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mrhoon
New member
Sorry to superdave for taking over his hornet thread.
This story takes place on the Oregon coast. I was in charge of installing a large brick patio at my mother in-laws beach house. The yard was huge and high maintainance. Especially since no one would visit for weeks at a time. The grass would grow out of control, and the moles left dirt piles all over the yard, which sometimes you wouldn't find until you ran into it with the mower. So we decided to pave the whole yard. No more moles, no more mowing. This was step 1.
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture031.jpg
After a few days of moving brick pavers,
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture043.jpg
We stayed out at the beach for over a month while we waited for our house in Portland to sell. We made some walkways around the house, and gravelled them, some steps, retaining wall, etc. When we were done with the landscaping for a week or so, a damn mole decided construction was over and time to move back in. Pushing up dirt piles again. When he tried to emerge under the walkways that we covered with landscape paper and gravel, it just left a soft spot, where you could turn an ancle easily. Little bastards. So my evening vigil begins. Most activity seemed to occur betweer 9 and 11 pm. So I would wait near one of his holes, pitchfork in hand, ready to strike. I learned at Orkin, if you clear the dirt away and clear the opening to his burrow, they will come and close the hole. They don't like fresh air. So I would open up his hole and wait. The problem was that there were so mant holes. I would only open 1, and wait. Then I would see activity elsewhere the next day. I was unable to stay outside the whole period of suspected activity, I just too freakin bored. So I'm stalkin this thing for a week. My wife and I go into town for some steaks, and when we get back there is a fresh mound near the garage. We were only gone like 20 minutes, and it was daylight. By this time I had constructed a new "implement of death" to aid in my battle. It was a few feet away. I cleared the hole, and walked carefully to get my "Molekiller", while walking back towards the burrow entrance, I see this creepy lookin little bastard poke its blind ugly rodent head out of the hole and sniff around a bit. I was so close. I lept into the air, and thrust my trusty weapon into the earth just behind where I saw the mole. Then, with suffocating anticipation, I remove my new weapon from the pile of dirt, and .....
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture056.jpg
...there was a dead fcking mole on the end of it!!!! I was victorious!!!!! I screamed with glee. My whole body tingled with excitement. I got the little bastard.
For thoser that are curious, that is a 20 pound hand held gravel tamper, with a 12inch square piece of pine, and 24 - 10 inch landscape spikes attached to it. "MoleKiller"
This story takes place on the Oregon coast. I was in charge of installing a large brick patio at my mother in-laws beach house. The yard was huge and high maintainance. Especially since no one would visit for weeks at a time. The grass would grow out of control, and the moles left dirt piles all over the yard, which sometimes you wouldn't find until you ran into it with the mower. So we decided to pave the whole yard. No more moles, no more mowing. This was step 1.
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture031.jpg
After a few days of moving brick pavers,
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture043.jpg
We stayed out at the beach for over a month while we waited for our house in Portland to sell. We made some walkways around the house, and gravelled them, some steps, retaining wall, etc. When we were done with the landscaping for a week or so, a damn mole decided construction was over and time to move back in. Pushing up dirt piles again. When he tried to emerge under the walkways that we covered with landscape paper and gravel, it just left a soft spot, where you could turn an ancle easily. Little bastards. So my evening vigil begins. Most activity seemed to occur betweer 9 and 11 pm. So I would wait near one of his holes, pitchfork in hand, ready to strike. I learned at Orkin, if you clear the dirt away and clear the opening to his burrow, they will come and close the hole. They don't like fresh air. So I would open up his hole and wait. The problem was that there were so mant holes. I would only open 1, and wait. Then I would see activity elsewhere the next day. I was unable to stay outside the whole period of suspected activity, I just too freakin bored. So I'm stalkin this thing for a week. My wife and I go into town for some steaks, and when we get back there is a fresh mound near the garage. We were only gone like 20 minutes, and it was daylight. By this time I had constructed a new "implement of death" to aid in my battle. It was a few feet away. I cleared the hole, and walked carefully to get my "Molekiller", while walking back towards the burrow entrance, I see this creepy lookin little bastard poke its blind ugly rodent head out of the hole and sniff around a bit. I was so close. I lept into the air, and thrust my trusty weapon into the earth just behind where I saw the mole. Then, with suffocating anticipation, I remove my new weapon from the pile of dirt, and .....
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b164/mrhoon/Picture056.jpg
...there was a dead fcking mole on the end of it!!!! I was victorious!!!!! I screamed with glee. My whole body tingled with excitement. I got the little bastard.
For thoser that are curious, that is a 20 pound hand held gravel tamper, with a 12inch square piece of pine, and 24 - 10 inch landscape spikes attached to it. "MoleKiller"
