CONSERVATION WORK
Most of my conservation work is devoted to the Timber rattlesnake and Copperhead in New York. I began studying them in 2000 and committed fully in 2017, when field biology and photography became inseparable in my work. These snakes are often reduced to myth, yet they are precise instruments within their ecosystems—mesopredators that regulate rodent populations, reinforce trophic equilibrium, and embody ecological restraint. Their slow life histories and shrinking habitat make them vulnerable to fragmentation and fear alike. I write about them because observation is a form of defense, and clarity is a form of advocacy. My first nonfiction volume was revised in 2019; a second, intended for conservationists and students of herpetology, is in progress. All proceeds are directed toward habitat preservation and long-term species viability. The photographs below were made in the field in 2024 and 2025.
A History Of Working With Snakes In The Wild
After returning from living on the west coast in early 2017, as I continued to write fiction, I took up my old passion of searching for pit vipers in New York, which I have been doing since around 2000. This led me to new avenues of research, as the internet expanded and information and resources became more available and accesible. I began finding old newspaper articles on snake dens, and have since amassed over 1,500 historic articles on the subject. I also started learning about mapping software, and soon I was contacting various sources, old timers, people in the field of herpetology, to track down populations of snakes, gathering photographs and data with the intentions of one day writing a book on the subject. Things quickly started happening, and I found myself with a long list of sites to search for snakes; 10 sites I had visited since about 2000 had suddenly become 110. Then I went on a quest to visit as many as I could.
In the Northeast, the Timber rattlesnake and Copperhead—two of the region’s three native pit vipers, alongside the Massasauga of western New York—exhibit behavioral adaptations distinct from their southern counterparts. Here, winter dictates strategy. Both species rely on communal hibernacula, congregating in autumn within south-facing ledges, talus slopes, and fractured bedrock where geothermal stability buffers lethal cold. In spring, synchronized emergence concentrates individuals in brief windows of visibility—a rare convergence of biology and chance. Some dens host multiple species, sharing the same thermal refuge. These sites are difficult to locate and increasingly scarce. Fewer than 300 known timber rattlesnake populations remain in New York, with small, isolated numbers in Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, and a single remnant population in New Hampshire; the species is absent from Maine and Rhode Island, though it persists farther south in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, where winter aggregation is less pronounced and shelter is often solitary. The copperhead reaches its northern limits in Massachusetts and is declining in parts of Connecticut and New York as habitat fragmentation intensifies, persisting in stronger pockets such as the Shawangunk Mountains but thinning toward the edge of its range. In the Northeast, encounters with either species are uncommon. Their survival depends on protected den sites, intact habitat corridors, and continued conservation vigilance.
Before European settlement, Native Americans largely left pit vipers undisturbed, respecting their role in the ecosystem. With the arrival of settlers, attitudes shifted: venomous snakes were hunted and dens destroyed, particularly in the northern reaches of their range. By the late 1800s, snake sensationalism graced newspaper pages, hunting parties decimated populations, and private “snake clubs” collected specimens for curiosity or display. In the early 20th century, zoos and the emerging science of herpetology fueled further collection, while bounties persisted into the 1960s, especially around Lake George and northern Vermont. Most of this activity was legal at the time; laws protecting snakes only appeared in the 1970s, by which point many dens had been eradicated and populations severely diminished. Today, with global biodiversity under threat, the future of these species in the Northeast remains uncertain. Conservation requires persistance, and part of my mission is to illuminate this history and the urgent need for protection.
Between 2017 and 2020, I visited over a hundred sites, compiling my observations, photographs, and field data into a 475-page manuscript titled Rattlesnake & Copperhead Dens in the Northeast. It was conceived as a private, “would-be” guide—a personal archive rather than a published work. The first edition preceded my proficiency with mapping software and systematic data tracking, so it served as a comprehensive collection of site information for my own use. Only a handful of copies were shared with trusted experts, and a revised edition followed in 2019. The book has never been for sale and will not be, as it contains sensitive location data. My intention was also to consolidate these resources for submission to the New York DEC or other conservation groups that could use them to protect these species. In hindsight, given the vulnerability of the snakes and the sensitivity of den sites, I recognize the importance of restricting access; please do not request a copy of the manuscript or any location information.
