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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Original Post - Nov 18, 2009 - 07:55pm PT
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The Black Wasp woodpile.
Summer of 1986 my city friend Wally comes up to go fishing and adventuring with me. We drive into middle of nowhere Idaho and get to a small stream by early evening. After an hour or so of fishing, it’s time to go find a camp spot.
As we are getting in my truck, I notice a pile of logging slash. I explain to Wally that we should gather some of that for a campfire, since it is unlikely that our roadside camp will have any firewood. It is almost dark and a little cold. I put on Levis, a heavy canvas shirt, and work gloves: before gathering firewood.
So------I climb onto the pile of slash and start pulling out pieces and tossing them to Wally.
Shortly, something flies near my face. I have a premonition of evil, and I look down to see what might be happening.
I am black from the belly down with incensed, but cold, black-hornets that are crawling up me with malice in their demonical little minds.
“Hornets!!” I scream, as I leap off the slash pile and start running towards the road (and Wally) while peeling off my shirt and flailing at my pants.
About that time the first hornets start stinging me through the shirt and on my head.
I blow by the slightly stunned Wally and start running up the road at just below light speed. (the truck was not an option, since I was still covered with hornets.)
Meanwhile Wally is standing there trying to figure out what is going on. He later told me that the only thing he could think was: Fritz had finally gone insane. About that time the first hornet stung him.
We both run about 100 yards up the road in the dark, slapping and getting stung, cursing and screaming: until we feel safe again.
The toll was surprisingly low. I had been stung about a dozen times on my head and back. Wally had about ˝ that many. It had been too cold for the hornets to be a killing threat to us.
I do have a mild allergy to beestings, but the closest medical clinic was over 2 hours away. We went to camp, fried some fish, drank a lot of red wine and felt much better.
Wasn’t funny at the time.
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
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Nov 18, 2009 - 08:00pm PT
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ooofa!
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Gunkie
Trad climber
East Coast US
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Nov 18, 2009 - 08:52pm PT
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#1 Rope-soloing Twilight Zone in the Gunks in October when it was fairly cold. I was hanging under this huge roof, just turning the lip when I jostle a 'Death Star' of white faced hornets. They flew out in a drunken stupor and landed all over me. None stung me. However, it was readily apparent that I couldn't go up or down in a quick fashion. So I down aided. I pulled on a piece of gear and got stung inside my elbow when a hornet was sitting there.
#2 Riding my old riding lawn mower behind the shed. I saw that the gutter, which is about 5' off the ground in the back, was falling away from the roof. So, as I'm cutting the lawn, I push the gutter back up against the roof; ya know, kill two birds thing. Just then a cloud of angry bees comes firing out. Instead of hoping off this old POS lawn tractor, I chose to drive away at 1.3 MPH. Well, angry bees fly faster than that tractor would go, in high gear. I got stung all over, but came back with two full cans of wasp death the following day.
#2A The next day, I spray the wasps, mid-day. The can says to wait until dusk when the wasps are far more pleasant. I had the whole load of angry waps chasing me again. This time I was on foot. The only problem was I left a rake in the back yard that tripped me up. My wife laughed her ass off watching me run back and forth swatting at wasps. I got more stings trying the spray them than riding away on the speedy mower. The wasps and I now have an agreement, I don't spray nor do I move the gutter and they don't sting me or my family. Ten years later, so far, so good.
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 18, 2009 - 09:22pm PT
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Gunkie: Great 3 stories. I got a big belly-laugh out of 2 A.
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MisterE
Trad climber
Canoga Bark! CA
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Nov 18, 2009 - 09:47pm PT
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Coming off soloing Tenaya two summers ago, and hit a nest of bees traversing a cliff left. I damn near ran off the cliff trying to get away, only a last minute tree-swing saved my ass. I kept going, but a bit more sober, as they continued to pursue. Finally I got away and was psyched to only have one sting, and be alive!
I was so jacked on adrenaline and relief, I forgot to check my clothes and got three more before I figured out to check all the cuffs, etc. Damn! No bad response, just some swelling in the ass, wrist and ankles.
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jstan
climber
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Nov 18, 2009 - 10:11pm PT
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It is not my place to tell this story but I will anyway, funny or not.
