Just heard a wonderful story. In the hills up above Cottonwood, Arizona is an old mining town named Jerome, now mostly a tourist town occupied by resident artists and shop keepers, once a copper-mining town clinging to the sleep sides of a mountain. Very windy two-lane blacktop road curls up the mountain to get to it.
Yesterday my MIL was driving up to Jerome and al the traffic was stopped in both directions just outside of town. Turned out, the reason was that a diamondback who was five feet long had decided to cross the road, and the citizenry just reckoned they could wait until he had finished get across in his leisurely fashion.
I have never seen one five feet long, but what amazes me is that no-one had to run it over.