Traverse City Record-Eagle

Marta Hepler Drahos

MORE ON CATERPILLAR INFESTATION

• Crawlers creep in; Expert advises patience

• Ag Forum: Management of the tent caterpillar

Related Photos

  • Marta Hepler Drahos

    CSS78D8.jpg
May 24, 2010

Marta Hepler Drahos: Caterpillar minefield

By MARTA HEPLER DRAHOS mdrahos@record-eagle.com

When we bought 10 forested acres surrounded by hundreds more, I was thrilled to be living with nature.

That was before I made the connection between forest and forest tent caterpillars.

Even when I saw the silk in the trees along the road to our house, I wasn't alarmed. Until recently, that is.

Now the trees are encased in giant, wispy webs. Caterpillars swinging from long strands slap at the windshield when I pass. The dirt is littered with small, dark shapes.

The morning walk to the garage is a minefield of crawling, squirming bodies. I tiptoe gingerly between them but can't take a step without crushing one. Reaching the garage at last, I punch in the access code and jiggle in place, trying not to look around. As the door rises, dozens of caterpillars drop onto the concrete pad to be squashed by the car's tires. I grit my teeth and back out.

Arriving home, I scan the yard and buildings. I'm incredulous to see that in the hours I was away, the infestation has reached epidemic proportions. Now the caterpillars are a dense, writhing mass at the foundation of my mother's apartment like something out of a horror flick. Hundreds more are spreading on the white siding above, dripping from the porches and posts and railings.

It's so impressive that my husband snaps some photos to e-mail to my sister. She immediately calls to say she's canceling her reservation in June.

Just for fun, I e-mail the best to some co-workers, with "Pure Leelanau" in the subject line. One posts it on my Facebook wall with the message, "Kinda hoping you look at this some morning before breakfast, as I did … Another lays a trap for friends passing her desk: "Look what I got to open this morning as I was enjoying my coffee and a banana ..."

We're virtual prisoners in our house, dashing out only to go to work or to get the paper and the mail. Back home, I kick off my shoes as soon as I cross the threshold, rush into the shower to wash off the itch that's come over me. From the screen door I can hear the caterpillars drip from the trees like rain — ping, ping — onto the leaves below.

Even my husband, who has looked forward to spring all winter so that he finally can side the garage we started last fall, has been driven inside — defeated by the relentless march of caterpillars across the house wrap.

All around the neighborhood the drone of engines can be heard as neighbors declare warfare with power washers and shop vacs. For the first time in weeks, the birds are conspicuously absent from the feeders. I hope this means they're eating something small and furry, and feel a stab of compassion.

Until, on my way to work, I lift my mug for a sip of coffee and discover a caterpillar on the lid.

Reach staff writer Marta Hepler Drahos at mdrahos@record-eagle.com.

Text Only