A climber whom most of you know was leading some beginners up a climb. So as to be sure of the belay he tied himself down really close to the ground. Unfortunately he tied himself directly above the exit to a yellow jacket nest. As he was belaying a person who had trusted their life to him, the yellow jackets began stinging him.
The value of his commitment to his friends is nicely quantified when I tell you he was stung 100 times.
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 19, 2009 - 12:40am PT
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Mid 1980’s I was divorced and -------looking for companionship.
A fly fishing date with an old acquaintance that had been: “way too cool” for me back in high school. I finally got to date a cheerleader------think she had been a rodeo queen as well.
Fall 1985, we park the truck, and of course leave the windows down, and go have fishing fun for a number of hours.
We get back in late afternoon to the west-facing truck. I start it up and start down a bumpy trail towards a gravel road. Sun in my eyes: I pull the visor down.
20 or so wasps, that thought they had a great nest for the winter, fall into my lap. The woman flings open the door and bails, as I start to do the same. I then remember I am driving at about 5 MPH, stop, turn off the ignition, and then jump from the cab.
Neither of us got stung. Most all the wasps left or got killed.
However, later that fall, after it got colder: it turned out the surviving wasps had gone into the heat ducts in the truck.
I’d be driving down a curvy road on a frosty morning, and suddenly a wasp would fly out of the window heater duct.
This went on until January, and made for some interesting moments.
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hooblie
climber
sounding out stuff , in the manner of crickets
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Nov 19, 2009 - 05:02am PT
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i had a classy old shed of weathered cedar and visions of lining the interior so wind driven snow wouldn't filter through the cracks and knot holes. but first to deal with the big old wasp nest.
i was way edgey about the project and took abundant precautions including tying the extension cords to prevent power failure in the midst of the caper. put on my fluffiest parka in mid summer, gloves and goggles, the works.
knock, knock. mister shop vac calling. pretty pitiful really, not what you'd call fair chase. with the extension tube an inch from the nest's only exit the formidible squadron lauched one by one into the sucking abyss. their screams were muffled by the whine of the motor, though the gentlest little tumbling sounds travelled along the hose to the cannister.
easy to imagine some attitude remained within so without interruption an introduction was made to the stinky old tailpipe of a honda stumbling at a rough idle with a gummy carb.
over to the fast moving creek where the whitewater event took place. after such a display of overhelming technological superiority
i'm considering foregoing the michelin man outfit in favor of the brazen euro sunbasker look i brandish these days,
though i will make sure the power bill is paid up
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Lee Bow
Trad climber
wet island
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Nov 19, 2009 - 02:08pm PT
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Got a couple actually...
Mid 80's: Rapping off Grand Wall in a HUGE rainstorm. There's loose rock and hunks of wood and clods of moss hurtling down like meteors. My partner had less experience than me and I didn't know diddly (still don't) but I'm trying to act cool to keep him from panicking...
"Hey man, this is almost as wet as winter sailing, but the chunks of wood hitting me in the head aren't nearly as big..." Macho crap...
After a week long hour we finally touch down and dive for the trees for some kind of cover. I actually find a dry spot and I'm sitting there glad things aren't bouncing off my head anymore as I take off my Whillans. Suddenly I notice a warm spot. "Gee that's nice" I think. Then I notice another...and another. CRAP! I'm standing in a wasps nest. I dive back out into the rain, with only 7 or 8 stings...turn around and look...there's my harness and the rack in a cloud of wasps.
Fortunately one could have Squamish entirely to one self in the rain at that time. I simply left the gear there till the next day, 'cuz I was camped at the trail head anyway.
Another day...
Me and Crazy Terry are free-soloing some of the local choss. Nothing much harder than 5.7, but loose blocks the size of Volkswagons everywhere. So we're about 300ft off the deck which is pretty amazing when you consider that anyting even remotely worth climbing in these parts is about 50ft high...but if you're willing to climb garbage...
Anyway, We're right near the top, come up this short slab and bump into a small overhang. Did I mention this was onsight soloing and we had no clue where we were going? Any idiot with half a brain would not have been there...Terry and I would be hard pressed to come up with half a brain between us, besides he looks like a line-backer who could tackle a dump truck; how could I not be safe?