As fiction has become my primary focus, I continue pit viper research on the side, aiming to produce a conservation-centered book and field guide for students, herpetologists, and anyone curious about these snakes. The work chronicles my observations, photographs, and scientific data alongside personal experience—without revealing sensitive den locations or anything that could threaten these rare species. Most people will never see these snakes in the wild; they are elusive, inhabit rugged terrain, and require patience to encounter. This book brings their world to readers safely, offering insight without the risks of field pursuit. If you do encounter them in the wild, local parks along established trails are the safest places; otherwise, they are most often confronted in urban-adjacent settings—roads, backyards, or hiking paths. The book, titled Guardians of the Underworld: A Private Look Into the Realm of Pit Vipers in New York, blends a coffee-table photography format with an in-depth scientific guide, combining history, behavior, and conservation in a single volume.
As my interest in wildlife photography and pit viper research deepened, the sheer volume of information became nearly overwhelming. By fall 2024, it took six months of relentless organization to create a system capable of managing over 1,000 Google Maps markers, hundreds of folders of site data, photographs, periodicals, scientific articles, and ongoing field notes. Reaching sites became an art: I refined techniques to conduct two to three surveys per day at peak season, sometimes spanning multiple counties or states, all while maintaining cameras and equipment and moving safely through rugged terrain—a balance of skill, patience, and respect for the forest. Between April and November 2024, I conducted over 220 surveys across 130 sites in six states, hiking more than 420 miles and capturing 14,000 photographs, including 41 timber rattlesnakes and 24 copperheads. Sightings of these species in the Northeast are rare, even within their limited ranges. My research also involved visits to institutions like the American Museum of Natural History, New York Museum, and Bronx Zoo, as well as consultations with over a dozen historic societies and countless field experts. Along the way, I earned a Master’s Naturalist Certification, continually expanding my understanding of conservation and natural resources. None of this would be possible without careful planning, reliable technology, proper gear, and the patience to navigate both difficult terrain and the inevitable challenges of working with creatures most people would rather avoid.
In 2025, I expanded my field efforts, deploying 20 trail cameras across 30 rotating positions at 25 sites from the Hudson Valley north to central New York to document the behaviors of Timber rattlesnake and Copperhead at their dens. Each camera captured footage every five minutes over periods of one to three weeks, producing more than 394,000 ten-second clips. I reviewed approximately 140 hours of footage, identifying dozens of snakes, verifying previously unknown or long-unobserved den sites, and documenting behaviors only observable through remote monitoring—such as copperhead nocturnal activity, movement during rainstorms, and interactions with other wildlife, including surprisingly frequent encounters with house wrens. I even recorded a rare congregation of baby copperheads over several days. Between April and October, I conducted 221 surveys to 66 sites across five states, hiking 340 miles, installing and retrieving cameras 119 times, photographing 129 timber rattlesnakes, 70+ neonates, 11 copperheads, and numerous other snake species. The season also included a trip to the Midwest, where I successfully located three historic den sites from archival newspapers, documenting prairie rattlesnakes in Colorado at a little-known hibernaculum. This intensive work provided crucial data for ongoing research and conservation efforts.
As I continue gathering data and the remaining photographs for my book, my experience deepens and I refine new methods of study. This year, several timber rattlesnake have displayed unusual inquisitiveness, showing little instinctual fear and allowing close observation without disturbance. The book may not be released for some years, as my fiction work remains my primary focus, but I look forward to shaping these experiences into a volume that informs, inspires, and supports the conservation of these species. Below are select photographs and video clips from my trail camera project, some of which will appear in the book. – Dylan Christopher, 2025.
Photographs: Rattlesnakes & Copperheads At Their Den Sites
Below is a collection of some of my favorite field research and survey photos of pit vipers in the Northeast and abroad, mainly from 2024 & 2025.
A timber rattlesnake from Ulster County, NY. 2024.
A copperhead from Ulster County, NY. 2025.
