Back when my wife and I were dating, we went out camping one weekend at Grayton Beach State Park, on the Gulf Coast. There was a walking trail there that was marked as a sand dune trail. About a half mile or so in, the terrain started to change to more of a swamp, but we were still on the trail. I was actually keeping my eye out for alligators, when all of a sudden I heard a noise in front of me, and my future wife took off screaming in the other direction. I look down, and right in front of my sandal-clad feet was a Cottonmouth, coiled up, mouth open, and ready to strike!
If she hadn't run screaming, I may have just frozen there and got bit, but thankfully she did. I don't know if I took off after her more in fear or more out of concern for her. Since that day, though, Indiana Jones and I have something in common - I hate snakes!!!