A man's home is his castle...

...even if he lives in a VW bus! I know, I live in Asheville, and if there is one thing that will teach you is you have NEVER seen everything. I am amazed almost daily with some new expression, idea, contraption or invention in and about Asheville.

Last Saturday, I was on my way over to Johnson City Tn when I began to run low on fuel. I stopped at a gas station in Erwin Tn and saw this particular VW bus. It was surrounded by a party of photographers and just gawkers who were laughing and shaking their heads in amazement. The owner came out to drive away just as I was snapping my second photo. He did not seem at all amused by all of the commotion.

I wondered how anyone could come up with such a creation and not expect to attract a little attention. Notice the moat drawbridge door. I guess you just park in the creek and let the door down if you want someone to come aboard. The torch like light fixtures and the stained glass added to the atmosphere, but what really topped it off was the guard tower and complete simulated rock facade. All he needed was a dragon to complete the effect. No doubt he had just come FROM Asheville and probably would end up back there.

Hot Air Balloons

As many of you know, I am interested in hot air balloons. I often have balloons landing and taking off in my yard, and I have had an association with Asheville Hot Air Balloons almost from the beginning. The company was originally Mount Pisgah Balloons and the owners, David and Erma Woods, were good friends. David trained up an apprentice, Danny Smith, and sold him the company when he got too sick to continue. Danny partnered with a high school classmate of mine, Rick Bowers, and the two have continued the very successful business with a great partnership. The name has changed, but the values of the company to provide an excellent and safe experience have continued. I have been on a number of free flights, and have assisted with chasing duties when they have needed it. I promised Rick to assist this month, as the leaf season is here and they have been having capacity flights. I did assist yesterday and today with some great flights. This morning's flight was a record of sorts for me. We put up 7 balloons and the meeting place, Mountain Java, was full to capacity when Rick and I arrived with the two 15 passenger vans. They all were wide eyed with excitement and did not seem to mind that we were gathering before the sun was even up. By the time we got to the launch area, most of the balloons were up ready for take off, or pretty far along in the process. I had easy duty today, as I only had to drive passengers, chase, and help land the balloon then pack it up with a final shuttle to the coffee shop. What a beautiful day to fly! I enjoyed it and due to my duties, had the unusual opportunity to actually take a couple of photos during the morning. I thought I would share a few here. If you are interested in a unique experience, you need to check out www.ashevillehotairballoons.com

The Right Stuff

I was just looking at some photos of space and the space program. Some of the photos included the Apollo program and moon landing. I realized that next July it will be 40 years since we first visited that world and it brought back some memories I would like to share.

I was an excited child of only 10 years old enjoying my summer vacation from school on July 20, 1969. I was excited because I had a fascination with space travel and the possibility of visiting other worlds. I had enjoyed the biographical section of the school library reading about early explorers in this world. I imagined what it must have been like to "boldly go where no man has gone before" as I watched Star Trek or Lost In Space. I even enjoyed reading or television about ocean diving. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea fascinated me for this reason. I also enjoyed fictional books about space travel as I imagined doing so myself. Now, in a few minutes, I was going to actually get to See someone step onto the surface of a new world.

I had anticipated this for days as the crew of Apollo 11 were launched toward their destination from Cape Kennedy in Florida. Speculation that they would land on the surface of this unexplored world and sink deep into the dry dust of it caused me concern for the astronauts. How did they know they would not bounce off of the moon and fly out into space, or some unknown force or being would not destroy them? It was real life exploration of an unknown world that I had only read about before and now I was going to get to see images and hear the voices as Neil Armstrong made history for mankind.

I loved the name Neil Armstrong, it was so masculine sounding and appropriate for my young child's imagination of what an explorer should be. The other names were not as important to me, because they were not the first or the commander. I wondered at how disappointing it must have been for "Buzz" Aldrin to have to watch as someone else was allowed to step onto the moon first. I then thought about the poor sap, Michael Collins, who was circling the block in the Apollo 11 Capsule, waiting on the Eagle to return to the mother ship from the moon with his crew mates. How did he get stuck with such and unrecognized but important position. So close, yet so far. I imagined him being the guy that thinks things like "always the bridesmaid, but never the bride".