Timber rattlesnakes from a rare crevice / cave den in New York. A large number of snakes congregate here and remain huddled together on a rocky shelf in a horizontal cave before they retreat further into the rocks for the winter, and emerge again in the spring. Although never common in the northeast, I know of several extirpated crevice dens, and there were likely quite a few more, before they were wiped out in colonial times. There were also perhaps more throughout the extent of pit viper occupation in this range, over the course of many thousands of years. The second photo includes a black rat snake, third from right, which was interesting to witness, as I had never seen one at this site. The sizes of the snakes remain obscure in scale - all of them were heavy bodied, 3+ feet long. Also included is a photo of a rattlesnake at this site in January, on an abnormally warm day, and a rare ‘copperhead crevice den’, from a location in Shawangunk Mountains - a rocky ledge containing a long thin slit-like crevice at the edge of the cliff, above a multiple-species hibernaculum where gravid copperheads congregate in larger than average numbers to keep cool, and warm, in the summer. Photos from 2018-2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Photos of me in the field, 2025. Middle photo of me perched above a rattlesnake that crawled out of the small crevice den below to the edge of the rock, to sit next to me, not 3 feet away, then stretched out to pose, as I positioned myself on the rock above for the photo, exhibiting this rare behavior for any species of wild snakes. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
More up close and personal shots from 2025. Several females, with their newly born broods, allowed me to approach within several feet of them to get photos. The second, at a site about 1/4 mile away from the first, took such interest in me peering down at the rock from above her that she crawled up to take a look at me, then went back to her business guarding her young, aware of my presence, and not concerned about any danger I might pose. Also, a photograph of a mild-mannered rat snake that I saved from getting run over, in the spring of 2024. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
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More select favorite snake photos. 2012-2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Pit Viper Habitat
In the Northeast, snakes face harsh winters and rely on specific strategies to survive. Timber rattlesnake and Copperhead increase their chances by congregating below the surface in rocky refuges where sunlight warms the substrate enough to maintain body temperature. These sites—often south-facing ledges, outcrops, talus slopes, abandoned mines, scree fields, stone walls, or foundations—provide essential thermal stability. In New York, where timber rattlesnakes are endangered, it is illegal to harass them, with fines for those who fail to respect their space. If you encounter a snake, do not kill it; they are not aggressive, unless directly threatened, and perform crucial ecological roles. Please, do not attempt to locate dens—many are monitored, on private land, or within protected preserves. For students of herpetology or aspiring naturalists, the safest way to observe snakes is in state parks within their range: remain on trails, keep a safe distance, and report sightings to the New York DEC or the local wildlife authority in your state, or to the Heritage Program @ https://legacy.nynhp.org/report-rare - the snakes need your help. Below are some photographs of various snake habitats. 2024-2025.
Most pit viper dens in the northeast are now found far from civilization, due to habitat loss, collecting, and human presence. This is a photo of a rare timber rattlesnake den area just above a highway and near a river in central New York. 2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Common pit viper hibernaculum habitat, with crevices and rock piles to burrow in. 2024-2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
More pit viper denning habitat. The photo to bottom right captures some of the human behavior I run into on these trips into the field. While I do my best to get permission when I visit sites on private property, or permits on select public lands, sometimes I end up in places where signs point me in strange new directions (evidence in bottom right photo). I should also add, these rocky areas that snakes call home are few and far between. Most rocky ledges in the woods are not snake dens, but often harbor other important species of wildlife. 2024-2025 *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Vroman’s Nose, Middleburgh, NY. Fieldwork often reveals stark contrasts—beautiful landscapes alongside the harsher realities of human-altered environments. Some mapped sites surprise me, and occasionally I return to places long absent of snakes. This location, overlooking the northern Catskills, is one of those remarkable vistas. Its habitat is unusual for Timber rattlesnake: talus slopes of small shale fragments, plate-like loose rocks, and few top-ledge crevices. Yet this ridge was once called Ou-con-ge-na by local Native Americans—“Rattlesnake Mountain” or “Mountain of Snakes.” The slopes were historically abundant with rattlesnakes, likely extirpated by European settlers in the 1700s, with populations gone by the mid-1800s. Today, it stands as a quiet tourist spot, mostly known to locals, often unaware of the rich ecological and cultural history hidden in its rocks. 2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
