After swatting what seemed like the hundredth mosquito to land on my legs in five minutes, I was ready to give up on the sunny day and head for the shelter of indoors.
But the cruel caveat to enjoying our better-than-average summer weather thus far, all things considered, is worth every red, itchy welt.
Turns out a warm spring, followed by a warm, dry June leads to a healthy population of our friend the mosquito, according to the Geophysical Institute and Richard Nelson, whose naturalist radio program "Encounters" focused on Alaska's most populated -- but least popular -- insect earlier this week.
Back at some friends' house a few days after listening to Nelson's program, we sat around a bonfire eating barbecue ribs and coleslaw, swatting mosquitoes with our hand-held bug zappers. We wondered how such lovely conditions could lead to the vicious swarms that now followed us. Is that just not a cruel twist of fate, to be plagued by these incessant skin-munchers when we finally -- finally! -- have some sunny days?
In my experience, mosquitoes thrive where it is wet and lush, the perfect breeding ground for new eggs to be laid and hatched. Hiking through damp woods, walking along riverbanks, camping amid the spruce trees -- these are the places and conditions under which we expect to do battle with mosquitoes.
Instead, here we were in a perfectly open grassy backyard, faced with the mother lode of mosquito crops.
Still, it is a small yet painful price to pay. Given last year's summer, with its wet, cold days that drove even the hardiest outdoorsman in from the elements, these mosquitoes are nothing more than a minor nuisance. I try to think of their positive attributes -- and at this, I must strain my brain considerably -- but there are a few. They are pollinators, actually getting the bulk of their nutrition from nectar, so they keep our gardens and plants healthy. And they are part of the food chain, targeted by birds, dragonflies, fish and even bats. If you look carefully, you'll notice this summer there are dragonflies everywhere. Why? My guess is that there are plenty of mosquitoes around upon which they can feast.
Of the 25-plus mosquito species in Alaska, there are slight variations; some hatch earlier in the summer, others come out well into August. They vary in size, density and feeding habits, but when one lands on a sensitive spot on your neck or buzzes into your ear just as you're drifting off to sleep, it doesn't matter: They're all simply maddening.
This "take the good with the bad" reality is so typical of Alaska. We have these gorgeous mountains but only a fraction of them are accessible to the average hiker. Our unending daylight seems ideal for growing but can produce freakishly large or out-of-control plants if not monitored obsessively. Our rivers are so inviting, yet take a spill and the cold can suck the life out of you in minutes.
Still, we love it here. It's that dichotomy of being -- that always-on-the-edge feeling -- that makes life here so interesting. The challenge of surviving here is part of the thrill, even in the dead of winter when we're ready to chuck it all and move to Hawaii.
So it goes with the mosquito. For us, it's just another stumbling block to enjoying the view, catching the fish or hiking the trail. It may slow us down and be maddeningly aggravating, but it's just a bug after all.
And who's going to let a little insect get in their way?
Outdoors freelance writer Melissa DeVaughn and her blog "Deadlines and Stopwatches'' can be reached at www.melissadevaughn.com
Melissa DeVaughn
comment