WATCH OUT FOR THE SMALL WILDLIFE TOO!   BJ Ammons

 

Living in the mountains, I have always been aware of the dangers of wildlife. I slow down at night and keep an attentive eye at the reach of my headlight. I watch for a pair of eyes glowing in the roadway. Hopefully they are looking my way. I've had a few close encounters. A coyote and a possum. We all survived the scare and are wiser for it.

I've also learned to cover my motorcycle anytime It's left out of the garage overnight. I've come out in the morning to muddy raccoon tracks, meandering from one end of the truck to the other, leaving a few scratches along the way. Not on my bike!

A few weeks ago, I washed my 06 Road King Custom, polished the chrome and treated the leather. All in anticipation of riding with friends the coming Saturday. I was working on the garage and didn't want some errant nail or falling lumber anywhere near my bike. So I parked it in the yard, covered it and considered it safe and at my ready.

The next day, Tuesday, we had an onset of rain for 4 hours. I considered my cover to be, well, basically waterproof and if anything, a quick touch-up will handle any remains of the thunderstorm.

I thought nothing else of it and late Friday evening, I almost went out for a midnight ride. I say almost. I decided not to do so and the significance of this will hit you soon.

The next morning, I was tying up loose ends as riders were arriving in anticipation of a nice ride on an incredibly beautiful day. I grabbed my gear and headed out the door. As I pulled the cover off my bike, I realized something was amiss. I have upper middle aged eye sight and it took a moment to zero in on the problem. My bike was completely covered with ants!

I stood in amazement for a few silent moments and then I got mad. I said something decisive like, "I'll take care of this!'  and I brought the beast to life. Yes, It scared the hell out of them and I'm sure, they were all sorry they had taken refuge here. However, it did nothing to reduce their numbers and they were in emergency mode. I shut it down and began to ponder my options.

It's amazing how easy it is for someone to give advice, with infinite certainty, when it is not their problem. "I'd cover it back up and light off one of those bug bombs". Was one suggestion. "I'd just spray it down with insecticide." was another. Neither of these ideas interested me. I did not want my bike smelling like insecticide and I just couldn't handle the idea of thousands of little dead ant bodies sloshing back and forth in the frame rails for decades to come. Another friend said, "I'd just get on it and ride like hell."  Ya know, he would do it.

I reluctantly came to the realization, I was not riding today. Leaving for breakfast on 4 wheels, I was certain that poor little scout who found this dry haven, was being summarily executed and when I returned, his little head would be on a pike at the bottom of the kick-stand, warning everyone to flee for their lives!

By now, you all know where this is going. Upon my return, they were all organized, in several trails, moving eggs from the lower frame rails to upper frame rails. I of course, fired it up again, as if to say, "Didn't you hear me ... I said ... GET OUT!!" It was then I came up with the first great plan. "I'll smoke em out"! I spent the rest of the day, with a pack of cigarettes and a straw. Blowing smoke into the frame rails and starting it up often to keep it uncomfortably warm. I sprayed the grass with ant killer around the stand and wheels, figuring I would chase them off and gas them in the jungle. I closed the day almost certain the rest would leave by morning.

Day two dawns and I realize this looks no different than yesterday. They haven't vacated. In fact they are now building nests in several locations. "I have to get this off the grass"! I jumped on for the 50' ride to the driveway. Came through relatively unscathed and with the compressor within reach, I handily blew the ants off of myself ... and then the second great plan came to me. "I'll just stir em up and blow em off"!

For the next six hours or so, the neighbors are being introduced to a little known biker ritual. Similar to the Mexican hat dance, this is the "Harley ant dance". You start it up, get them running and then blow them off. Once they are out on the concrete they are fair game for stomping on! I was taking them out by the hundreds! I also took the precaution of soaking the concrete around the stand and wheels with poison so once off, they couldn't climb aboard. By the end of the day, the body count was in the tens of thousands and confidence was high.

Day three and I do believe I am winning the battle. Only a few stragglers around and I decide it's time for the "get on it and ride like hell plan". I did a quick 20 miles up and down the highway, brought it home and with a close look, declared the infestation handled! I walked away for thirty minutes and when I returned, you guessed it, there was a trail of ants moving freely up and down the kick-stand hauling in provisions. I now realized, it was time to bring in the big guns!

My son kept saying, "you've got to get the queen. And since you've threatened them, there are mostly likely several queens". So the next great plan ...  find the queens. I removed the seat, side covers, bags and to make a long week short, spent the next four days with a gallon of ant killer, hunting down queens. I found nests in the seat, a rear shock cover, saddle bag rails, and frame rails. I would spray poison and then wash the bike. Eventually by the next week-end, I had won the war.

Finally, I'm enjoying a nice ride along the mountain highway I live on and contemplating the dangers of not only the occasional deer or even bear crossing the highway, but the small wildlife too. Making mental notes about never parking in the yard again and picking up some ant chalk to carry in my bags. I also wondered, if I had taken that midnight ride, how long would it have taken me to realize I was covered with ants!  Right about then, I look down and see a member of the rebel force left behind, clinging for dear life to the gas cap. I don't even hesitate.... I just cast him into the void.

 

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