The walking mare shook her head vigorously and I leaned forward to brush the fly off her right ear. Instantly I saw the "fly" was golden. "It’s yellow jackets." I yelled the alarm.

About the same time, several other people realized we had been traveling over too close to a nest of bees. "It’s yellow jackets." was the call passed up and down the line of riders traveling through the beautiful woodland trail at Norman Fowler’s Birdsong Trail Ride in middle Tennessee.

"Melani, there are bees swarming all around your horse!" Billie Browning yelled at me.

The next actions proved we were riding with fifty or more very experienced trail riders. The lead riders did not waste any time blocking the escape route. A herd of horses headed out fast around the trail, down the narrow rut that water had washed out leading off the steep hill and across the little holler toward safety.

As we hurried away, I remember another story about yellow jackets. Sara Copley’s horse had been tied in a nest of yellow jackets last year when riding near her home at Fort Gay, West Virginia. A friend had told her, "Let me tie that horse up for you. You tie him too low down."

When it was noticed later the walking gelding and old mule stomping the ground, the riders realized the animals were tied up on a yellow jacket’s nest. Sara ran in to rescue her horse. She unable to free Silver because she could not reach high enough to untie the reins.

The bees attacked her and covered her up. Sara fought to get her horse and she fought the yellow jackets. Finally, it was just too much and Sara gave up to the assault. She bent over toward the ground, completely covered with the stinging insects.

Billie, her sister, rushed to her side and began brushing yellow jackets off her red shirt by the hands full.

Billy still tells everybody, "I saved Sara’s life. If it hadn’t been for me, the bees would have covered her up and kept stinging her. She would have died. I guess that means she owes her life to me and I have to take care of her now."

Johnny Hundley, her brother-in-law, ran in and untied her silver gelding. The frightened horse was also covered with yellow jackets. Thinking quickly, Johnny ran leading the horse through a big, tall weed patch and the weeds brushed most of the bees off the horse.

"Sara, you have got to take this shirt off." Her sister insisted. Later Billie counted more than 80 stings on Sara. Billie said, "I had on a gray shirt and they never got on me at all."

Sara tells it, "You should have seen me jerking those clothes off. I had bees down in the sleeves of my shirt. They were everywhere. I didn’t care about anything except to stop getting stung."

Neither Sara nor her Little Silver had any lasting effects from all of those stings, but it made all of us determined to take special care and not do anything that might attract yellow jackets to us. This is serious stuff.

I went into the trailer this fall and took out all of the red shirts. I don’t use scented hair spray or perfume. But some way I forgot about our red club shirts and that is what I put out for me and my husband to wear that day on the ride through the Tennessee woods.

I have been on trail rides where the front riders would not get out of our way. They only stirred up the bees and we were standing in them. This gang knew what to do. None of this "don’t-move-and-they-won’t bother-you stuff." They tore out around that hill as fast as they could safely travel.

Sara’s disaster was uppermost in all of our minds when we first saw the dangerous bees.

"Anybody get stung?" the trail guide asked as we gathered up to assess the situation.

Several people admitted they had received a sting or two. One woman said, "I did get stung and I am allergic to them. I have been taking shots to try to develop an immunity, but I don’t know if it is effective yet."

"Do you have any medication with you?"

"Yes. I have a shot but I don’t know how to use it." the pretty blonde lady said.

We had just met that woman today, but you know how it is sometimes. We felt like she was a long time friend from the first.

The men stopped and sent the women to venture on down the trail for a rest stop.

"Does it effect you very much when you are stung?" someone asked her worriedly.

"Yes. I usually have to go to the hospital and I swell all over. I raised forward to brush off bees and when I sat back down, there was one on the saddle. It stung me on the hip." She admitted.

"I can give the shot to you." Sara Copley offered. "Do you feel like you are getting sick?"

"No."

Her concerned sister said, "Maybe you had better take that shot, just in case."

"I don’t want to, but I will." She agreed, taking the medication out. Sara admitted she had never seen a dose like that one. The thing came apart and the medication was lost, much to Sara’s dismay. She apologized profusely.

"Don’t worry about it. I really feel fine. I didn’t want to take it anyway. I didn’t know how to do it either because this kind of needle is something new they have come out with." She said to reassure us.

After the bathroom break we all mounted back up on the horses. Somebody called to tell the men we were ready and to come on down the trail.

Every few minutes the rider’s sister asked how she was doing. We rode another few minutes and a call came from the back.

"I have a yellow jacket in my pants and it has to come out." Sara informed us. "I felt it there and folded it up in my jeans and tried to hold on to it until we come to a good place to take it out, but it got away and it is stinging me."

"Take it out." I recommended. "You men ride a little way on up the trail. Don’t go too far but just don’t look back."

The rider jumped off and stood beside her horse.

Connie Hundley, Sara’s youngest sister, offered "Want me to get off and hold your horse?"

"No. He’ll be all right." Sara dropped her jeans and searched out the yellow jacket which had stung her about four times on the upper thigh.

"I got it." she said, proud of herself. Sara climbed back up on the gelding.

"Can we look now?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go." Sara advised.

"Go on. We’re all right now." Eddie yelled to the trail guide.

When we stopped for a break where Norman had sent the pickup truck filled with hot coffee, cold water, soft drinks and candy, we all checked our horses to see if there were any stings. Several horses had whelps on them. I could not find a place on Teege. I don’t see how she missed, but I guess she did.

The pretty lady with the allergy was doing fine and her immunity must have been working. Today she was all right. Her sister offered to lead her horse back and let her ride back in the truck, but she chose to stay with the ride.

Bees are not any worse there in middle Tennessee than they were at home in West Virginia. After all, it was fall and time for yellow jackets. 

We were lucky. There were no serious reactions and the entire bunch of riders acted as a group. It was a wonderful ride with old and new friends, spiced up with a little spot of excitement.

(I wrote this originally with the lady not being named, but she wrote me back and said, "Ah, go ahead and tell them it was me!")