Just how (and why) does one go about moving a colony of snakes?
When the visitors first began spending winters in the little cottage, the road out front was a country lane.
That changed as decades passed and Lake County began to fill with new homes and traffic. Yet cracks and crevices in the cinder block basement walls remained a perfect place during cold months for a hearty colony of western fox snakes.
Every fall, as many as 200 of the nonpoisonous rodent-eaters would emerge from marshes out back, slither hundreds of yards up the hill and lodge inside.
Safe and undisturbed with a southern exposure, the basement quarters were preferred by the mild-mannered creatures over the traditional woodchuck hole or dead tree.
"To them, this must have been Camelot," said Mike Corn, the retired dean of biological health sciences at the College of Lake County.
'Was' is the operative word for Corn and others involved in wildlife issues. The terrain has been leveled and the house will be demolished, clearing the path for an eventual commercial use.
With the annual return of the reptiles expected soon, the work of Corn and his colleagues has shifted from research to rescue and relocation. They plan to intercept and move an entire population of fox snakes to a new home in a forest preserve nearby.
"No one's really attempted this so a lot of it is guesswork," said Gary Glowacki, a wildlife biologist with the Lake County Forest Preserve District.
He's overseeing installation of two large sections of concrete septic tank, secured for free as factory seconds, about 10 feet below ground to serve as winter quarters.
"Ultimately, we want these snakes to find this place on their own and not have to capture and move them."
Without intervention, the snakes within a few weeks will clamor to get somewhere that no longer exists. The fear is they would continue past the old home site and into the path of busy traffic.
"Snakes don't get old in Lake County - they get run over long before that," said Corn, whose special interest in his 40-year career is reptile ecology.
To prevent that, contractors working for the property owner, this spring installed a corridor using a silt fence and wooden stakes. Funneled into the path as they left for the marshes, about 50 snakes were captured and fitted with tiny transmitters.
The reverse will happen beginning next week, when volunteers begin collecting snakes from traps placed along the corridor. They were fashioned by Corn using a gutter downspout, plastic box and other common materials.
They will be held at the Wildlife Discovery Center at Elawa Farm until late October or early November before being introduced to their new home.
Those involved in the project will say only the location is in the Lake Villa area.
"There are a lot of snake hounds around that would show up in the middle of the night and take the snakes out of the traps," said Steve Barg, executive director of the Liberty Prairie Conservancy, an open space and restoration group also involved in the effort.
Attempts to buy the property were unsuccessful, but the owner has allowed Corn access since he learned of it about 15 years ago.
Transmitters allow researchers to track the snakes to determine seasonal movements and preferred habitats. Fox snakes are not on any threatened or endangered lists but are becoming rare here.
"Once widely distributed, now only a few populations live in Lake County," said Rob Carmichael, curator of the center, part of the Lake Forest parks and recreation department. "Their numbers have really plummeted and they're not doing as well as they could."
Scientific papers will be written, and Corn even has plans for a "fox cam." If it works, the process could be used as a model to save other species in the county.
Why all the effort? Corn said the general public doesn't always consider the big picture.
"Their idea of preserving nature is, 'We want bluebirds and squirrels and a bike path,'" he said. "To maintain an ecosystem, you need all the pieces."