"Who Ya Gonna Call??"

The favorite time of year for a beekeeper is definitely spring.  Spring brings swarm season!  This means that honey bee hives are getting crowded and the queen decides it is time to take half of the bees and leave, or "swarm" as beekeepers call it.  For the middle aged beekeeper, that first swarm call brings a rapid heart beat and a feeling that maybe, just maybe, life is still an adventure!

 I remember our very first call as novice "swarm busters".  My husband and I jumped in the truck and as we careened down the driveway with the dust billowing behind us, we shouted out to the kids, "You're on your own!  The will is in the yellow file.  We love you!"  Feeling like Indiana Jones, we struggled to put on our bee suits, duct taping every minuscule hole that a bee could sneak in through, while maneuvering the truck down the highway.  With "Flight of the Bumblebee" blasting in the background, we checked our swarm kit; Sawzall, sugar water, camera, bee-vac, epi-pen - check!"

 We soon arrived at our swarm destination - a concrete plant filled with tough-looking guys, now hiding, who had reported a huge swarm of bees on their east wall.  By the time we arrived, there were just a few hundred bees left outside.  Most of the bees had found their way into the walls through a small hole.  Once inside the concrete plant, we tapped and listened and measured and soon figured out where the bees had gone.  As my husband got ready to cut into the wall, he eyed the concrete cowboys watching him through the outside windows.  "STAND BACK", he yelled as he bravely cut into the wall and pulled the wallboard away.  Bees started to fly, but he continued to feel pretty confident and tough, covered head to foot with bee suit and duct tape.  He reached his totally protected and gloved arm into the black hole of bees.  That was when things started to get a little embarrassing!  As a clump of buzzing bees fell onto his arms, Indiana Brad let out a scream a 3rd grade girl would have been proud of.  I am proud to say that my husband quickly regained his composure, however, and went on to safely vacuum up a large hive of bees, including the queen, and take them home to a new hive on the farm.

Our fellow swarm buster, Tyler (his name has been changed to protect the innocent), is another tough honcho.  Tyler is not your run-of-the-mill beekeeper.  He has caused many a near-miss on the back roads as cars passing him would do a double-take.  In his early "swarm-busting" days, he could be seen careening down the road at high speeds, fully bee-suited up and with a cloud of honeybees filling his family mini-van.  (When you capture 10,000 bees in a cardboard box, you can count on a few escaping!)

One spring day, Tyler was called out on a swarm call to a fire station.  As he pulled up in his "Swarm Mobile", he saw a small group of fire cadets and fire personnel all looking at a ball of bees hanging from a bush.  Well aware of his coolness, he stepped out of the van and asked, "Whatcha got?"  Covered head to foot in the impenetrable white coveralls, with all openings duct taped, and hood draped behind his back, he sauntered towards the bees.  While still a safe distance away, he flipped his "bee hoodie" onto his head.  As he did, a pair of his kids Strawberry Shortcake underwear, which had gotten stuck in the bee suit while laundering, flew out of his hood and landed smack dab in front of the "grandstands".  He stood for a moment, started to speak, and then shook his head and made a bee line for the swarm.   Tarnished cape and all, he got the bees and was the hero!