Dear Otus,
We retired down here from Mankato, Minn., last fall and evidently missed Arkansas’ infamous tick and chigger season. Our neighbors say the cold winter will mean we get a break this spring from the onslaught. Will that be the case? My grandparents immigrated from Sweden in 1902 and picked Minnesota for its lack of ticks.
- Inga Fastingar, Bella Vista
Dear Inga,
It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you but, alas, there will be no respite.
But don’t take my word on it. I emailed Dr. Apu Nahasapeemapetilon, renowned hematologist and director of the University of Arkansas’ Donald J. Tyson Center for Vector-Borne Disease and Donald W. Reynolds Tick Encounter Resource Center in Fayetteville. He has studied the effects of climate on ticks for decades.
Nahasapeemapetilon noted, “On February 3 we put 42 adult female deer ticks in a hermetically sealed Erlenmeyer flask outside the center when the overnight temperature dropped to -19.444 degrees Celsius [-3 degrees Fahrenheit]. They died in 24 hours.”
But Nahasapeemapetilon pointed out that in nature, ticks and chiggers hunker down in their arachnidian condos under snow, leaves and other debris during winter. No matter how cold, it doesn’t appreciably reduce their numbers.
Not everybody hates the pests. In fact, for a textbook case of lemonade from lemons, we need look no further than Ben “Bubba” Edlund of Hot Springs. He was interviewed by my staff Wednesday via Skype.
Edlund is the third-generation owner/operator of the world-famous Arkansas Tick & Chigger Farm and Petting Zoo at 845 Whittington Ave. The farm has been catering to the curiosity surrounding the creepy critters since 1927.
Edlund was informed of Nahasapeemapetilon’s research and he agreed. The farm has had an abundance of ticks for almost 90 years, no matter what the weather.
“We got all kinds of ticks here,” Edlund said from behind the counter of his gift shop. “Some are as big as silver dollars [1.5 inches]!”
Edlund smiled as a nearby child dropped a large rubber squirting lone star tick ($9.95 with tax) and cowered behind his mother. “Better watch out, sonny,” Edlund growled, “or them ticks’ll suck your blood ’til you shrivel up like a nematode in the noonday sun.”
The boy burst screaming from the shop.
“Gets ’em every time,” he chuckled. “But he’ll be back in five minutes playing with the chigger set.”
The “chigger” set looks suspiciously like Hasbro’s Cootie game ($8.99).
Edlund has been pulling the same joke on a generation of children. Before that, his father and grandfather were scaring kids.
“My grandpappy Tootie bought this place in 1927,” Edlund says. “It had been a quartz mine and the property backed up to [West Mountain]. Tootie started out with just one big room full of ticks. We’ve expanded six times over the years.”
Edlund’s father, Ruel, added the chigger compound in 1956, a move that proved to be extremely popular with visitors from “up North.”
“Whenever there’s a festation, folks want to come in and see the insects up close,” he said. “They especially like to come at feeding time. There ain’t nothin’ like a tick feeding frenzy to make your blood run cold.”
Every Tuesday at 3 p.m. Edlund tosses a half dozen live chickens into his sunken tick pen and stands back. The total desiccation takes about two minutes as iPhones snap. Three years ago, Edlund added a Plexiglas fire ant enclosure to the ticks and chiggers compound. It has been quite a crowd-pleaser.
For concerned parents, Edlund points out that the petting zoo area is completely separate from his tick and chigger farm, and certifies that all the llamas, deer, pygmy goats, emus, ducks, geese and sheep are parasite-free.
Unfortunately, Edlund’s Educated Insects & I.Q. Critters, a Hot Springs landmark since 1952, burned in 1984 and has never been rebuilt.
“Customers don’t have the interest in watching ticks tap dance like they once did,” Edlund laments. “I blame it on the YouTube. You can see that stuff all over it every day.”
Still, an estimated 225,000 visitors traipse through his establishment each season. Every one leaves with a smile.
“That’s because on the way out we still have Tootie’s sign,” Edlund says. “The thing reads, ‘Y’all come back soon. We’re itchin’ to please. Satisfaction guaranteed or double your bugs back.”
“It’s a pun,” Edlund explains, pausing. “Bugs and bucks. Sort of sound alike, don’t they?”
For ticket prices, group rates and more information on Edlund’s ticks and chiggers and other Hot Springs attractions, go to hotsprings.org. Click on the “family fun” link.
Until next time, Kalaka reminds you that to be totally politically correct, one should call chiggers “Trombiculidae-Americans.”
Disclaimer Fayetteville-born Otus the Head Cat’s award-winning column of humorous fabrication appears every Saturday. Email: [email protected]
HomeStyle, Pages 34 on 03/22/2014