More On Habitat, Crevice Dens, Ledge Mysteries & Conservation Work
Snakes hibernate communally in the Northeast, which makes them especially vulnerable—easier to locate in spring and fall for anyone who knows where to look. Historically, this made venomous species easy targets for colonists, who lacked medical treatments and often could not distinguish a Timber rattlesnake from a harmless garter snake. Many dens were destroyed, burned, or collected for private trade. Poaching persisted into the late 20th century, most notoriously by an individual who removed thousands of timber rattlesnakes from northeastern dens, housing them in a makeshift pen in Pennsylvania and selling both snakes and maps to collectors worldwide. Ironically, he revealed to me the location of my first observed timber rattlesnake, even as his actions were illegal; he was eventually arrested, thanks in part to his own former protege, who became a leading field researcher on timber rattlesnakes. Today, poaching has declined thanks to rigorous efforts by the New York DEC and other conservation groups, though internet-driven curiosity still leads some into the woods. Human presence—even tolerated by snakes—alters habitat, much like muddy shoes transforming a living room. Den sites are delicate ecosystems, which is why protecting them from development and unpermitted visitation is essential. Naturalists, students, and licensed researchers can obtain special permits, but public disclosure remains dangerous. Crevice and cave dens are among the rarest hibernation sites in the Northeast—long shelf-like cracks in rock walls where snakes cluster in winter. Historically, these dens were eradicated first because their dense, easily rounded-up populations made them vulnerable. One such den in Colorado, which I visited during the spring of 2025, reportedly resembled an oriental carpet of timber rattlesnakes across the cave floor. The combination of large-bodied snakes and confined space made these sites prime targets. Below are photographs of crevice dens and my notes on the unique ecology of these rocky ledges in northeastern forests, offering insight into both their natural history and the conservation challenges they face.
​The first photo is of Dr. Raymond L. Ditmars, a herpetologist, zoologist and head curator of reptiles at the Bronx Zoo (Then called the The New York Zoological Society) in the late 1800s, when it first opened, through the early 1900s. He was the biggest name zoologist in the public eye and one of the more outspoken herpetologists of his time, giving public lectures, and often appearing in newspapers to answer questions about snakes from readers, an in particular, in writings on his adventures collecting snakes, in full page newspaper spreads and in books that he wrote on reptile hunting expeditons, many of them at sites in the northeast. This photo shows him lying down at a site called the 'Crystal Lake Den', which is a rocky shelf on the edge of a pristine lake in the southern tier of New York. At ground level, and ten feet from the water, timber rattlesnakes made their home in the cave-like crevice with slabs of fractured stone, that Ditmars is seen lying on, likely around 1915, the same rock as seen in the second photo, which I took when visiting the site in 2019. The area was on the property of a boy scout camp, which remains, and soon the young boy scouts were involved, being paid a bounty to collect them for the zoo. This got out of hand and within 15 or so years, all of the snakes were gone, as evident in the third photo - an article on the collecting of the snakes, before the collectors knew thatthey were well on their way to wiping out the entire population. A sad tale, it seems the solution is to reintroduce the snakes to this amazing and unique site – but most of the parents of our nation’s next bright leaders, don’t feel the same way. Still, the possibility remains for justice for these creatures that called this unique ledge their home for many thousands of years, and my hopes, in the future, is to organize efforts to relocate the boy scout camp (there are literally thousands of acres of unused space in the surrounding area, to better protect both the snakes and the kids.) *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
The five photos above document some of the rare and extirpated cave-style crevice dens of New York. The first shows the last remaining den of its kind, while the second captures an extirpated site I located through historic research, still littered with Depression-era furniture and rusted machinery from when migrant families inhabited the ledges after snakes were eradicated. Another depicts a ledge in the northern Shawangunks, now near a town and a main road, likely a former crevice den based on historical accounts of copperheads and timber rattlesnakes there 150 years ago. An extirpated 'true cave den' in Columbia County shows a ground-level entrance beneath the ledges; today it is a simple ledge visited by spelunkers, with most knowledge preserved in Susan Warner’s 1852 novel Queechy, recounting 1830s eradication events, including a small dog killed by multiple bites while hunting snakes. The final photo shows a small cave-style crevice along a central New York ledge, part of a two-mile ridge harboring the only timber rattlesnakes within forty miles. Though a deeper cavity appears ideal for hibernation, the snakes have avoided it, likely due to shade, though historical records suggest it may have housed snakes centuries ago. Together, these images reveal the ecological specificity, historical loss, and fragility of these rare habitats. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
