The other evening, Mark and I toppled a bottle filled with gasoline into the hole that led to a yellow jackets' nest. This was to kill the entire hive while we remained in a relative safe zone. The method is a tried and true one that has been passed down from generation to generation. Waiting until after dark assures that most of the wasps will be inside the hive and the danger is almost nil. The idea is to shove a bottle filled with gasoline into the mouth of the hole in one clean, swift move. The yellow jackets are trapped inside and the fumes can do their thing. We felt confidant that the entire colony had perished.
This morning, Mark checked the nest and nary a yellow jacket was to be found. Curiosity got the best of us so he grabbed a shovel and started to dig. Years ago, he did the same thing and dug up a rather large nest. It was interesting to see and taught the kids a lesson about being careful when playing outdoors. They were amazed at the number of wasps that were inside the hive. This morning's dig proved to be even more impressive as this nest was far larger. The nest had five tiers with many of the cells filled with eggs or larvae. Over 500 adult yellow jackets had also perished.
While I am all for the mantra of "Live and let live" when it comes to something potentially dangerous, I have no qualms about eradicating the problem. The wasps in this hive alone could cause great injury or even death to a person or animal. Right after we had placed the bottle in the nest, we got word that a local lady died of a single wasp sting. It was heartbreaking to hear the news and made us even more thankful that we found this nest before anyone got stung. Yellow jackets are not something to mess with. Their nests are underground and are often unseen until it is too late. It is best to be wary of where you step!
Several times, I have written about docile bees and wasps that inhabit the gardens. Honeybees, Leafcutter Bees, Mason Bees and even the Great Golden Digger Wasp come and go as they please without any intentions of attacking. They do their things and I do mine. We have a mutual respect for each other and all is well. Even Paper Wasps, as notorious as they are as stingers, tolerate my presence within a certain distance. Those, however, are on my list of "no-likes". Then, there are the grouches of the Bayou. The foul tempered, mean, cranky wasps known as Yellow Jackets. Those things top the "no-like" list and are on the "destroy, annihilate, obliterate, wipe-off-the-face-of-the-earth" list. I guess you can say that I do not care for them. I have been stung far too many times by the nasty tempered critters to ever think they are good for anything. They stalk our fish cleaning table, crowd the compost and hide their underground nests right where I need to mow.
This afternoon during my hike about the hillside, I noticed yet another golden bee type critter buzzing about the ground. Hmmm, this called for a closer inspection. Perhaps that was a hasty decision because before I knew it, I was in "stinging range" of an underground hive. The large bee-like critter was none other than the new queen working her new hive. After a winter of hibernation, she had created a new hive and already had her first batch of workers thriving below the soil. Queen Yellow Jackets single-handedly raise the first generation of her hive. After they become adult wasps, she sits back and lets them dote on her as she becomes nothing more than an egg factory.
I watched the queen as she busied herself around the area and noticed that she was entering a rotted log near the marsh. Aha! I will keep watch on this lady for the next few days until I find that telltale hole which is the entrance to her hive. Then, after the sun has slid down behind the pines, I shall apply Pop's remedy to the wasp problem. A long necked bottle filled with gasoline will be upended in the tunnel. By morning, nary a wasp will have lived to tell the tale of a sudden odor of gas seeping into their hive. Pop and Mark both have killed hundreds of hives with this method without nary a sting. Hopefully, I shall be just as successful. I am just glad I spied her before cutting the grass this next week. This could have been a very different story....a much more painful one. Yellow Jackets are not a favorite by far!