I was awakened early by my father and though I could not wait to experience this history, it was summer vacation from school and I was already used to sleeping in every morning. (I later learned this event had actually taken place after I had gone to bed the night before at 11:56pm and this was just a replay, but it was a new event in my mind) I remembered eating breakfast while listening to the T.V., something that just was not done in our household. We always turned the television off when the family gathered around the table for our meals. This day was different, because today the world's history would change forever. I could scarcely wait any longer, as I had very little patience. I wanted to cut to the chase and fast. I always saw situations resolved quickly in thirty minute television shows and this seemed to drag on and on. I finished eating and still, those astronauts were in their capsule, the Eagle, sitting on the surface of the moon. It seemed so long since the words, "The Eagle has landed" were broadcast to the universe. I remembered how quickly I jumped out of the car when we traveled across North Carolina from Asheville to Wilmington to visit my grandmother. That was only a one day trip, and I wondered if the Astronauts were as eager to get out of the "car".

Would this be the moment, I wondered, as the television announcer, Jules Bergman, described what was to happen soon. In a moment, history was happening too fast it seemed. Neil Armstrong stepped down the ladder from the Eagle. I remember the video being too grainy and hard to see. It did not help that we lived in a "shadow" of the television antenna high on top of 5700 foot mount Pisgah and never had good reception anyway. This was before cable and satellite television and we only got three channels over the air. I recall going outside to adjust the antennae while dad called instructions out the door of the house. "A little more to the right, now left, easy, there, that is perfect!" I would get in to find perfect was a relative term. Neil stepped onto the moon and made that famous statement which I heard live, "One small step for man, one giant leap for macccgghhhhttt". What did he say? It had to be mankind, but it was garbled with static at the end. I was so disappointed that the moment was not perfect. Was it our T.V., or was it the transmission from the moon? It turned out the original transmission was a bit garbled at the end, but we know he did say, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind" What perfect words these were. Short concise and so true they were. What else could I expect from a man named Armstrong?

I remember watching for more T.V. footage of the activities on the moon and feeling let down, because I wanted to see more. I wanted this to last and last so I could explore with them. Then, all too soon it seemed, they got back inside the Eagle and blasted back to the Apollo capsule. I was relieved that my heroes were safely able to break free from the moon and the mission was a success so far. I imagined what questions Michael Collins must have had ready to ask Armstrong and Aldrin when they docked back with his craft. I thought of the wast as the Eagle was jettisoned to make the return back to earth.

It seemed no time that the Apollo 11 capsule splashed down in the ocean and the crew was picked up. I remember the quarantine to be sure no diseases or organisms were present to destroy our world and the relief to find there were none. I remember the disbelief of adults that were saying this was all staged and we never landed on the moon. How could they not believe a man named Neil Armstrong? If for no other reason, his name was so American he had to be the real thing. I was just glad to be able to be a part of the generation that got to experience the men with "the right stuff."

Survivor Bee Colonies

I have spent a good part of my summer in 2008 collecting European honeybee colonies from hollow trees in the forest and from man made structures. These colonies usually have one thing in common in that I can document they have been surviving without human management for 2 to 5 years. Now, getting these bees to survive the winter is number one on my priority so I have been feeding them heavily. These bees are going to be an important part of my breeding program for the future. I am committed to non-chemical beekeeping. I strongly believe we need to stop using all chemicals in the hives at all costs, so we can achieve an equilibrium between the mites and bees. Using chemicals only makes the mites stronger and this will never allow us to live with the mites. I am selecting from the survivor bees with natural resistance as well as not using chemicals so the mites will regress to a stable bee and mite relationship. I am breeding for gentleness, propolis production (for assistance against disease), honey production, hardiness in the Southern Appalachians, Honey production, resistance to the mites and disease without chemicals, and hygienic behavior. As you can see from the photos, gentleness is already a trait. I hope to be selling some of this stock, from this years breeding, next summer.

Scarecrow Festival

Today was my third Lake Julian Park Scarecrow festival. I had no honey left to sell, so took the playhouse I constructed for the Buncombe County Beeschool. I built one last year for raffle, and the winner gave it back to us. I was building one just like it for another customer last Christmas. I got sick before the one I was building was finished, so I substituted the one from the bee club in its place. I finished the replacement and am going to sell it outright, instead of raffling it. Lots of children loved playing in it today and I got several good leads on selling it. Hopefully, I will have it sold soon and the bee school will benefit from it. Maybe I will even get a few more orders for my trouble.

Bees and mites

It seems that when the Varroa Mites began damaging our bee population, many of the commercial beekeepers bought into the wisdom of the pesticide industry. This mentality permiated much of the beekeeping world and it was declared that bees could not survive without chemical treatments. Those treatments began selection for a super mite which the bees really could not survive without assistance of some sort.

