We found it.

-Posted by Isaac

This past week we found Montana.

The Montana we know- mountains and trails, bees and trees.

We're in love with this state.

We love it, and we miss it, and we get back any time we can.

Big Sky Country!

The mountains, the forests, the rivers, the water, the snow, the air, the people, the wildlife. All magical. All lovely.

And love was certainly in the air on this trip.

So was music.

Jayne was quickly in her element at the Red Ants Pants Festival. This was in White Sulfur Springs, a summer music festival that attracts thousands. One of the headliner bands was her latest favorite- Shovels and Rope.

I kind of think the whole trip was planned around seeing these guys. Jayne has been a Shovels and Rope groupie of late. And I'm happy to tag along. Next stop, West Virginia.

But we'll say we did it for our kids. This trip, I mean. We'll say that we planned it specifically for them to experience the wonderful west. And to get them off those damn devices for a while.

We dumped the youngest two on Grandma and brought the oldest, Mason, 10 and Maizy, 8.

We thought they were old enough to handle some real hiking.

And real camping.

As you can see, they're slackers.

So Mama led the way.

We hiked just about every day, camped just about every night. Each morning, I'd take a run and almost always come across some beehives.

Sometimes it was worth coming back for a photo.

As you may know, beekeeping is an industry out there. And as you may also know, I worked in the industry for about a year. 

In fact, I got so excited seeing a commercial bee truck rumble by, we stalked the guy several miles until he pulled in to the extracting facility.

By this point, Maizy was so mortified that I was planning to jump out and talk bees, we decided that we'd just pass on by and leave them to their work.

But we still kept finding the same company's bee yards scattered throughout that beautiful country. Worth at least another picture.

It was obviously a big operation. Surely multi-thousands of hives.

When I worked in the Bitterroot Valley for Wayne Morris, we had a smallish operation- around 5000 hives. This was in 2005.

While I labored away in the bees, Jayne was getting her masters just north in Missoula. 

We of course had to pay the university a visit and show the kids. We secretly hope we have some future Griz in the litter.

But we didn't linger. The mountains and trails of Glacier Park were calling. I have to say, the kids handled it as well as could be expected. One day was a twelve miler. Not bad for an eight year old.

Mountain hiking wasn't the only thing on the menu. A couple days after that monster hike, we were scrambling up to some hidden hot springs. 

Perched high and dry in the hills, these springs were a favorite of ours in 2005. It was romantic... a bottle of wine and a tent. 

Bringing two kids has a way of dulling the romance, but it also presents an opportunity to discuss Rocky Mountain geology and the bedrock configuration that leads to these geothermal processes. Maizy was spellbound. 

Not to mention the opportunity for a geothermal selfie. (Not bad for a 38 year old.)

Food Deserts

-Posted by Isaac

Well, the rains came back, didn't they?

 Farmers are loving it. And so are the ducks.

But bees and beekeepers, not so much. The nectar flow has basically ended in our little corner of the world.

But that's ok... the three weeks previous have been fantastic. 

Remember the wonderfully uncomfortable first week of July? 95 degrees and bright sun? The bees were packing it in.

Some did better than others.

My favorite quarterly publication came yesterday.

Toward the back, I read an article where the author was calculating the unimaginable number of flowers it takes to produce a honey crop. And he also stated that after June, the Ohio honey flows were virtually over. That bees have nothing but the "food deserts" of corn and soybeans.

Hmmm...

We must have magic bees.

If you had already taken off the spring honey, you easily recognize that all this magic happened within a heat-soaked span of about three weeks- late June to mid July. Our little wizards were busy. 

Really busy.

Where did all this honey come from? Magic? Hmm...

It was a forgivable offense. Most wouldn't know. Not everyone harvests honey three times a year. One of which- the summer harvest- coming from a "food desert." 

If the conditions are right, soybeans can be awesome. And this year they were.

But maybe only for nectar? As far as pollen is concerned, the summer really is a food desert. And pollen is the most important part of the bees' diet. So we combat this problem with a little pollen substitute. I completed round one this week.

It's not an easy job. You have to lift all those supers off, split the brood boxes...

...and give the bees a nice dollop of protein right where they need it. But not too much... if you put much over two pounds, more than the bees can finish in a week or so, you are basically just feeding hive beetles with the remainder.

Then everything gets put back together, and it's on to the next hive. Everybody will get five or six pounds of protein between now and mid September when the goldenrod starts. It's hard work to combat a food desert.

But you pace yourself. I can knock out about five yards over a six hour day. That means every hive gets a shot of protein every two weeks. And not long weeks. Thirty hours of feeding bees leaves plenty of extra time for hiking. Or just sitting and thinking.