So we stare at this little overhang and figure it can't be much harder than 5.9...tighten the shoes on our EB's and Terry starts up while I stare off into space pretending I'm on the Eiger or something...
Suddenly Terry goes hurtling right over my head and lands on the slab like Bat Man... He holds up his already swelling hand and gapes at the small wasp nest he's still holding!
I don't really remember climbing out, I just know we sure did do it fast!
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 19, 2009 - 07:13pm PT
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eKat, Leebow, Pate: Thanks for the scary stories!
Here's one that still makes me twitch when I think about it.
I’m driving home with my buddy Kevin after a weekend climbing trip to some poison ivy infested crags along the Salmon River in Idaho. Hot summer evening and the windows are down. I’m wearing baggy climbing shorts of course.
At 60 MPH the drivers-side outside mirror deflected a honey bee through the open window and up my gapping shorts.
The injured bee crawled up my inner thigh toward “big bob & the twins”-------as a slightly concerned Fritz felt something and pawed the same area.
Yep, about then, the bee stung me right on “big bob.”
We skidded to a tire-smoking stop, and I was half-way out the door: when Kevin screamed that the car was starting to roll backwards towards the river.
With a heavy sigh, I sat back down, turned off the engine, and put the car in gear.
Then I jumped out again, and dropped my shorts in front of oncoming traffic.
I was much too late to do any good, but I did get to dance on the dying bee’s carcass.
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 19, 2009 - 09:48pm PT
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Pate! Christ------that's nearly the ultimate "shut up and let me drive" story.
It sounds like mom and you have nearly gotten over it.
Heidi: my farm-girl, american-german wife has similar stories, but I believe yours beats any of her "shut up and let me drive" childhood memories.
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Reilly
Mountain climber
Monrovia, CA
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Nov 19, 2009 - 09:48pm PT
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Geez Pate, good thing that didn't happen these days or your poor mum would be brought up on dereliction charges!
We're a few pitches up the Salathe and back then there were still things growing in some of the cracks and I notice they've attracted a bee or two. Now I've climbed with Dave like forever and know he is seriously allergic so when he gets to the belay I ask him if he brought his needles and dope kit. He gives me the look that Homer Simpson gives Marge when she calls him on something and he says, "Uh, nooo." "So what am I supposed to do up here if you get stung? Whip out my Swiss bitch and intubate you?" He didn't get stung except by my 'wit'.
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Doctor-man
Big Wall climber
Skagway, AK
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Nov 19, 2009 - 11:21pm PT
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Mine isn't nearly as epic...I was doing a mid season run up to the merced lake HS camp with a super light pack...no sleeping bag, no food, just a couple bottles for the DNC kids...anyways, I'm about to get to the last vertical gain on the trail, can't remember the name of the hill, but I run into a bear. Not such a big deal, I'd dealt with a bunch of bears before, but there were some hikers that were camped out with their tent pitched on a hill/rim just above said bear...I give these cats a warning, but they seem to be too macho to worry about it...so on I walk. Actually had to take evasive action around the bear(hiked it way wide...like 200 feet out) since he wouldn't get out of the way after yelling at him...so it goes...anyways, I figure I'm out of the danger zone after maybe a couple hundred feet and I start up the last hill of the hike.
About the second switchback I go to swat at what I think is a fly in my face, turns out to "bee" something different...all of a sudden I'm surrounded by a full swarm attacking me, some D bag with a daypack at least 11 or 12 miles from any road in any direction. So, what happens next? I run my a## off and actually manage to take care of all the last uphill section of the cruise to the lake in record time...
Despite the couple of stings, I've never made it from the valley to Merced lake in less than 4 hours since...
So it goes...
edit: I completely forgot about the time that I had a bee land on my lap while driving up in alaska this summer...distracted, I swatted at it while it tried to crawl under my shirt, and ended up missing the next turn in the road and rolling my truck...no one got hurt and we still made it climbing that day, but it still sucked.
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couchmaster
climber
pdx
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Nov 19, 2009 - 11:28pm PT
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this is a copy of an event that happened couple years back.
