20060706 Batting A Thousand

Visitors often want to know of other national parks where I have worked. When they hear that I have worked in Everglades, the next question almost invariably will be “Are the mosquitoes worse here or in the Everglades?”

When we first arrived here in Brooks Camp in May we encountered plenty of mosquitoes. These were the Alaska mosquitoes I had been told about. They over-winter as adults under the snow pack and are giant-sized. These mosquitoes are slow moving and slow thinking. Like a lazy curveball you expect, they are easy to swat.

During June another mosquito species made its appearance. This one, more streamlined and quicker to bite, now teems in the willow and alder thickets. It can be a real pain on Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes guided walks as the group descends through such a thicket to the volcanic-ash-covered valley floor.

I remember during a chilly, breezy training day weeks ago Peter Hamel, my supervisor, showed the interpretive staff a few places in that thicket that would make fine interpretive stops. In particular he pointed out a sharp bend in the narrow trail. By wrapping a line of people around the bend, an interpreter could be seen by everyone and address the group without shouting. Yeah, right.

I have shouted along that trail, alright. “Don’t stop! If we continue moving briskly we shall be through this nightmare in about 20 minutes.” I look behind me to see folks swinging wildly to keep the bugs away from their faces.

But even these mosquitoes do not come close to what I have for years now considered to be the queen of the bloodsuckers. The black saltmarsh mosquito of The Everglades rates as the most aggressive biter of any mosquito around. Other mosquitoes may dance before your eyes and whine in your ears before making contact. Not the black saltmarsh mosquitoes. They swing at the first pitch, flying directly to any exposed skin to begin drilling. I have seen them persistently attack leather-palmed gloves, pumping up and down. Other mosquitoes are not even in the same league.

Today I faced a biting insect that plays an extreme game. No offense Chicago, but I am not a White Sox fan. This small black fly with six white sox plays a different kind of game. This thing takes divots. It anesthetizes the opponent then removes a chunk of flesh, leaving you bleeding. Later an itchy hard ball appears at the wound site and may persist for days.

White sox seek the protection of a hairline, whether it be scalp or beard or back of the neck. It will just as readily crawl up your sleeve or pantleg. My beloved headnet, my catcher’s mask protecting me from everything incoming, cannot stop the white sox. They crawl up my shirt and slip under the headnet to score. They field a team much larger than nine. In fact, there are thousands of them. I can’t win. I’d like to moiduh da bums.