Maybe there really is some magic in beekeeping.

Speciality Honey, 2018

-Posted by Isaac

Just a little update on our efforts in the production of these two:

One was a success. So far, the other hasn't quite panned out.

So the good news first- the tulip poplar. For two years in a row, our bee yards in the hills have been a bright spot. And not only with honey production. I split these hives twice this spring before letting them do their thing. The second split came in early May with the tulip poplar bloom only a couple weeks away. I worried that maybe it was a mistake, that I'd taken their workforce. But it turned out just fine. They already had such momentum.

It's an hour drive to these girls, so I don't make it as often as I'd like. What a surprise when I returned in July! Honey! 

The girls did good.

About a thousand pounds of 2018 tulip poplar.

It almost makes me want to put in another bee yard down there. But I've learned... not every year pans out. In fact, most don't.

And on that note, let's talk about the buckwheat.

We had a decent stand this spring. The 14 acres we rented around our place came up and bloomed right on schedule. Sure, it was a little weedy...

...but every morning the bees were out there working hard. Weeds or no weeds, the honey should have been rolling in. There were plenty of flowers. But it wasn't to be. I pulled the supers from about thirty hives at the end of June, and it was minimal. We may have averaged 5-10 lbs per hive. (About like the rest of the spring crop.) And the honey wasn't even black like it should have been. It was more of a light brown, resembling our fall honey. The bees must have mixed that dark buckwheat nectar with a lot of the late April honeysuckle. 

Oh well, back to the drawing board.

I had my farmer along for the next round.

(Ok, maybe more than a little weedy...)

To the relief of my dad, and all the farmers who can't stand the sight of weeds, we tilled everything back under. The great thing about buckwheat is that you can get multiple blooms over the course of a season. From seed to flower, it only takes 6 weeks.

So things are now cleaned up...

...and we wait to see what the next generation will bring us.

Sun Worshipping

-Posted by Isaac

When the sun is bright and high, when the July heat is baking us, when the vast green fields of soybeans are a'bloom, when the summer feels like it ought, I like to check the bees. I like to do it alone, lost in my thoughts. And every now and then, I like to bring company and get lost in bee talk. It's hard to convince my kids to come along. The truth is, they're sick of bee talk. 

But sometimes it's just a matter of an easy bribe.

If you're a beekeeper, a few things make you very happy. White wax would be one of them. When you pop a lid and see a fringe of white new wax lining the frames. This means the nectar is flowing!

I start happy, and my happiness grows with every yard. Driving around, talking about bee life and nectar and honey and heat and growth, stopping to walk the fields and ditches, checking for foraging, contemplating the beauty... awed by the wealth... breathing sweet and lucid air... taking it all in.

It's sublime.

I can't speak for all of us, but when I check bees, I live in an exhilarating virtual world- my head. It's intoxicating, almost addictive. It's selfish. Like the Robert Earl Keen song, 'I am guilty of a dreadful selfish crime.' I love to sneak away to my job. 

And even if I can't sneak away to the bees, if the sun is shining, it's a simple joy just to sneak into the light. And think. Sunlight- millions of years old, these photons. Born of nuclear fusion deep in the sun, struggling to the surface, released, traveling 92 million miles in eight minutes, striking my eye, warming my face, making me happy.

Truly sublime.

Truly.

Some things got done on the bee farm this week. A few big ones, many small. The biggest by far was the work of the bees. They're busy paying our bills.

But a second big happening was what we did yesterday- concrete. 34 yards. Wow! I actually had this big pad formed up and ready to go in March.

But as you may remember, March was miserable. Too cold, too wet. Then came April and we got busy with bees. And continued busy through May and June. Finally things have stabilized and the bees are busy doing their important work. Now we have time to spend the big bucks on our not-so-important projects. Keeping this economy juiced like the true American consumers we are. Buying things we don't really need. 

Funny, I felt strangely patriotic writing those checks. 

What a difference a day makes.

But not just any day. A July day. A sunny day. Huge difference! For two full weeks we've had the sun factor going for us, and it's been the most productive two weeks of the year. Not only from the bee standpoint. Not only from the project standpoint. The sun is the engine for so many important things. Fishing, swimming, boating, camping, etc...

The work never ends.

We jumped into all of it this week.

Not to mention eating. The sun drives it all. This week the sweetcorn came on.

So we had a party.

My brother, the sweetcorn grower, turned 41 on Tuesday. He gifted all us piggies with fire-cooked corn. Little Arlo showed us that sweetcorn is not an acquired taste. You love it from your first bite. 

