she was shopping in a Best Buy store when the back of her leg brushed against a plant. In a panic, Austin shrieked and retreated to the parking lot.

"The one thing I learned is I never realized how much your life can change in one day," she said.

(E-mail Blair Anthony Robertson at brobertson(at)sacbee.com.)

(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, www.scrippsnews.com.)