IN the 1950s and early ’60s, Turner Falls was a lightly developed swimming hole south of Davis, Oklahoma. We lived north of there in Maysville, but Turner Falls was fairly convenient, scenic, and the water below the falls was cool and clear. There were points below the 77-foot falls from which the adventurous and the poorly-supervised could jump into the pool below.
It was there I saw my first centipede. Maybe it’s not actually a centipede. Perhaps it has a different name but, if so, I’m unaware of it. Feel free to correct me.
Whatever it is, Pop made sure we all saw it crawling slowly up the rock wall beside the path to those medium-high jumping-off places. “All” includes Mom. Mom was not happy. We left shortly thereafter and I’m not 100 percent certain we ever returned. I do know most of our picnic/swimming activities were thereafter focused on Little Niagara Falls at Sulphur, OK… equally cool and, as far we knew, centipede-free.
Pictured below is a centipede, maybe 4 inches long, headed somewhere at my campground. There are many of these here, mostly moving slowly across the road. I’m sure they play an important role in Pennsylvania’s ecosystem. Maybe it’s a key component in the diet of the thousands of crows or robins here.
Environmentally important or otherwise, I never swerve to avoid one. I’ve even, I confess, backed up and given it another go just to be certain there would be one less centipede. Or whatever its proper name is.
So does it have 100 little legs under it? As long as they stay outside and don’t scamper up my leg, I’m okay with centipedes.
The hard shell ones (like this one) won’t hurt you, (or at least I have handled many with never an issue). They just curl up like armadillos. However, stay clear of the fuzzy and furry ones with antennae! I suspect they have a serious sting and so I have always avoided them.
If it’s all the same to you, I’ll avoid both varieties. 🙂