I was working on my wildlife understanding skills. It seemed like @ 2000 Yellow-Jacket Hornets and I had about a 15 second conversation that seemed to take at least 20 min. but may have only been 60 secondsBasically we agreed that our communication skills are poor to non-existent.
I don't understand their buzzing noise and need for space very well, and they seem to think that loud little girl screams and arm waving means keep stinging some more.
I thought it was 20-30 stings, but the next day I was able to count some of them (where I didn't not know they'd even hit) , and it looks to be easily over 200 total stings for sure. So call it 200-300 stings. I suppose it would have been a 2 day weekend, but it just seemed like taking Sunday off and watching the swelling would be easier. Went for a bike ride with family and stayed on pavement.
I was rapping about a 250' cliff with a 165' rope and another 50m rope in the backpack. Had a ground spotter about a 1/4 mile out from the wall to direct me to the line were were trying to get on. With little lightweight travel binocs, he could see the swarm on my face and surrounding me with out the binocs. I was fully locked off with a Cinch and getting ready to saw on a dead tree limb at the time: and I was unprepared for the swarm. He says I tried to fight them off by wildly swinging my arms. Quickly gave up that bad idea. As I unfu*ked myself and started rapping again, the rope got tangled in a dead branch I hadn't gotten too and stuck fast. I totally forgot about the saw in my haste to bail as I dropped it and grabbed the handle on the Cinch, glad the saw didn't cut the rope.
Fortunately, they stopped following. I was not even 20' under the nest and stuck. I was happily right next to the only tree in the area, and that next rope barely reached to the ground. Damn good thing as I wasn't going to head up to confront that again. After 5 min of catching my breath and sawing a few dead limbs off, my partner suggested I get the hell down in case I had a reaction. I slung the tree, left a rap ring, tied off the rope and bailed.
Fu*kers probably were unaware that I had a can of raid in my car which I'd used to off their brothers who had unfortunately chosen the middle of the trail in to this area for a home just the week before. Rapped down, hiked out and got the can. Hiked back in, then up and my buddy - who had better clothes, rapped down and did em in after we determined that the rope wouldn't pull up and was totally stuck. Pretty much that's how my whole day went. We pulled some rocks off the route as well.
Was able to then rappel in an orderly manner and pull the rope.
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FeelioBabar
Trad climber
One drink ahead of my past.
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Nov 20, 2009 - 01:01pm PT
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Was climbing a nice granite fingercrack once...and outta the blue like a lightning bolt...took a wasp hit, right to the beanbag, if ya know what I mean. Well...I am allergic...so I ran it out 40 feet to the belay, and immediately lowered for my epi-pen. The Captain and two Neils were none to happy about that little brush with nature.
I was never allergic growing up, but once as a sawyer on a shot crew, I started my cuts into a big old problem tree. Just as I began the bore cut, the cartoon cloud of bald faced hornest poured out the other side. Before I could get away I was stung 22 times across the neck and face. "Yer allergic now bitch!" I could hear them saying. Best part was waking up from a dirty ashy bivie, and a quick glassing in the signal mirror revealed that I was looking like the elephant man....all swollen and jacked. Swelling didn't go down for three days. Sucked bad.
And Bumble bees sure as hell do sting!!...took one in the face on a motorcycle doing 90. Damn that hurt...but the buzzing fugger was stuck in between my helmet and face...and it stung me before I could pull over and get him out! Hurt like hell!
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Chaz
Trad climber
greater Boss Angeles area
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Nov 20, 2009 - 01:42pm PT
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A couple years back a bunch of bees built their hive about 30' up a big old pecan tree in my yard.
One day a big hunk of it fell off. "Nature's Engineers" my ass.
I was walking about ten yards away when I heard a "splat".
As soon as I turned around to see what it was I was stung. Bees followed me into one door of the garage and out the other one, and a few made it into the house. They were pissed!
I called my neighbor, who keeps bees, hoping he wanted them. Actually I was hoping he would get rid of them for me. He advised me to just spray bug poison on them.
He didn't tell me to wait a while for them to calm down.
I grabbed a can of Black Flag and went out to take care of things.
