How To Ride An Alligator
8.26.6
The failed trip to the dunes last week was not without its shining moments. One in particular, occurred during our traditional stop at the Subway in Walsenburg, CO.
I had already eaten my sandwich and was wandering around the restaurant, when something caught my eye. Sitting on one of the waste bins was a pile of newsletters.
"The Colorado Gator Gazette" is basically an 8-page advertisement for Colorado Gators...the largest attraction in southern Colorado's San Luis valley. I picked one up out of sheer curiosity, and started reading. As I began to take a sip of my soda, I flipped the paper over. It was then that I saw something I hadn't expected at all.
I immediately started choking on my drink, all the while excitedly trying to get everyone's attention. As worried friends gathered around me, I gained my composure enough to babble, "Look! It's Cutaia!"
Until that exact moment, I had doubted that it was even true...but there it was in black and white.
August 18th, 2001
It was the morning after the first official Dunes. We were winding down from the amazing night before by taking in some of the local attractions, one of which was Colorado Gators.
We had taken the tour through the hatchery, seen the baby alligators, and finally reached the giant gator pond in the back. We stood there, staring over the fence at the alligators, as they floated about, occasionally snapping at each other. There was also a little section of beach beyond the fence that seemed to be designated for gator wrestling shows. The only "employee" around, though, was a 12-year old girl selling dead fish to feed to the gators.
One of my good friends at the time (who I've since had a falling out with), was David Harrison. We stood there for quite some time throwing fish heads at the gators and watching them fight. Eventually we grew tired of that and I uttered the dumbest question to ever leave my lips.
"Can I go over the fence?" I asked the girl. I expected her to deny my request, of course....perhaps even to admonish me for my stupidity. For some reason she didn't, though.
"I don't care," she said. This surprised me, and for the next few moments we went back and forth, testing each other's limits. I think she was as curious to know if I'd actually do it, as I was to know if I could get away with it. As I came closer and closer to jumping the fence, her callousness became ever more evident. "I think you're afraid," she said in a child's mocking tone. That was enough. I decided to just go for it, and jumped over the fence. Dave followed suit.
Suddenly we found ourselves standing at the edge of a gator pond. The rest of our friends stayed behind. Every now and then, a gator could be seen surfacing. It was amazing how invisible they were until the very last second.
"Grab those sticks," she said, motioning towards some long narrow PVC pipes. We complied. "Hit the water with those, and they'll come to you. If they start to come after you, smack 'em on the nose."
What? Seriously? I couldn't believe this was happening. Not only had she really not cared about us going over the fence...she was advising us to taunt the gators, so they would come closer. Dave and I looked at each other. "Is she serious?"
"I don't know," I responded with a worried smile, "I guess so." I decided the only way to find out was to give it a try. I started lightly tapping the water with my pipe. "Here gator, gator, gator," I called out.
This went on for a couple of minutes to no avail. The longer that nothing happened, the more the thrill of teasing the alligators started to wear off. Now...it had only been a few minutes since I had set a record for "Stupidest Question" but I'll be damned if I didn't blow that record right out of the water when I asked:
"Can we go in the pond?"
Surely there was no way she would let us go in the water. This was an alligator pond for Christ's sake. If she wouldn't stop us out of a genuine concern for our safety, then certainly she'd want to at least stay out of trouble herself! There was simply no way that she was going to... "OK...I hope you don't die!"
Alright...this kid was crazy.
I don't know why, but we didn't turn around right there. This was obviously the stupidest thing we would ever do...but it was also the only chance we'd ever get to do it. I dipped my wingtips into the water, and took my first step into the alligator pond. Dave and I then waded into the water, tapping the surface with our sticks every step of the way. Alligators began surfacing left and right, and they all seemed to be looking directly at us.
It wasn't until we were about 10 feet out that I looked at Dave and said, "Dave?"
"Yeah?" he answered.
"What the fuck are we doing?"
There we were, standing in the middle of an alligator pond. The only thing between them and our limbs were some flimsy little PVC pipes and the instructions of a 12-year old girl. This was completely fucking retarded. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard the voice of reason...and it was screaming, "What the hell are you guys doing in there? Get out now!"
I turned around and saw one of the adult employees walking towards us with an angry look on his face. I think I was more afraid of what this guy was going to do to us than I had been of the alligators. We instantly headed back to the shore. When we got to the edge he again asked us what we were doing. As we began to explain the story to him, his look changed from anger to more of a surprised awe.
Being a professional alligator wrestler, I think he must have admired our idiotic bravery. By all means, he had every right to kick every one of us out, right that moment. Hell, he probably should have kicked our asses for what we did. Instead, we had a nice little talk with him. Eventually, the conversation turned to gator wrestling. At that point, I began to test my limits again.
"If I gave you fifty bucks, would you let me wrestle an alligator?"
The "Stupid Question" record had been shattered once again. He stared at me for a few moments with one eyebrow cocked before saying, "You're serious?" I told him I was. He looked out at the water, and eventually told me I could ride one for that much.
That wasn't quite what I had been hoping for, but I agreed nonetheless. As he set out to catch an alligator, my friends yelled at him to get a big one.
He didn't disappoint us. He went all the way to the back of the pond, and grabbed the biggest gator they had: Over 13 feet long, and over 800 pounds. It took him several minutes to maneuver him all the way back to the beach. Once he reached the beach, he tied it up, and we took a few group photos next to it.
After that, he explained to me how to ride an alligator. He told me that I needed to exit to the side and towards the rear before it reached the water. If I didn't get off before the water, chances are it would kill me. Also, if it began to roll to one side, I was supposed to just stay with it until it stopped, because if I got scared and tried to escape, it would probably just roll over me. Eventually, he had given me every piece of safety advice he could muster.
It was time.
I sat down on the alligator's back, while the wrangler went around to its front. He instructed me where to put my hands to avoid getting bitten, and then reached down and grabbed the rope around the gator's neck. Before he let the gator free, he said one last thing to me, "Now...when he feels this loosen up around his neck, he might just go crazy. Just remember what I told you."
How comforting...
The rope came off, and the gator instantly headed towards the water. It was amazing to feel how powerful it was. It just took off like I wasn't even there. As it reached the water, I dove backwards and ran for the fence.
I had done it. I had ridden an alligator. It was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life, and I celebrated with hugs and high fives from my friends. I just couldn't believe I had done that.
When it was all over, I asked him what the alligator's name was. "He hasn't been here too long, actually, so he doesn't have one yet," he told me.
"Can you name it after me then?" I asked.
"What's your name?"
"Call it Cutaia."
He told me he would, but I had always doubted that it was true. I figured he was just being nice. But 5 years later, there I was...standing in a Subway, looking at the proof in black in white.
There he was again: Cutaia...the alligator.
