I have slipped on algae-glazed rocks and taken headers on midstream boulders, sidestepped rattlesnakes basking in the trail, and exposed my bare legs to stinging nettles and blackberry thorns. However, none of these angling mishaps rank as high as an unexpected attack from a colony of stinging wasps.
I once raised honeybees. Wore a beekeeper’s uniform and head net while maintaining three supers in our suburban back yard. An occasional sting comes with the territory. Heard of the expression, “bees in your bonnet?” Well, I’ve been there. Their self-sacrifice sting can be forgiven because bees make honey and fragrant candles can be crafted from their wax.
Consider paper wasps, who hover over wetted cobble shorelines in late summer. A McGinty Special is an especially good fly pattern to float through broken water when you observe this behavior. At home, I often find their umbrella-like nests with a single layer of paper cells attached to the eaves, in flowering shrubs, or inside an open metal fencepost. Swat a pesky paper wasp aside, however, and they usually go about their business
Yellowjackets are an onery version of bee-sized social wasps. Their paper nests have multiple parallel layers of comb with downward-facing cells enclosed in a wood-pulp paper envelope. All you might see of an underground or burrow nest is an entrance hole with yellowjackets flying in and out. Unlike honeybees, yellowjackets can sting multiple times if disturbed.
Yellowjacket nests are at their highest populations in late summer when natural food sources begin to dwindle. Time is ripe for “hangry” individuals to visit picnic tables and outside garbage containers. They are also attracted to sugar water from hummingbird feeders. It only takes a few aggressive yellowjackets to dissuade a friendly hummingbird from enjoying their summer cocktail.
The bald-faced hornet is larger in size and black with white or ivory-colored markings. These “aerial yellowjackets” build large, rounded, papery, gray nests often seen hanging down from a streamside tree branch. Repress your curiosity and take the long way around! Bald-faced hornets will attack anyone or anything that invades their space. Like ground-nesting yellowjackets, they have smooth stingers that allows them to sting multiple times. More than once, when clambering over a pile of logs to reach the next trout hole, I’ve had bald-faced hornets attack and chase me down a river.
This past summer, I knocked down several bald-faced hornet nests that presented a hazard near our cabin. One had grown to the size of a paper lantern in the open rafters of the carport. Using a 10-foot-long pole, I knocked the nest down and ran to the truck while Nancy yelled from the passenger side seat, “You better not let any in!”
On a recent trip to our cabin, my grandson struggled to catch a trout. So, with an hour of daylight remaining I tied on a new fly, handed him the rod, and pointed to a stretch of water where I had good luck in the past. Adam quickly hooked a large rainbow trout‑ easily 12 inches long‑ and tried to horse it in. “Relax,” I said. “Let the fish wear itself out before you bring it to shore.”
No sooner did the words come out of my mouth when his trout beelined for the head of the deep hole and broke off. The number one sin in baseball is taking a called third strike. Something Seattle Mariner batters have failed to learn this season. The number one sin in fishing is losing a big fish because of a poorly tied knot. Despite of a lifetime of fishing, this sin was mine.
“No matter, there are other fish in the river,” I said. This time I put on a heavier tippet and made sure of the knot. We drove up the river to where current ran fast and strong against a shoreline reinforced with washtub-size basalt boulders. Once again Adam demonstrated skill with a fly rod and hooked a keeper-sized trout that he desperately wanted to show off for bragging rights.
I worked down uneven fractured basalt to help him land the trout, one careful step at a time. Then, out of nowhere, a cloud of yellowjackets exploded from a deep crevice and attacked me. I slapped at them like a madman and—with no visible escape route—jumped into the river. When I came up sputtering, Adam stood soaking wet on the opposite bank. Rod held loosely in one hand, fish flopping on the loose cobble shoreline, he yelled, “My eye!”
Once the coast appeared clear, I climbed up to the road where an interested bystander stood watching. “I bet that was a good show,” I said.
“Hold up your arms,” he replied. “There may be more.” True to his words, a pair of wasps held position under my armpits along with half a dozen more on my back. “You were lucky,” he said, flicking them loose. Adam waded slowly across the river, with a tight grip on his precious trout. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “My eye hurts.”
“I’d feel sorrier for you if I didn’t have a dozen stings of my own,” I replied. It could have been worse. My daughter tells the story of getting stung on her bum when she relieved her bladder in the woods.
I recently read about a novel way to eliminate ground-nesting populations of wasps without the use of poison. A generous glob of peanut butter placed near the hole can attract skunks and racoons who will dig up the nest for the protein fix. However, I wouldn’t try this if some clumsy fisherman has already stirred up the colony.
As for removing a nest, it’s best done in the dark when wasp vision is reduced. Don’t count on running fast enough to avoid their stinger during daylight hours. If attacked, keep your head down because they will instinctively go to your highest point. Jumping into a nearby river or other close waterway works as a last resort.