August 8, 2013
Me vs. Mosquitoes
Nelson Reservoir Campground
An hour into today's ride, I encountered an organized bike tour of some kind coming from the opposite direction. A Montana version of RAGBRAI perhaps? Except, instead of 10,000 riders there were, at most, 60 riders. Another indicator that it was no RAGBRAI is that none of them appeared to have been drinking alcohol so far this morning. Most of the cyclists seemed to be bunched into groups of three or four and I enjoyed exchanging greetings with each group. If my voice had been recorded during those 20 minutes, it would sound something like this:
"Good morning . . . good morning . . . good morning . . . hello . . . good morning . . . good morning . . . hi . . . good morning . . . greetings . . . good morning . . . good morning . . . have a fun ride . . . good morning . . . good morning . . . good morning . . . great day for a bike ride, isn't it? . . . good morning . . . etc."
There were 15 m.p.h. headwinds all day again, and more of the same is predicted for the rest of the week. The morning was cloudy and cool with a few spurts of rain. It felt good. I had been dealing with intense sunlight pretty much all day, every day, for most of my trip so far.
In the afternoon, the clouds passed to the west and the sun was back in full force. Normally I love the sun, but my lips are blistering in a hideous and painful way. That, to put it succinctly, sucks. I've been singing the Velvet Underground song Who Loves The Sun in my best Lou Reed voice, only I changed the words to suit my current situation.
"Who loves the sun? / Who cares that it makes plants grow? / Who cares what it does since it burnt my lips? / Who loves the sun? / Not everyone."
I made a library stop in Malta. Then, while searching for a grocery store, I found that I liked Malta almost as much as I disliked Harlem. There was a cool motel that looked as if it was lifted from historic Route 66 and placed on lowly Route 2 as some form of punishment for being TOO cool. I was tempted to stay there, but I had already set a goal to reach a B.L.M. campground on the Nelson Reservoir and, by god, I was determined to get there.
It was 17 additional miles--including a mile of gravel--to get there, but I made it. I came to a stop at a nice campsite right on the lake and then, within seconds, there were hundreds of mosquitoes all over my body. I was astounded, but then I remembered an employee at the grocery store in Malta who asked about my trip and then asked if I was carrying enough mosquito repellent. At the time I thought it was a rather odd question. Now that I was in the middle of an all-out attack, I understood.
I suffered a few bites before I could dig out my vial of 100% DEET, but once I found it, my secret weapon sent the swarm packing. Previously, the worst mosquito infestation I had ever encountered was during a backpacking trip at Isle Royale National Park but, as hard to believe as it may be, this was worse. Montana mosquitoes, however, are noticeably smaller than the monsters of northern Minnesota, Michigan and Wisconsin, but just as aggressive.
Once I took care of the mosquito problem, I was extremely pleased with my site. There are a few trees along the lake shore. On the other side of the lake are barren, but pretty, rolling hills. Patrolling the lake are seagulls and pelicans.
Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 992 miles (1,596 km)
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