About 2/3 of the hive was splattered on the driveway, about a snow-shovel full, leaking honey. The bees were still trying to work it. The bees weren't very happy to see me. They seemed to blame me for all their new problems.
I had to walk right up to the grounded hive to be within Black Flag range. At first the bees just buzzed around my face. I didn't get stung again until I started spraying, then I got chased back into the house.
I came back after dark and saturated the hive with ant spray. Next morning all was calm.
I think I only got stung about ten times alltogether.
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TGT
Social climber
So Cal
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Nov 21, 2009 - 05:02pm PT
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Five bee stories.
Back in the day, my first climbing partner and i both commuted to Tahquitz on rice rockets. (Circa 70). On a hot summer day riding in tee shirts we were on our way back and where the Hemet side road made its way thru a tunnel of eucalyptus a swarm of bees clouded the road. With the slow motion cannabis induced view I saw one bee tumble in the slip stream and impact ass first right in the base of my exposed bicep. Not an intentional sting, just driven into my arm at 60mph.
Ouch!
On the way up the north side trail to Tahquitz with a large crew I noticed that the log you step over (Just above the steep part coming up from the creek, its still there) had a hornets nest underneath. I cautioned Ed ,but Dean kicked the log. he didn't get stung, but they were now riled up and when the rest of the group got there a few minutes later, who did they choose to sting?
The only guy (not one of the regulars) that was allergic to wasps! He had his epipen, but half the group had to bail for the emergency room.
Ouch!
One summer the bumble bees took up residence in my compost pile. Dozens of them. I learned to deal with them as they seemed to have a territory defined by an invisible box. If you did something that agitated them, like run the lawnmower, they'd chase you to the edge of that invisible box and then stop like there was a piece of glass preventing any further pursuit. It got to be kind of a game.
Well, the time came to turn the compost pile. So I asked the wife to pick up a can of wasp spray. That evening I unloaded the whole can saturating each entrance hole.
The next morning I stuck a pitchfork in the compost pile and it exploded with pissed off bumble bees.
I high tailed it to the edge of their invisible box.
They all collided with the invisible wall, except one.
He must have been the alpha bee.
He went right for my eyes. Now there's something more than salicylic acid in bumble bee venom. For about a week I looked like I'd been on the loosing end of a prize fight.
Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!
I had to climb a power pole to repair a control wire for a water district that ran from a tank down to their well and pump for a half mile or so.
Now the pole was on a property line with a six foot high block wall and the opposite neighbor had a Doberman that wanted a piece of me but could only get the canines to about five feet. I climbed up the pole and the dog barked incessantly waiting for an other chance on my descent. on the way up a carpenter bee flew back into its nest in the pole as I passed. I knew it was going to be a problem so I planted a spur right over the hole blocking his exit. It was at the height I had to work so I just kept him blocked in feeling the vibration on the spur as he tried to get at me the whole time I was making the repair.
I finished and now had a big problem. Once I unblocked the hole I'd have an angry bee after me and an angry doberman waiting below.
It was the fastest I've ever come down a pole. didn't get stung or bit.
No ouch.
A couple of years ago we got chased by a few killer bees out near Lava Dome in JTree. Fortunately we could run into a fairly stiff headwind and they didn't catch up with us.
No ouch.
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 24, 2009 - 10:56pm PT
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OUCH!
Thanks to all for your stories.
Winter 2008 the yuppie/climber posted the story about going up on his roof with dress shoes, suit & tie------and getting attacked by wasps.
I fell off my chair, and nearly hurt myself laughing, when I read it.
Anyone able to find it?------or is the guilty party able to repost?
Fritz
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Fritz
Trad climber
Hagerman, ID
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 6, 2010 - 12:46pm PT
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I finally found the story I was asking about in the previous post.
Here is the link to 2006 thread: http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=259421&msg=259532#msg259532
And the story by Gunkie:
Here's a true story that I wrote up in 1995:
"The Roof"
I got home from work yesterday and let the dogs out. I was walking around back when a gust of wind came up. The big umbrella in the middle of our picnic table lifted off like a Saturn V moon rocket. It was a neat sight to see. The umbrella had to go as high as the house (25'), it did few flips and then landed right on the apex of our garage roof. Of course it slammed a huge dent into the gutter on it's way to the bivy ledge.
