Lots of them where I grew up. I remember stepping on one during a scout hike. When I realized what I'd done, I froze. Luckily the snake was crawling down into some rocks and couldn't back up to strike me. My friend pulled out his axe and killed it. We had a healthy debate afterwards as to who should keep the rattle. He ended up with it.

The year after I graduated HS, I worked as a welder's assistant on a gas pipeline. One of my assigned tasks was to jump into the trench at each connection point and kill any rattlesnakes before we began prepping the ends of the pipe for the welder. The snakes used to fall into the trench and then were unable to get out. Most of the older snakes would be scared off by all the noise and head further up the trench. The younger ones, though, would just curl up, rattle and hiss and try to look intimidating. I used my shovel a lot that summer, and it wasn't for digging dirt.

I only do one thing when I see a snake, and it still involves a shovel. Hate the things...