Icemannwt's profileOl' Sam. A Work in Progr...PhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
|
July 04 Blackflies and Mosquitoes.Reading a discussion board this morning,
I noticed a couple of entries mentioning biting bugs in the North. Below for your entertainment, is a response I posted.
Jordan, you didn't mention that bull-dogs (moose/horse/deer flies) actually take a chunk of flesh outa ya. The mosquitoes can get bad enough to stampede a herd of caribou. In fact they constantly do.............
If you park on the causeway at the river at Ft Providence to wait for the ferry, the downwind side of your vehicle will literally be black with Blackflies while the upwind side will be clean as a baby's whistle. Mosquitoes bites, one can get used to, almost. Blackflies are the scourge of the north. Blackflies breed, hatch and hang around running water, definitely. In Yellowknife, just when one thought it safe, bugless, I've seen blackflies re-emerge after the first snow of fall, melts. Fortunately, I'm allergic to blackfly, mosquito and other biting/stinging insect bites & stings, so I always end up with beautiful itches, lumps and swellings. Blackfly bites are the worst for me, I get golf ball size lumps. Even up to a month later, old bites will flare up and itch like a bastard all over again, certainly. "Deep Woods Off" applied /sprayed directly to the face and exposed skin is a miracle. Pre-contact, how the natives lived without bug protection chemicals is a wonderment. The early explorers, Hudson's Bay Co. men etc., deserved medals for bravery by just continuing into bug infested lands. The best they had was stuff called citronella or kerosene... neither very affective. Head nets are a true inconvenience, specially for a smoker. Outdoors, exposing ones nether regions for any purpose, but mainly to perform the bodily functions of waste elimination, procreation etc. etc., can scar ones psyche and other soft bits for life. "Deep Woods Off" burns exposed mucus membranes. It's a rock and a hard place, I tell ya. Goodness gracious, Gerry Lee Lewis was absolutely correct!  The bug repelling qualities of a campfire/smoke myth, is exactly that, a myth. People believe it, want to believe it and light fires in the forlorne hope that it's true, it'll keep the bugs away. Biting bugs are actually attracted by campfires, cigarettes, pipes and joints, obviously. Lots of people (giant blood bags) stand/sit around campfires, flapping their arms, coughing, waiting to get bitten, eyes watering. Campfires emit a localized plume of movement, carbon dioxide and infra red, all three cues, biting blood sucking insects, use to home in on their intended prey, a fact. 1963. One breezy evening after work in Taloyoak (Spence Bay) NU. I decided to walk out to Middle Lake to do a little trout fishing. I'd walked for about an hour and was approaching the lake when the wind dropped to nothing, instantly, with every step I took, a cloud of mosquitoes rose from the low scrub of the tundra and headed for my face. Oh the humanity! I'd forgotten to bring or prespray myself with bug dope.
I had a ball cap on my head, but no hood on my jacket. Immediately my head, face and neck were surrounded by a biting, buzzing cloud of blood thirsty insects, naturally. Within 5 minutes they had me running crazily across the barren lands yelling, waving my hands and arms and dodging my own fish hook which seemed to mirror my hand and arm movements and seemed determined to rip off my hat, catch in my clothing or lodge in my eye, short term insanity began to rear it's ugly head.
But wait, what's that? I smell smoke. Smoke means people in the vicinity. Two million square miles of emptiness and I'd found someone. Undoubtedly, they would have bug dope! Three of the local Inuit boys were also out fishing that night and had stopped to light a fire and brew some tea. "Hello Agliqti, want some tea?', they asked as I charged up to them. "OK, but do you have any "Off", I forgot mine." "No, we forgot ours too." was the laughing response. With only their faces exposed they were wearing the hooded outer, Grenfell cloth, covers from their winter parkas and gloves for protection. I was almost at the point of berserk.
From somewhere, someone produced a bit of extra cloth, handy. There was just enough of it to fashion a basic head covering, enough to cover my neck and ears leaving only a small piece of my face exposed. My hands were naked, one hand carried my fishing rod, in the other I carried a .22 rifle, ducks dontchano?
Forget fishing, hands in my armpits I sat around the smudge in the bugs with the boys for a little while drinking tea, then headed back to the settlement. My only itch relief on the way home was to stop at a puddle or small lake occasionally and plunge my hands into near freezing water By the time I got home that night my swollen hands and face were on fire and covered in mud, and blood from squashed mosquitoes. My hands itched for a week after.
For the next 26 years, I never again forgot my bug dope when venturing out in the 'bush'. I've always been surprised by how quickly I succumbed to virtual craziness and running that night.
 |
|
|