Lucky for me, I had left an extension ladder up from this past weekend. I needed it to replace a flood lamp. I figured that it would be easy to climb the ladder, hop on the garage roof and recover the umbrella. But it also occurred to me that it would be a wise idea to change out of my suit/tie/shoes and put on at least a pair of sneakers, if not climbing shoes....um...nah...too much work.
My neighbors had, in the past, mentioned that they thought climbing was irresponsible. I could get hurt or killed... What the hell do my neighbors know anyway. They're dumb and I'm smart.
I thought the roof would be class 4 at worst. The "route" started off with the ladder (5.1) for about 12'. Then the route traverses left about 4' on the roof slab and goes up the slab to the apex of the garage, where the umbrella is perched. As I began traversing, some funny words popped into my head..."...remember that you didn't plan to free-solo an unknown quantity today."...umm.. where did I hear that before?
The slab began fairly easily. After the traverse, I headed up the slab where I encountered the first wasp. Must have been a scout with radio contact back to the main nest. I smacked the little guy, not too hard because I didn't want to lose my balance (not because I love wasps), and he rolled down a few feet and then stabilized himself. About this time, I noticed my feet were not sticking too well to the hot roofing shingles. It seems that the little crushed rock or sand that is used on the shingles built up on the bottom of my leather bottomed, tasseled, dress loafers. I couldn't brush the debris off the bottom of the shoes...didn't want to get my dress socks dirty...but the crap was turning into millions of ball bearings. At the same time, I heard the low droaning. I looked up into the vent window for our upper attic (above the main part of the house) and saw a lot of angry wasps hanging on their numerous paper nests...They were not very happy about me smacking their buddy or invading their turf. I promised myself that I would come back up here and spray these suckers with wasp killer.
Ok.. I'm pretty gripped now but I'm almost to the umbrella. Then I begin to slide. Thankfully, I stop after only sliding one shingle...whew! I feel very insecure now, I'm hugging the rock...er.. uh...roof like a crazed novice. I can almost hear my neighbors saying the dreaded "I told you so". I must look awfully dumb. Dressed in a $500 suit, $50 tie, $100 shoes, gripped outta my mind, sweating bullets, looking at a painful grounder, can't go up, can't go down, too proud to yell for help...my mind races for a resolution to this situation....
The first wasp got me in the right cheek, just below the eye. The next in the back of the neck...I dyno for the apex...just short...now I'm sliding, feet first on my stomach...oh please, let me hit the gutter...yes! oh no, something's wrong.... I stop.
Picture this. My upper body is plastered to the roof, my feet are in the gutter and the gutter is two feet out from the roof supported by the downspout. I'm ten feet off the ground above my wife's cherished flower garden. What the hell do I do now?
I figure I'm dead anyway...land in the flower bed...killed by wife later....try a mantle...land on my head and do a Christopher Reeves.... Better go for the flower bed.
I push off and try to get my feet under me...no go. My feet get hung up on the gutter. I land flat on my back in the flower garden, in the process mashing the maximum number of flowers.
I'm lying there thinking "I'm such an as#@&%e". I can't breath, one of the dogs is licking my face and I'm almost positive that I lying on top of an old dog turd. I really hope none of my neighbors saw what just happened.
My breath finally comes back, my toes work so I don't think I have any spinal injuries, my face and neck are swollen from the wasp stings. I'm bleeding from numerous lacerations and road rash. My suit is shredded, the toes of the shoes are gone, the Ungaro tie is trash. My shirt is torn with blood stains. My watch is broken. I leave the flower garden in it's state of devastation...I can't wait for my wife to get home.
I go inside, grab a cold beer and bleed on the couch.
The aftermath...I'm still alive today. It was almost dark when my wife got home. She never saw the garden. I told her most of what happened. She wasn't even mad that I bled on the couch. I'm telecommuting from home today. I'm really too embarrassed to go into the office. I'm all cut up. I'll probably wait until Monday.
The umbrella is still up there.
I think the farmer down the road has a big shotgun.
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