We've been sweetcorn connoisseurs for generations. And this year is about the best ever. The dry planting, the rainy June, the hot hot July... all contributing to an awesome juicy bite. And what force drives them all? -The dry, the rain, the heat, the juice? -The Sun! 

Not everyone knows this. Even journalists get it wrong sometimes. Even supposedly educated people. Last week the Onion newspaper and their stupid scientists tried to pin it on some sort of astrological phenomenon.

But I was pleased to see that one astute fact-checker caught'm with their pants down.

I totally agree. Liberals never sees to amaze me either.

Looking for the rainbow

-Posted by Isaac

You've got to look for the rainbow in everything, right?  Isn't that what they say?

Here's our rainbow from a few days ago.

It was a nice little gesture from our good friend, Mother Nature. This was after the beatdown she served us just moments before.

We're still cleaning up the mess.

Let me try to take this rainbow analogy a bit further. If you've been following this blog for the last few months, you know that I'm an adept complainer. Aside from the stupidity of people and politics (and people in politics), aside from the many mechanical breakdowns and expenses, you know that my one never-ending complaint is the weather. The ridiculous weather. Too cold, too wet, too windy... I've been bleating about it all spring. 

The ridiculous weather. And we have a very minimal spring honey crop to show for it.

The last few supers were run through this week.

Grand tally: about one tenth of last year's crop.

It's gorgeous honey though. Light, floral and delicate- my favorite of the seasons. Thankfully we still have a decent reserve of the 2017 and 2016 spring honey.

But here's the rainbow: although it wasn't much of a spring for making honey, the hives were all split in April, most have new queens, and the bees are looking awesome. The girls are strong and the weather is starting to come around. The soybeans are blooming and the heat is upon us!

When it's sunny, mid nineties, mid Ohio, mid July, it's honey making time. Go out and shake a frame, see for yourself.

Nectar!

With strong bees, plentiful blooms, and perfect conditions, the boxes really start to fill.

We're going to have summer honey! 

How much is entirely dependent on how long these perfect conditions last.

There's still a debate among Ohio beekeepers about the source of this summer honey. To my mind, it's obvious- the soybeans. That's what's out there in plenty, that's what's blooming. But some still say it comes from clover. Last week I got a text from fellow beekeeper, Dan Williams. He was excited about the sudden nectar flow and heavy shakes. Just a week previous, the frames had been bone dry. He said he found bees working the soybeans, but also working the dutch clover pretty hard. That struck me as strange. I had thought that the bees mostly ignored the clover once the soybeans came on. The next day I was in a bee yard, and nearby was a perfect situation to observe the relative attractiveness. Soybeans vs. clover:

And guess what I found- Dan wasn't lying. They were all over that clover. But you'd walk a few yards into the soybeans, and find bees all over those blooms too. They were working both.

So maybe there is a little Ohio honey to be had from clover. Maybe I need to cool it with my insistence that it's all the soybeans. I don't know. But I do know what there's more of...

In terms of quantity, soybeans beat clover by at least an order of magnitude. It wasn't always like this. In the good old days there was not only clover in the ditches and fence rows, we had something else littering our farm fields. They were called weeds. Weeds! Bane to grain farmers, banquet for bees. 

 So if you're a honeybee in July, your diet isn't necessarily diverse, but at least there's nectar to be had. Plenty of it when the conditions are right. Some of us beekeepers are trying to get to the bottom of what exactly those conditions are. It seems to me, hot, dry and sunny make a winning combination. Sunny being the most important variable of the three.

One other side debate that comes up from time to time is what variety of soybean the bees go to. Beans bloom out in two colors- purple and white. Usually it's an entire field planted in one or the other. In our area, purple seems to be more prevalent. A few beekeepers are adamant about knowing which the bees like best. I distinctly remember one old fella telling me that you'll never see a honeybee on a white soybean bloom. 

I like to keep that conversation in mind when I walk the soybeans. Last Sunday Eden and I took a little inspection trip. It was around 85 degrees and the bees were hard at it. You could hear them everywhere. Sorry I don't have a good photo... they move so fast from bloom to bloom and it's under the canopy where it's hard to snap a picture. But trust me, they were making honey that day. We chased the buzzing for five minutes or so. It was fun. And guess what color of bloom those bees were wild about:

Another myth debunked.

I guess I already knew this one wasn't true. I had seen bees work the whites before. But never this hard. Maybe the old fella needed to do more soybean walking.

Or maybe he just forgot his good luck Batgirl.