These two photos from Ulster County, NY, offer another fascinating glimpse into crevice dens. The first, from the Marlboro Mountains, shows thin stacks of slab stones along the bottom of a crevice—shards clearly placed by human hands. Timber rattlesnakes once inhabited the mountains, with verified sightings as recently as the 1980s, and copperheads and black snakes persist along the edges and rocky outcrops I’ve surveyed extensively. Exploring thirty-five outcrops over four miles, I eventually stumbled upon a small, well-hidden ledge system that displayed all the features of horizontal crevice-cave dens, but with the unusual addition of stacked stones partially blocking the opening. My theory is that settlers, perhaps a century or two ago, attempted to prevent snakes from emerging, possibly after failed efforts with fire or other means. The opening is narrower than typical crevice dens, and cracks may have been filled with mud, suggesting a laborious but imperfect attempt to deter the rattlesnakes. The second photo, a small flat rock about twelve feet long on another hill in Ulster County, shows a similar human alteration: small stones placed inside a crevice, with circular shapes above resembling eyes, giving the appearance of a monstrous face. Whether created by settlers, curious hikers, or even as a Native American ceremonial warning, the intent remains a mystery. Both sites reveal how human activity has intersected with snake habitat over centuries, adding layers of history, folklore, and speculation to the study of these remarkable reptiles—insights I explore further in my upcoming book.
*CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Blue Mountains, Australia Trip 2024
In 2024, after applying to several international artist residencies, I was thrilled to be accepted to many of my top choices—Greece, Belgium, Serbia, South Africa, the Canary Islands, and Australia. With time for only one, I chose Australia, attending the BigCi Artist’s Residency in Bilpin, 75 miles northwest of Sydney, to illustrate my environmentally themed novel Igador Roots over the course of a month. The residency offered a beautiful, clean workspace and welcoming hosts, and I spent my free time exploring the outback—one of the most striking landscapes I’ve ever seen. Naturally, I couldn’t resist searching for wildlife: I encountered two deadly tiger snakes, three venomous black snakes (one of which I found freshly run over on the road and was able to examine closely), a carpet python, numerous lizards, and a variety of native marsupials. These excursions sometimes interrupted my work, but I completed the project, culminating in a well-attended Opening Day Exhibit where locals and fellow artists gathered to see the residents’ creations. Below are photos from my travels and snake encounters. 2024.
Photos from the Blue Mountain Range in NSW, Australia. 2024. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Midwest Snake Hibernaculum Trip 2025
After my Australian residency in 2024, I felt the pull of another field excursion. In late May 2025, I set out on a two-week, cross-country journey in my Jeep to visit three historic snake den sites I had uncovered through years of research—old newspaper articles and archival accounts pointing to locations in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Colorado. After careful map work and consulting local historical societies, I was able to pinpoint each site and successfully rediscovered all three, finding a thriving population of prairie rattlesnakes at the Colorado den. Photos from the trip are below. 2025.
My first targeted site was a copperhead den in rural Kansas, written about in the 1940s by a well-known herpetologist, nestled along a rocky bluff. I had identified the area on maps years prior, and within an hour of searching, I was able to pinpoint the den, match the cracks on the main gestation rock, and confirm its alignment with historical photos. A current homeowner noted that copperheads are still occasionally seen, though the population is likely very different now, with the area heavily overgrown. The second photo shows a prairie rattlesnake den in Oklahoma, documented in an article from the late 1800s as discovered by General Custer’s troops during the Civil War. The site now lies on Fort Sill property and is off-limits, but I was able to locate the precise area and view it from across the river, matching its description to the historical account. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
A prairie rattlesnake found at a historic site in Colorado, once known to harbor the largest population in the state. 2025.
