I set out in the field at a rather fast clip because I didn't have much time and the bugs were bad...or so I thought. There was a steady flow of deer flies around my head - maybe 5 - 8 at the most. Not a huge deal. Totally manageable. When I felt like leaving them behind, I broke into a faster run, brought up the breeze, and they were gone. As soon as I stopped, they seemed to multiply, brought on by my activity and heavy breathing. I like running, and I do it almost everyday. Just not, you know, in jeans and heavy hiking boots.
Still, they weren't too bad.
On I went to the river.
Crossing was a bit of an issue, and I had to venture father upstream to find a narrow spot. I crossed at the top of the falls with my shoes tied around my neck and my socks stuffed in my pocket.
Once across the deer flies found me again, and this time they had brought all their friends. I was starting to get just a bit nervous about my situation.
I followed the dry creek bed up through the forest where the mosquitoes found me. OH FANTASTIC.
I broke into a run again, pausing every so often and snapping all the photos I could, knowing that this would be the last I saw of this place until the fall.
I stumbled up the the upper field, snapped a few shots, down to the creek bed, raccoon print, oh yay, more forest, bugs, deeper pool, bugs, rocks, this must have been pretty in spring, bugs, bugs, no more thinking, just running.
Mosquitoes and deer flies are swarming now. I'm back at the river ripping off my socks and shoes. Forcing myself to slow down and calmly cross so that I don't slip and smash up on the rocks. I felt like I was crossing blind. I was in a BUG RAGE.
At this point, there was no more time for pictures, the camera was to be used a weapon only.
I ran through the thick blackberry canes, the spines ripping at my sweat heavy jeans. I startled a white tailed deer. No time to admire. I kept running.
I came out of that field running as if Satan himself had risen from the depths and was chasing me across the sweeping grasses. I hit the road and briefly considered laying down.
I was absolutely dripping with sweat. Slick. Disgusting. Spent.
The jury is still out on whether this little adventure was worth the bug rage and copious amounts of cortisone I used when safely ensconced in my blissfully bug-free washroom. I don't suppose I'll be returning to the scene of the crime anytime soon, but I do look forward to a more leisurely stroll come late August.