Hot Ice

Trapped by a rattlesnake in an ice shanty

Photo by Zdeněk Macháček on Unsplash

Hands on hips, Carl Fisker stood ramrod straight, abrasions covering his face, khaki shirt and pants tattered and filthy. Six foot three, he cast a three-inch shadow in the blazing sun.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded.

After fifty-three seconds of silent contemplation, his hippieish partner, Bill Travers, suggested, “An ice…