.jpg)
To the untrained eye, they are simply trash cans, as one who now knows better, there his worm farms. There black, 30 gallons each, 10 of them, stuffed of worm bedding and every 70 days he says a new crop matures.
He does not grow nightcrawlers for any bait shops, he does have select regular customers, and if he’s not there, the barrel with the red can in front of it is the barrel he wants you to draw out your dozen or two you require, and then tuck your cash in the can.
If you open one that’s not quite ready the forensics might show celery tops, I think, a partial banana peel, how old I’ve no idea, several grapefruit rinds and all kinds of other stuff. Kitchen scraps that can no longer be identified, ya just can’t tell anymore whether that was an apple peel or tomato skin.
The barrels do not smell bad. You open a mature one and I only notice earthiness and you never extract any of that. That’s a no-no, nightcrawlers are fine, he says the magic in crawler production is what they crawl in. So, you bring your own bedding, or moss, or some dirt you dug out back that you’ll need for the day.
And one other little sidebar to his crawler operation is the sixfoot- tall, solar powered electric fence. It keeps the local raccoons, a marauding bear, skunks, what have you away, and you never forget to turn it off the second time you open the gate when he ain’t home.
- The Trout Whisperer
