As
wilderness paddlers, we often have to endure some degree of
hardship - headwinds, wet shoes, muddy portage trails,
snoring tent partners, less than perfect food.
But there is no problem that can match that of mosquitoes,
blackflies and other biting insects.
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A
buggy portage in late May with hordes of blackflies chomping at
our exposed wrists and ears is an exercise in profound misery
which can only be understood by those who have experienced it.
Perhaps our only consolation (however slight) is to think of how
lucky we are in comparison to those who have gone before us.
We enter the battle armed with bug jackets, screened tents, DEET
and other weapons. We can only imagine what it must have
been like for the voyageurs, sleeping wrapped in a blanket under
the canoe, with a piece of cheesecloth wrapped around their
heads.
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