THE BEEKEEPER
Seth Muller Rick
Seth caught the bee bug as a kid in New York, sharpened his craft in Vermont's clover meadows, and in 1987 followed the bloom all the way west to Humboldt County's fog-belt — where the trees are taller, the nectar runs wild, and he's now on his 40th season on the hive. A few boxes became Humboldt Gold: raw, unfiltered honey gathered from the Avenue of the Giants and poured into the glass bears travelers pull off the highway to find.
The bees have carried him farther than most frequent flyers — beekeeping congresses on five continents, including Apimondia, the world congress in Ukraine — and every trip ends the same way: the best ideas fly home to the coast. Ask him anything about bees when you visit. Go ahead, try to stump him. Forty years of travelers have tried — the man is un-bee-table.
Forty seasons in, he still opens every hive like it's his first. That's not a job — that's love, with a smoker and a veil. 🐝