View from one of the arches along the rocky bluffs at the site in Colorado. It's possible that the carcass to the right is the remnants of a cougar kill. 2025.
More pictures of views, prairie rattlesnakes and a bull snake at the site in Colorado (and me). *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Pit Viper Trail Camera Project Photographs 2025
In 2025, I purchased 20 trail cameras and deployed them primarily at copperhead sites I had discovered, along with a few known rattlesnake dens. The goal was to observe these secretive creatures in their natural habitats, studying behaviors like activity temperatures, nocturnal movements, and precise timing of den entry, emergence, and birthing gatherings. As far as I know, this was the first snake-den trail camera project of its scale in the Northeast, offering a glimpse into how technology can aid conservation. With cameras becoming more affordable, state and private groups are likely to adopt similar methods to monitor wildlife and protect endangered species. I used the cameras to locate hidden crevices, verify suspected snake presence, and confirm species at sites with minimal prior data. Deployed across 25 locations over spring, summer, and fall—sometimes moved within sites or to new sites—the project successfully captured numerous snakes, documented behaviors, and revealed previously unknown den locations. All the data from this project, combined with my broader research, will eventually be donated to the NYSDEC to support ongoing conservation efforts.
A camera with a special stand I made, fixed on a combination timber rattlesnake / copperhead den crevice, beneath a large slab rock, with a small eye I painted on the rock above where the snakes enter and exit the den. Over 100 rattlesnakes and likely at least half that many copperheads, along with both species of black snakes, hibernate under the rock, likely in a deep cavity that might span four to six feet in diameter, and be four or five feet at its lowest depth. 2025.
A camera positioned over a man-made talus pile along the retaining wall of a dam at a small rural pond on private property. A late contact of mine was called to the home, by the homeowner, along with the head of an excavation company, in the late 1970s, to verify the presence of over 40 copperheads that crawled up to the surface when the wall was dug up and redone. Across the street is a massive ledge system, and a good amount of talus, likely home to a hundred or more snakes. I was able to verify the presence of copperheads still using these rocks as a home. People living in this area of New York may think copperheads are everywhere - but this is far from the case. In this part of New York, especially, copperheads live in isolated populations, often spread many miles apart. In Dutchess County, there may be as few as 20 population left in the entire county, where as 300 years ago there were likely well over 100. In Columbi County, there may be none at all - I am still in the process of verifying their presence at several sites. 2025.
Photos of the cameras taken at some of the sites over the course of the year, and some photos of the equiptment and project stuff, including some specialty stands and rigs I made, for specific situations. 2025. *CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE
Pit Viper Trail Camera Project Video Clips 2025
Below are some collected videos of various species of snakes throughout the spring, summer and fall, at 25 locations in southern New York, during my trail camera den project. 2025.
These first 3 video clip compilations were captured at 3 different locations, 2 of them about twenty feet apart, 1 of them several hundred yards downhill, on a rocky hillside that has multiple den sites, in Ulster County, NY. The first video is the main den on top of the hill, with a population of over 100 timber rattlesnakes, at least half that many copperheads and both species of black snakes. Unlike most rattlesnake dens in the northeast, snakes can be found here all year round. The second video, slightly downhill, is an area where gravid copperheads congregate in August and give birth, and the third, is the lowest den, with a much smaller population of both species of snakes.
