Bugs That Bug Me
Originally Published on Aug 16, 2011 “From the Docks” NBC Sports
While the trip happened nearly 3 decades ago, I can still remember certain details like they happened 10 minutes ago. For example, I remember the black bear staring at me from the v of a white birch tree as I fried bacon over an open campfire one morning. He left after I tossed a few rocks in his direction.
I also remember the relentless bugs that bug me. The mosquitoes, which didn’t bother us when the sun was out, but attacked ferociously as soon it began to dip behind the horizon. One night we fished way past dark, then stopped just short of camp when the hum of insects became so loud we could hear then clearly over the running outboard. And when we finally did go ashore, it was nothing more than a mad dash to get inside the tent with the door closed before blood loss lead to our demise.
But truth be told, I would take harassment from a mosquito any day over that of a black fly. The mean little bas…not only attacks as an army, they have the gall to seek out your most sensitive areas before settling down to eat. Who cares if you have a long-sleeve shirt on…they start at your wrist, walk up your forearm, past your bicep and then drill into your armpit. And then you are left with a welt that lasts a week, and situated near 10 others that are just as annoying.
Now, whenever I head into blackfly country I bring gloves, tape for closing all openings in my clothing (and the back of baseball hat), a head net and bug dope so full of Deet the plastic container it is in begins to breakdown.
And even with these precautions I know I am still going to go home looking like I have chicken pox!
—Steve
