We had to arrange to cut down a large pine tree last month because at some time in the distant past it had been struck by lightning and it was beginning to turn hollow and suffer from dying branches. It was pretty close to the house so the arborist my (Master Gardener) wife hired said better safe than sorry. (I prefer the term “lumberjack” to “arborist” but I think I’m in the minority).
My wife had saved five large slices from the tree to make a patio table. They are about 2-3 foot high and 2-3 foot diameter cylinders. Some woodworker she tracked down said to put them up on blocks and let them season for six months, then coat with sealant. So I got some 1×4s and lined them up all six of them in a row near my mulch pile.
All was well until I was watering some plants last night and noticed one of my more high strung cats perched on the largest log with her tail puffed out. She was obviously upset about something. Maybe a snake hiding under the logs? Wouldn’t be the first time she’d found one.
But when I went over to check, I was perplexed. She was attracted and disturbed by a ticking sound. In fact, it sounded just like a large, loud grandfather’s clock. And it was coming from inside the lock. I checked under the log just in case, then put my ear right up against it, but the log was ticking.
I moved the cat off and said, “This isn’t natural.” And at this instant, as if cued by some celestial movie director, every single log in the row started ticking. Now it sounded like I was in grandfather clock shop. I dropped the cat and she was smart enough to run for the relative safety of the garage.
A few minutes of tapping, prodding, and head scratching confirmed that something was inside those logs and whatever it was, it was ticking.
Now I was a botany major in college, used to camp every weekend, and even once helped build a log cabin from scratch. But I’d never heard of such a thing. This was more like something from one of my H P Lovecraft favorites. And I very vaguely remembered something from the book and film, “Practical Magic” about a ticking beetle. In both cases, things ended badly for the people who heard ticking logs. (We all have our sources of paranoia. Most of the people I tell this story too immediately think “time bomb,” even though I’m pretty sure wind-up clock bombs were abandoned about 20 years ago).
Thank heavens for the Internet, or I’d probably have taken a page from Lovecraft and solved the problem with railroad flares and a gallon of gasoline (and probably been carried off to Pluto by some fungi from Yoggoth or something).
After experimenting with various search words (ticking log is apparently an IT technical term) I tried “ticking log pine grub” and discovered the “Old House Borer.” They are inch long horned beetles that infest pine trees, live inside for up to five year, and eventually become two inch long grubs. At this point, they scrape their way out to form a .22 caliber-sized air hole, fill the hole with a mixture of sawdust and beetle poop, and then pupate. They can be really annoying if you use an infested log in a house or cabin, since the ticking can go on for weeks or months. In legend, if you hear the ticking from inside your walls, you are doomed and will surely die once the ticking stops (more or less what happened in “Practical Magic.”)
I have too much imagination. In some parallel universe were we hadn’t cut down the tree, something like this would have happened — At the height of the next hurricane, I’d wait until we were in the eye of the storm and step outside to assess the damage. All would be well except there would be a strange ticking from the big pine tree by the house. There wouldn’t be time to investigate much, and when the eye wall moved on, the winds would pick up and the tree would topple onto the house, crushing the roof like a Rice Krispies box and pinning me in the rubble. Worse, there would be movement from the shattered pine and soon dozens, perhaps hundreds of two inch long Old House Borers would swarm out. They wouldn’t be happy… No time to reach the railroad flares.
Well, that problem wouldn’t ever happen, but the story isn’t over yet. Old House Borers are hard to eradicate, but (again according to the Internet) borax-based solutions may help. We’ll see. I immediately thought “boron-based roach dust” and my wife immediately thought “Twenty Mule Team Borax.” I vividly remembered Ronald Reagan and “Death Valley Days” but I wasn’t even sure they still sell the stuff.
It turns out they do, and my plan was to make a slurry, paint down the log, and seal it up in a 55 gallon garbage bag for a week. I figure at least the log will be squeaky clean after that. Then the whole thing gets rinsed down and bagged for disposal.
Maybe not though. I told fellow STIX author Anna Crull my plans. She is not only a chemist, but as it turns out also has direct first hand experience with pine beetles of various kinds. Anna is one of the most green, tree huggingist, and most environmentally aware people I’ve ever know. But she has a streak of practicality that will probably send some folks whimpering and running for the comfort of their dog-eared copy of “Silent Spring.”
“That may be one of the bizarre and interesting tales I have read in a long, long time,” Anna began. Thens she told me about decades of dealing with boring insects, starting back with her father’s tree stands in Mississippi. “Raised in the Deep South we always had a “stand” of yellow pine trees somewhere in south Mississippi. Daddy sold some timber ever year and someone stole timber every year. However, I eventually learned more about pine beetles than anyone except the forest service needs to know. There are dozens of different kinds of pine beetles and they can spread to other trees. EPA took most of the ‘good stuff’ off the market but you still may be able to find some Sevin. If so buy all you can and spray your logs and any other pine trees.”
She also added, “Daddy was fond of a product called ‘Bedbug Killer.’ Apparently was effective pine tree treatment (I thought it just sounded yucky). Permethrins (pyrethrins) also help but generally not toxic enough but that can be considered an advantage. Borax won’t help too much except to get rid of roaches. I’m a chemist and therefore recommend strong chemicals for only one reason–that’s all that is effective. Trouble with beetles, ticking or not, is that they spread to other trees and even to wood fences that are suppose to be ‘treated.’ My father finally sold the pine forest so he didn’t have to worry about the theft. Same guys that did the thinning and cutting were probably the same ones stealing trees. Anyhow that’s who daddy sold the forest to.”
So the problem is bigger than a picnic table. Now I need to make sure the Old House Borers don’t spread to any of the other hundreds of pines in the immediate vicinity. A couple web pages seemed to swear by a Borax rub, but if those logs are still ticking next week, I’ll move up the food chain to whatever they will let me buy. According to the EPA, Bayer Crop Div. is selling Sevin. Probably Home Depot has a hidden supply. Around here, Tractor Supply sells all sorts of toxics for the ‘ranch.’ Anna says she’s been amazed at the stuff you can buy at Tractor Supply. Probably no EPA or OSHA inspector has visited Tractor Supply in 30 years. And as an ex-chemist myself, I have the gloves, disposable suit, face masks, and 55 gallon bags to pull it off. Polycyclic hydrocarbons should degrade a long time before those bags begin to leak into the landfill.
On the other hand, since the bugs are inside the wood (for now anyway) I’m not sure how anything I use can penetrate to where it can do the most good. Apparently Sevin will do the trick. I’m not going to try the Permethrins — at least not on a picnic table for heavens sake.
Sounds like this story may end as horribly as I was predicting, albeit without me pinned down by swarms of hurricane-spawned bugs. At first I’ll pretend the problem will go away on its own — for a few days. Then I’ll wake up late Saturday night and be out in the moonlit yard listening to all the remaining pine trees with a stethoscope.

Old House Borer

Lovecraftian Elder Thing