Don’t Get Bitten by the Bug

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COVID-19 isn’t the only nasty bug to try like hell to avoid. It has turned out to be a baaaad tick season this year. I’ve found way too many of these vile critters crawling on me after hiking these past few weeks. Particularly hateful are seed (larval) ticks, most of which are no bigger than a poppy seed (and I've found some even smaller). Unlike the bites from most adult ticks, these tend to sting and itch maddeningly very shortly after the little fucker has latched onto you. While I hesitate to classify this as a good thing, the distinctive pain is about the only way you’ll ever know the hellish bastard has gotten you. The ticks themselves can literally be too small to see unless you know the precise area of your anatomy to examine.

Lyme Disease, Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and Alpha-gal Syndrome (which causes a severe allergic reaction to red meat, transmitted by the Lone Star Tick, easily recognizable by the single white spot on its back) are among the most serious tick-borne diseases, and I have numerous friends who have suffered one or more of these. Fortunately, this season, I have detected and destroyed every tick that has discovered me — at least, to my knowledge! — before it has managed to dig in for the long haul. With so many more people now out on trails and in the woods, the pandemic is but one of the risks out there, and socially distancing one’s self from ticks tends to be difficult.

While most ticks laugh at DEET, I have found that spraying my entire body before getting dressed and then spraying down my clothes has dissuaded the vermin from catching a ride and using me as a restaurant car. If you value your health, these little nasties are not to be trifled with. When you're in their environment, take the necessary precautions. (And when you're in my environment, wear a fucking mask.)

Grazie mille.