Every year in late June, Pat Calhoun gives his bees a break from the Summer heat of the North Carolina Piedmont and takes them for a spell to the cooler mountain air near Franklin, NC. Last year, he let me, a rookie beekeeper, tag along. We started loading his hives about midnight on what turned out to be the last cool night of June, beforea torrid heat wave gave us overnight highs in the 80s. The week before, Pat had robbed' a super of honey from each hive to lessen their weight. Typically, he moves the hives alone, so he goes with one deep and a super. Not too many bees were out after curfew, but some seemed concerned and curious, so we wafted a little smoke at them before lifting the first hive as gently as we could and slid it on the truck bed. Entrances weren't sealed. Well be there before they know it,' said Pat. Even so, a suspicious worker gave me a sharp reminder that I hadn't tucked my pants into my socks, stinging the tender part of my calf. Veiled, gloved, holding a flashlight in one hand and clutching the under-edge of a hive in the other, I couldn't do much about it.
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