As real wisdom finally caught on, we realized that not only were we selecting for a super mite by using increasingly more toxic chemicals, we were harming our bees also and now they really are failing even with all the assistance we can give them. I began beekeeping in 2004 and decided to not use chemicals even if I lost my bees. My goal was to find and select for a bee that was tolerant of the mites.

I also began searching the wilds for feral bees that managed to survive without assistance to selectively breed for resistance in my stock. I have now made it until 2008 with no chemicals and I have raised queens from my best stock with great results. I CAN raise bees without chemicals and they are doing better than the bees of my friends who use chemicals.

Many experts believe there are no surviving feral bees and all the bees that were believed to be feral are actually swarms that escaped from managed colonies. A New York forest called the Argone Forest seems to have proven there are feral bees still in existance without management and they are surviving without chemicals.

My first thought was these bees must have naturally adapted to the mites. Studies now show that that may have happened to a degree, but mostly, the mites adapted to the bees. A good parasite does not kill its host, and these mites seem to have regressed to a point that they can live with the bees without killing them.

I find this amazing. Had we allowed this natural process to go on in our colonies instead of using chemicals, we may have actually been able to live with the mites instead of creating a super mite and poisoning our bees. Maybe someday we will learn to think about our interventions before we make matters worse.

I love the Olympics

The Olympics have always been one of my favorite events. As a child I used to listen to the majestic theme song as the prime time telecast came on. I recall seeing the best of the best compete in amateur athletics. It seems there was always a compelling story to tickle my imagination and push me to try harder to be my best in whatever I did myself. These were role models that shaped my being. I even welcomed the addition of professional athletes, because this meant there was no doubt that the competitors really were the best of the best. I only recall two bad tastes in my mouth as I feasted on this epic occasion that only came around every four years in my youth.

The first bad taste came in the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City when several American sprinters laughed, joked and disrespected the American flag as they were presented their medals for sprinting victories. I was glad when their medals were stripped from them because my feeling was the best of the best included being the best sportsman also.

The second bad taste came in the 1972 Munich games when the horror of all horrors happened and terrorists captured and killed much of the Israeli team. I had found it very cool that every four years all nations could put aside their differences and become sportsmen that got along while showing their best side in attitude, performance, and etiquette. This traumatic event spoiled the Olympic spirit of those games and the only thing that pulled me through was the resolve to let the games go on even if on a somber note. Mark Spitz winning 7 gold medals while setting 7 world records was an unbelievable event but would be forever overshadowed by the terrorists horrible act. That act shaped my feelings about the lack of humanity in terrorists and the belief that we can only defeat terrorism by not being terrified.

The terrible events of 1972 calloused me to other events that paled in comparison and the steroid scandals went unnoticed by me to a large degree though it did disgust me. I enjoyed most Olympics tremendously after that and came to realize that my single most enjoyable event in the games is also the shortest event. That event only takes a little over nine seconds to complete from start to finish. This event is the 100 meter dash when the title of worlds fastest human is issued.

I found myself enjoying the Beijing Olympics of 2008 tremendously because of the heroics of the dolphin-esque Michael Phelps as he shattered Mark Spitz's 1972 feat by winning 8 gold medals, setting 7 world records and one Olympic record. This was a fantastically marvelous feat and was a nice appetiser to my favorite event the men's 100 meter dash.

The 2008 100 meter dash field featured the reigning world record holder, the reigning world champion and the former world record holder. It appeared to be shaping up to be a race of Olympic dreams to tell your grand children about. I watched with intensity as the race shaped up and was already savoring the replay as the starter gun sounded. The field was quick out of the blocks except for 6'5" Usain Bolt of Jamaica, the world record holder. At about the 60 meter mark, Bolt caught the field as his long powerful stride got into rhythm. I was anticipating his smoking the field at this point and he sure was until the 80 meter mark, when he slowed his stride. It was bizarre to watch Bolt actually slowing down while he was still pulling away from the field. He then turned and looked at his nearest competitor and looked at the camera then pounded his chest as he slowed to almost a jog across the finish line setting a new world record and winning a gold medal.

Usain, you robbed us all of seeing you, the greatest 100 meter sprinter of all time, actually perform your best. I could not believe that the best sprinters in the world, giving their best, could be disrespected so by one of their competitors. Then you further insulted us with your childish antics that disrespected you and your country. I have revisited Mexico City by watching you and feel you too deserve to have your gold medal taken. You did not perform your best and you do not deserve this honor.