It's a bug's world, we just hike in it

A long-planned backpacking trip to the Enchantment Lakes area last summer became less than enchanting when biting flies forced us to eat lunch on the run, lounge in a stifling tent and find mercy only by dunking in a freezing lake.

Call me a wimp, but I hated those nasty little creatures. I got nearly as much pleasure from smooshing them — one small victory for walking human feasts everywhere — as I did from the beautiful mountains surrounding our camp.

Sure, thousands — millions, even — remained to hound us, but at some point, it becomes personal. Entomologists might tell us the bloodsuckers are just trying to get food to reproduce, but we know the truth: They're after me.

"I've seen people at times throw their bodies on the trail and just whimper," sighs Gary Paull, wilderness and trail coordinator for Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. "They've just given up and are ready to be consumed by biting flies."

To be sure, larger, more threatening dangers lurk in the state's mountains and forests (well, maybe: "Yellow jackets are one of the scariest things in the wild, more than bears," said Paull, who has stepped in a nest and received dozens of simultaneous stings).

But even when all they cause is an itch, bugs rank right up with blisters for sheer minute-by-minute unpleasantness. The buzzing, swatting and scratching can dampen enthusiasm for even the most gorgeous views.

Bugs like summer, too

"I find alleviating bug hassle an art form," said avid backpacker Kim Brown, a Fremont resident. "Some people like to cook in the backcountry; I enjoy finding new ways to thwart the winged demons."

Mosquitoes start at lower elevations and follow the snowmelt up, Paull said. Joined by blackflies, yellow jackets and no-see-ums, the populations peak in July and August and don't drop much until the first frost. "They definitely all want to be out for Fourth of July and Labor Day," Paull said.

The same features that attract hikers — water, woods, wildflowers — also attract bugs.

On the return leg of a three-day backpacking trip to Chain and Doelle lakes, Brown and two friends hit a thick cloud of biting flies on the Wildhorse Trail. When Brown caught up with her friend Janet, she'd donned a rain jacket and pants "as a suit of armor against the hordes," recalled Brown, a member of the Washington Trails Association. Even so, her friend "was dancing in place and cussing up a storm.

"Off we went, racing like the wind to get off that trail," Brown said. "We sailed over footlogs like ballerinas, rock-hopped like we've never rock-hopped before. ... We were sweating like maniacs in that 90-degree heat; Janet fully encased in plastic, running in the heat of the day for about two miles. We risked heat exhaustion in order to get away from them."

Another of Brown's friends used the lid from his cooking pot as a flyswatter. "Over and over and over, that's pretty much all he did at camp," she recalls. "He'd sit there, and suddenly — whap! — he'd go after another one. We pointed out to him that killing one fly at a time was a little on the futile side, but he felt that if he murdered enough, the word would get out in the fly community, and they'd go away."

The recommended list of 10 essentials for hiking doesn't include bug repellent, but "it's one of the things I always pack," said Andrew Engelson, editor of Washington Trails magazine.

"Go anyway!"

Hikers can take one of two approaches: (1) Fight back, or (2) Adopt a zen outlook and find a positive side to the inevitable. How? Here are two ways:

Consider bugs a food source: "On any hike in bug season, at least one member of the trip will ingest a bug," notes Amy Mann, chairwoman of the hiking/backpacking committee for The Mountaineers' Tacoma branch. "When you least expect it, you will inhale a little extra protein."

OK, maybe that one's not so great. This is better: "Wildflower season is peak bug season," Paull said. "We wouldn't have as many pretty flowers if we didn't have the bugs to go with them."

Indeed, Brown insists the wildflower show at Green Mountain in the Glacier Peak Wilderness "is more beautiful than the flies are annoying.

"Go anyway!"

Stephanie Dunnewind: sdunnewind@seattletimes.com or 206-464-2091.