This extensive compilation of clips comes from a site I rediscovered in Dutchess County, NY, which I initially stumbled upon before knowing much about the mountain. Later research revealed it was once frequented by a local snake collector and early poacher, who supplied rattlesnakes to herpetologists, zoos, and overseas buyers. By the 1960s, he had likely cleared the den of rattlesnakes, unaware of the lasting damage to local populations. The copperheads, however, remained and appear to have thrived in their absence. I first encountered them in late spring 2019, nearly stepping on a cluster of six or so curled up along the edge of a long flat rock, which I suspected was either a den entry or a gestation site. This year, I placed a camera there from late spring through fall and captured the highest concentration of copperheads recorded in this project—likely 60 or more snakes. While this flat rock served as a prime hiding and birthing area, the absence of snake activity from late September through October suggests that the overwintering chamber is located elsewhere, probably beneath the base of the high ledge at the bottom of the escarpment. The first set of clips shows copperheads using the site between August and late September, while a rare capture in the second clip shows babies born near a small entrance hole—an exceptionally uncommon event to witness or record in the wild. I estimate the total adult population here approaches 100, and reports of copperheads from two miles away could easily be individuals moving from this den. Interestingly, the third compilation of clips shows the common house wren behaving with notable caution around the snakes, with three observed at this site and one at a nearby site—the only birds I’ve recorded interacting with copperheads on camera.
The above compilation of clips comes from a historically significant den site in eastern Dutchess County, NY, rarely visited today and once frequented by the local snake hunter who collected rattlesnakes for zoos after the turn of the century. Several notable herpetologists studied this site, and it is steeped in historical lore, including a story in which the bones of a young girl who went missing in the 1920s were reportedly found there by a herpetologist while hunting snakes. Timber rattlesnakes, copperheads, black rat snakes, and black racers all inhabit this unique location, which features a round, door-shaped shard of rock recessed into the sheer wall that snakes use to access their overwintering chamber. I call it the "Hobbit Hole Den Crevice" due to its appearance. A large flat shelf-rock beneath the crevice suggests that Native Americans may have once camped here, possibly sleeping on the stone or building fires atop it. Stories of homes built over snake dens with fires blazing over entrances, awakening residents to rattlesnakes inside, are drawn from sites like this. The first set of clips shows the snakes’ spring emergence, while the second captures their return in October for the winter. For the project, I painted a temporary viper eye on the rock to add a unique visual effect to the footage.
Another site, in western Dutchess County, NY, was documented nearly a century ago by the same well-known herpetologists previously mentioned. This den, strictly for copperheads and black racers, had been lost to time, although copperheads were still occasionally seen in the area. In 1943, the local snake collector and a prominent herpetologist/zoo curator reportedly caught over 40 copperheads in this small area in a single early spring day—a significant number for the time, though now almost unheard of due to historical collecting and extermination. I rediscovered the den after a contact called me to remove a copperhead from behind a business at the base of the hill where the den is located. I have been visiting this site since 2003, though I’ve never seen more than three copperheads at one time. Setting up a camera to identify the main entrance was rewarding; after two attempts, the snakes appeared where I had seen them before, allowing me to capture extensive footage of both species, showcased in these two compilations.
The Shawangunks are well known for their wildlife, particularly copperheads, and represent one of the northernmost strongholds of copperhead populations in New York. While not “plentiful” in these rocky ledges and talus slides, they persist much as they did long before humans arrived, living in habitats largely untouched by modern development. I discovered this site in 2002—my first copperhead den located entirely through observation, experience, and instinct. The site supports copperheads, black rat snakes, and black racers, and contains a unique long, thin crevice along the capstone of the cliff where I’ve observed as many as eleven copperheads gathered to stay cool from May through late September. For years, I sat within inches of them without realizing they were there, a testament to their generally non-aggressive nature unless provoked. This crevice serves as a gathering area for pregnant females, while the overwintering entrance lies elsewhere. In April 2018, I observed a black racer emerging from a ground-level crevice at the base of the outcrop, indicating the proper location for a camera. My first spring setup had the angle slightly off, but by the fall, I refined it and successfully captured footage confirming the den entrance. This compilation includes clips of all three species observed on camera.
In 2018, I met an old-time snake hunter from eastern Dutchess County, NY, who shared stories from his years hunting and studying snakes. Early in his career, he worked with a herpetologist from the Bronx Zoo at a den behind his family farm, a site frequented decades earlier by other collectors and herpetologists from Dutchess County. Later, while working for a local parks division in the late 1970s, he was called to a home where an excavator had begun digging a retaining wall for a dam, uncovering dozens of copperheads crawling to the surface. He told me he had seen many copperheads in his life, but never so many in such a small area. I later located the site and got permission from the homeowner, who barely remembered the incident and said she hadn’t seen copperheads by the pond in decades. Across the street, a large ledge system with talus could house at least 100 copperheads, so the 40 seen at the pond were likely just part of a larger population. I placed a camera at the site, and after an initial failed attempt, I successfully captured several clips of copperheads moving across the rocks. While it appears to be a summer foraging area for frogs and other prey, it may also represent an overflow population from across the street, a question I hope to explore further with future camera work. Above is one of the clips showing two copperheads at this location.
