While I was in my 20s, I was enjoying an outing at Saguaro Lake, Mesa, Arizona, with my wife in our 26’ boat. While exploring along the shore, I observed a Bull Snake gliding along the water, appearing to be exhausted. I carefully picked the slippery snake up and placed it in a large white bucket.  We continued on our way to the marina to fill the tank with fuel.

After refueling, I untied the line from the dock when several hippie-looking young men and women approached us, reminding me fondly of pleasant times in the ’60s. A young man asked if we would take them to pick up their friends on the other side of the lake. I agreed.

We arrived at the beach, where many of their partially dressed friends quickly filled the small boat beyond legal capacity.

I chatted with a few of our passengers and docked the boat back at the marina. Everyone was gracious with their thanks as they stepped on the dock and wandered off. One of the young men handed me $20. I said it was unnecessary as I had plenty of fuel and was happy to help them. He strongly insisted and walked away. I noticed the empty bucket and turned to show my wife the money. The snake was gone. I guessed the money was for the Bull Snake they took.