Journeying into the backcountry of the Adirondacks during the height of bug season may seem like pure insanity but I did so the third weekend in May to participate in the Audubon Society’s Birdathon (a trip report to appear here soon). And it was certainly no surprise to find hordes of hungry black flies waiting there for those few intrepid (and deranged) individuals who simply could not wait until later in the season.
Although the black flies appeared somewhat subdued on Friday evening and Saturday morning the situation swiftly and painfully changed after some brief thunderstorms on Saturday afternoon. The light winds did not help matters either. Without some swift gusts to carry the pesky little demons away there was an almost constant dusky cloud behind me just waiting for the opportunity to get a free meal at my expense.
Whether I just happened to be in the area during the actual moment when they started to feast on blood or the weather conditions became optimum for them to initiate an attack remains unclear. But the scares on my hands and face when I returned to civilization are proof of their ferocity and hunger. Neither repellant nor physical barrier (e.g. head net) was enough of a defense to keep them at bay for long as wave after wave of them continued their assault on my person until they obtained their hearts desire: my blood.
Not only did the black flies make me a meal but they had the audacity to ruin my own meals as well. After a lengthy Saturday of bushwhacking/birding I settled down for a dinner of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This much delayed meal (it was originally planned for lunch) was greatly needed after a 12-hour marathon of bushwhacking through the Pepperbox Wilderness during the day of the actual Birdathon event.
I smeared a creamy packet of Justin’s Organic Classic Peanut Butter on my Arnold Sandwich Thins whole wheat bread; my mouth watering despite being ensconced within a head net. When I turned away to obtain my delicious MRE blackberry jam
I gave the little dark devils an opportunity to wreck my much needed dinner. As I returned my attention to the peanut buttered bread I found at least 3-4 of the little buggers were stuck in the peanut butter.
I could not believe they had done such a thing. It was bad enough that they chewed through my flesh to drink my blood but did they have to try and eat my food as well. I looked at the bread with my peanut butter smeared on top trying to decide what to do; the little flies’ legs were madly wiggling as they struggled to free themselves from the clutches of my tasty peanut butter.
Should I throw it away? Not going to happen. I was way too hungry to start over plus I had only a portion of a pack left.
Flick them out with my fingers? With the head net on there was no way I would be able to lick off the peanut butter without getting it all over my head net, my clothes or myself. Plus the zing of the insect repellent residue on my fingers would have been an unwelcome additional taste.
What to do?
Finally, without mercy, I slopped the blackberry jam right on top of the black flies and the peanut butter. Without giving myself an opportunity to think about the wisdom of my actions I pulled off my headnet and consumed the peanut butter and jam sandwich as fast as I could.
Since my head was now unprotected I paced as I ate the defiled sandwich. The horde of malicious black flies around me seemed to grow in both size and ferocity with every delicious bite I took of it.
The growing numbers of black flies may have been a response to my staying in the same location for too long. Or, maybe it was the setting sun that fed their desperation for a last meal before bedtime. Or, perhaps they came in defense of their fallen comrades that I was eagerly consuming.
Then again maybe they just smelled my delicious peanut butter.
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