It's enough to give a guy hives.

Byline: Serena Markstrom The Register-Guard

COBURG - Imagine the 24 inches between two beams in the framing of an old house. Fill that space with honeycomb. Now, imagine thousands of bees sleeping inside, thinking they have found themselves a brilliant condo.

For years, the honeybees at the Coburg Westpoint Grange have co-existed peacefully with Grange members. Just about everyone in town knew that the historic white building was home to more than its share of bees.

"We used to joke about it," Joe Morneau, the Grange master, said about local folks' propensity to finger every bee as a "Grange bee." `Unless they have a `GB' on their wings, then you can't prove they're from the Grange.'

And, just like an innocent keg party that got out of hand, too many bees showed up and someone had to break up their fun. Last year, there was a swarm so big the Grange had to evacuate the building.

In the past, members have made cursory efforts to get rid of the bees, but no one knew the magnitude of the invasion, said Terri Morneau, Joe's wife. "We knew we had bees, but we didn't realize we had a whole state," she said.

Grange leaders already had planned to remodel, including opening up the walls. What no one expected was two enormous hives - one of which was about the size of two couch cushions - oozing with honey and filled with live and dead bees.

Given the shortage of bees and the rising cost of bee products, the Morneaus thought it would be easy to find someone to take the bees away. But because the hives were on the second floor, they had to call six beekeepers before they were referred to John Ulbricht of Cottage Grove.

"This is one of the biggest hives I've ever seen," Ulbricht said. "It must have been a large swarm for them to build this much this fast."

Ulbricht said the average honeybee hive hosts 40,000 to 100,000 bees.

"This one," he said, motioning to the largest hive that he had yet to extract from the wall, "this one is above average."

Joe Morneau picked up a handful of dead bees. "It's just ... it's crazy," he said, estimating that 100,000 to 200,000 dead bees were in the room.

The bees have caused a stir in the quiet town of Coburg, where curious onlookers have come by, often scratching as they left, Terri Morneau said.

Joe and Terri both said they are allergic to bees, but because there's only a rare buzz in the air, they are confident they won't get stung.

Besides, as Ulbricht pointed out, "Honeybees are reluctant to sting because they can only sting once and then they die." A fact, Ulbricht said, that the bees are aware of.

Ulbricht will take the live bees home, melt down the wax from the hive and save the honey. For about $100, the Grange will be rid of their winged "members."

Still, they face quite a clean-up, with old, brittle honeycomb and bee bodies glued to the floor with honey. They've filled a Shop Vac with dead ones.

Once the bees are gone, Grange members will treat the wood with Fischer's Bee-Quick, an almond-scented spray that deters bees.

Then they will plug holes with caulking, throw dry powder cement on the walls to absorb moisture, apply insulation, then replace wall boards.

Meanwhile, Ulbricht has been dispensing free bee facts during his work at the Grange.

"We've learned a lot," said Joey Morneau, 19, Joe's son. "More than we could have learned on the Discovery Channel."

CAPTION(S):

Joe Morneau, master of Coburg Grange No. 535, samples honey from a giant hole in the building filled with bees.