Holy Hannah!!!! Jack Hardy got the best of me. You won't believe what I fell for! We, that is Jack and I, were driving along the Salmon River, and I pointed at a hornets' nest in the top of a tree on a rock island. "Jack, look at that giant hornets' nest. I think they are pretty cool looking and I always wanted one for a decoration in the log house.

     "How do you tell if the nests are dormant so I can go get one?"

     Jack chuckled, "Well, Tracker, they're dormant now. Why don't you go get that one?"

     I stomped on the brakes, parked the truck and said, "Let's go for it!"

     Since the hornets' nest was on the top of the tree at the edge of an island, we had to find a way to get across a narrow part of the river. The water was too deep to wade and as luck would have it Mother Nature provided a way. A beaver had just felled a big tree that reached across to the island. I thought to myself, "Well, this is going to be easy."

     Jack went across the log first. He had to take it slowly, like he was working his way across a set of monkey bars, only these were branches protruding vertically from the log. He made it look easy, like a seasoned gymnast working his routine.

     Being impatient I wanted to get there quickly; I grabbed the branches and swung my body around. Big mistake! When I reached the middle of the log, one of the limbs I grabbed was dead and broke lose with me swinging my body around. Kersplash! I landed in the river! Jack doubled over in laughter while I sat in the river with my pipe still in my mouth and the broken limb in my hands. What a picture I must have made!

     "Come on, Tracker, the tree's only thirty yards away," he gasped between chuckles.

     The water was icy cold, and I failed to see the humor in any of this. The real adventure was yet to come, and I was totally unaware of what was to happen next.

     After getting to the trunk of the tree which had the hornets' nest, we looked up and watched the nest for about five minutes. We agreed it must be dormant because there were no hornets buzzing around, nor any other visible activity. We studied the tree. The nest was at the end of a finger-sized branch about fifteen feet in the air, hanging over the river. Jack said, "Just crawl up there about ten feet, stand on that big limb, reach up and break the limb off with the nest attached. It looks like a piece of cake to me!"

     "Sure, you're not the one climbing the tree!"

     "No, but you've got at least six inches on me and with your reach, it's a lot easier for you."

     Talk about being out on a limb. I crawled up the tree, and while standing on the biggest limb, ten feet over the water, I gazed up at the nest. It was definitely within reach. I reached out and gave it a little, tiny shake to make sure there were no hornets. There wasn't any activity.

     Jack yelled out, "Stop pussy footing around. Give that branch a good yank and break it off. I'm getting hungry and want to get home to dinner."

     "All right, Jack. Hold on! I want to get home as much as you do; I am freezing! I was just being cautious."

     I reached up and grabbed the limb with both hands and gave it a good yank, but the limb wouldn't break. It was too green. I kept pulling, causing the nest to wave around like a banner, but was not having any success in breaking it off. I gave it one last jerk with all my weight, pulling myself in the air. As I came down with the nest, I broke the branch I had been standing on and all the others on the way down the trunk. They gave way like toothpicks. I was in the river again! Kersplash!

     Meanwhile, Jack is busting up with laughter again. He was quite entertained as was the beaver who was puzzled by all the commotion. I, on the other hand, was in the river with branch in hand and a swarm of hornets coming out of the nest. Holy Hannah! It wasn't dormant. There were hundreds of angry hornets, whose home I had ruined, ready for war. They stung me eleven times before I threw the nest in the river and the rest of them escaped.

     Jack yelled from the bank, "Hey, Tracker, there goes your nest. It's empty now! Aren't you going after it?"

     Soaking wet, bleeding from the scratches from my fall, in pain from the stings, I yelled, "Are you kidding?!? Do I look stupid?"

     We got back to the truck. I wasn't in the mood to talk, and Jack was still chuckling. Around the next bend, he pointed out another hornets' nest. Before he could say, "That one looks dormant," I yelled, "No! No! No!"