These video clips showcase a copperhead, black rat snake, black racer and garter snake den I discovered in Ulster County, NY in 2018. The first set of clips are from July, with a copperhead and several garter snakes. In the second compilation, one copperhead is seen crawling across the rocks, and another is emerging from beneath the edge of the disk-shaped rock to the top-right-center.
Above is a clip of a black racer living in a place you wouldn’t expect to see copperhead snakes, which reside there also, in a stone pile hidden in the tall grass of a field at a small park in Ulster County, NY. I knew the den was close to these small boulders, but I now have fairly definitive proof that the entrance is on the other side of the rock to the left. Both species of black snakes and copperheads use this as a hibernaculum. There is a second den, not much more than 30 feet away, in a smaller but similar stone pile. With more stone piles scattered throughout the field and woods, likely from quarrying done in the 1950s, there may be more dens also - and with other naturally occuring known snake dens in the area, it's likely the snakes moved in from one of those locations, as they are known to do when they find suitable habitat.
This clip is of a milk snake crawling along a crevice on the top of a south-facing ledge, near the thruway in Catskill, NY. Below is a farm and I was contacted about a possible copperhead sighting in a barn, that turned out to be a milk snake - although I had been visiting this ledge for years prior, looking for copperheads. It's possible this is an extirpated copperhead site, or that they are still present, but it is certainly still a home for milk snakes.
The above 3 compilations of clips were taken at a strictly timber rattlesnake den along a rocky ridge in central New York, that is near a highway and river, very close to civilization. The first 2 compilations are from an area about 1 mile east of the 3rd set of clips. The first is of the lower rock slide where the females gather to give birth, and the second is the upper den crevice in the ledge above, which is an interesting verticle crevice den, found not much more than a hundred yards from the highway. The third compilation, 1 mile west, is 30 feet above the highway and is one of several dens along this stretch of the ridge, these rattlesnake populations being the only found within a 40 mile radius.
Den critter out takes! A black bear, baby bobcat, deer, racoon, vulture, rabbit and skunk – and last but not least, people - some of the many other inhabitants and passerbys that I caught on camera during this project.
If you've made it this far - This was a video I took of myself petting a wild 36-inch copperhead (which is a fairly large sized snake for this species) in 2019, on the edge of a 50-foot cliff, along a rare gestation crevice in Ulster County, NY. The only two dangerous species of snakes in our area, the chances of ever being bit by the timber rattlesnake or copperhead are next to nil, as long as you don't touch them or step on them, the latter of which is very rare, and the former out of ignorance or stupidity. The trick to my succes in not being bit, is that I previously caught this snake, likely a gravid female, although at that point in time I thought it was a male. I 'borrowed her on loan' several months prior and slowly gained her 'trust', learning to work with her to the point that I could keep her calm enough to pet her. Copperheads are often extremely irritable snakes, but only if touched, and so this is very out of character behavior. It didn't take as long as I thought, maybe five or so attempts before I realized that it was unlikely she would bite, but the possibility is always there - snakes all have different dispositions and they can also bite out of confusion, rather than as a defensive reflex. People make mistakes also, right? In this video clip, I was in the process of releasing her back at her gestation area to give birth, and this is the only venomous snake that I have ever done this with, and I would never recommend it to anyone, for any reason. The reason I attribute never being bitten in the field, is by sticking to the rule of never touching a wild venomous snake. Some people tail them, or pin them, or use hooks to help. Rarely have I done so. But again, they pose little threat to humans, as you see. So, please don't ever kill a snake! - Dylan Christopher, 2025. *VOLUME BUTTON AT LOWER RIGHT OF VIDEO CLIP
