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I thought of this on last night.
So some of you have heard of the Shanks Ferry Native pottery. I had found the site and visited it many times. The site is wooded so it’s hard to find anything there. There is a big power line the runs across the site. There is also a rail road track on the top of the hill. So one time I took a friend there, and as we climbed the hill on the power line to the site, I was in the lead. I stomped on a pile of brush and stepped forward thinking nothing of it. My friend Kevin followed me and as he crossed the brush pile he was swarmed by Yellow Jackets that were nested in the pile I just stomped on. Kevin screamed and yelled in agony and passed me in a split second and up the hill he went. He left me in the dust the, dust of swarming Yellow Jackets. At the top of the hill we stopped on the rail road tracks to catch our breath. In a second the bees were all over us and stinging again. So we ran out the tracks another 100 yards to escape. No luck. Those bees followed our fear sent and were on us again in seconds. We ran another 100 yards or so, looking back. “There still coming” Kevin yelled. Still running and as we turned around again there was just one single Yellow Jacket still following us. Running again with stings all over us we stopped. We carefully watched. We had finally out run the swarm. Needless to say that was the end of our hunt. Out of wind and swelling and itching all over, licking our wounds, we made it out another way. I have always been very careful about stumping on brush piles ever since. Kim
So some of you have heard of the Shanks Ferry Native pottery. I had found the site and visited it many times. The site is wooded so it’s hard to find anything there. There is a big power line the runs across the site. There is also a rail road track on the top of the hill. So one time I took a friend there, and as we climbed the hill on the power line to the site, I was in the lead. I stomped on a pile of brush and stepped forward thinking nothing of it. My friend Kevin followed me and as he crossed the brush pile he was swarmed by Yellow Jackets that were nested in the pile I just stomped on. Kevin screamed and yelled in agony and passed me in a split second and up the hill he went. He left me in the dust the, dust of swarming Yellow Jackets. At the top of the hill we stopped on the rail road tracks to catch our breath. In a second the bees were all over us and stinging again. So we ran out the tracks another 100 yards to escape. No luck. Those bees followed our fear sent and were on us again in seconds. We ran another 100 yards or so, looking back. “There still coming” Kevin yelled. Still running and as we turned around again there was just one single Yellow Jacket still following us. Running again with stings all over us we stopped. We carefully watched. We had finally out run the swarm. Needless to say that was the end of our hunt. Out of wind and swelling and itching all over, licking our wounds, we made it out another way. I have always been very careful about stumping on brush piles ever since. Kim
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