In a recent post wiggling in was mentioned. I'm probably going to show my age here but it brings back lots of memories from the 70's and 80's of hours spent setting up optimal random lines and /or relocation centerlines that could be run without striking something large. I remember one in particular where we were trying to parallel offset a section line fence. As we were hooking line through head high weeds and brush a decaying smell kept getting stronger and stronger. We discovered we had set the line up to run over a dead cow bloated to about twice its normal size. Nothing like working in those conditions on a hot and humid summer day. I'm just glad we didn't accidently hit it with the brush hook and make it explode.?ÿ
The brush hook would probably bounce off with no penetration.
Three of us were clearing line once.?ÿ One of the others and I had paused at a mass of vines covering a huge dead stump.?ÿ In the silence we both realized the stump was swarming with red wasps.?ÿ We looked at each other.?ÿ Say no more, we retreated.?ÿ Just about that time the third guy passed us with an attitude and his brush hook held high as he headed for the mess.?ÿ We cried out but to no avail.?ÿ
I remember how helpless a human looks when writhing in immediate intense pain.?ÿ ?ÿAnd I guess that's as close to a human "death howl" as I have ever heard.?ÿ
With possibly his last cognitive effort he thrashed about blind and headed back down line.?ÿ The blood-curdling howls continued as he distanced himself.?ÿ The two of us that were unhurt never moved a step during the initial onslaught,?ÿ but we did make our way out to find him...possibly deceased.?ÿ We found him on the tail gate half buried in a Covey jug full of ice water.?ÿ I mentioned mercy killing but medical aid was a little more appropriate.?ÿ
A trip to a not-so-close ER provided some relief.?ÿ They pumped him full of stuff and kept him for "observation".?ÿ I was the last to leave him and his wife at about 10 PM.?ÿ We counted over 50 stings without lifting up the covers.?ÿ He looked like a swollen ripe persimmon shot with a .410.?ÿ It wouldn't have surprised me if that had ended his surveying career.
To our surprise the day after next he was back at work.?ÿ He was still a bit swollen and bruised but in pretty good spirits.?ÿ He was mad as hell when he discovered neither of the other two of us had been stung.
Good ol' days indeed...
?ÿ
I'm just glad we didn't accidently hit it with the brush hook and make it explode.?ÿ
Glad I read this. I'm about ready to eat my supper.
