Day 231 - Highland Midge: Fruit fly with a grudge

As much as I try to exorcise myself of the demon that is skepticism, it has taken too deep a hold on me. It has become part of my cell structure and I can no easier rid myself of it than I could remove my lungs. This admission of insight is meant to be justification for what I am about to say next: No matter how drop dead gorgeous and seemingly perfect a place may seem, there is a price somewhere to be paid.

In Scotland, that price is the Highland midge, known in Scots as a midgie or, more appropriately,  Wee Bastard.

A midge is a mosquito-like bug that is about the 2 mm in size... about the size of a fruit fly. Only it is a fruit fly with a lot of attitude and a massive chip on it's six shoulders. Perhaps it's pissed that Mother Nature put it in a place where everything is so big -- big mountains, big sky, big lochs -- and yet left it so itsy bitsy that it had to find a way to defend itself. Oh, and find a way it did!

Source: Smidgeup.com

This tiny pest -- there, I've said it -- likes carbon dioxide. It hunts it out knowing there is probably a living, exhaling, blood-filled body at the other end. Once it finds you, it cuts a tiny scrap in your skin, then rolls its mouth into a straw shape that it sticks into your skin to suck out the blood, which it uses to lay its eggs. Yes, it's only the pregnant females that go to war, filled with pre-partum rage. Male midges don't have time to care; they sit back in the bog resting and telling tales about the most bacteria they ever ate when they were wee larvae and how many females they hooked up with yesterday ... and then they die a week later.

Once a female finds you, she sends a message to her other midge friends and soon you are swarmed. But don't worry, it would take about 100 million of them to drain you. That said, you could probably fit that many into a tea cup, so ...

Like mosquitoes, midges are more active at the stiller parts of the day: early morning and closer to sunset. Only problem is that in Scotland at this time of year, the sun is up at 4 am and goes down about 10:30, so the periods of sunrise and sunset are very, very long.

I've been reading up about how to combat Wee Bastards. Say, you have to be out somewhere in the middle of the Highlands; what do you do? Well, one thing is to cover up, of course. A good, fine net over the face is necessary. But my research uncovered an even more exciting solution: keep walking. Apparently, midges are notoriously crappy fliers (probably lose a bit of aerodynamics being pregnant and all), and so they can't keep up with your pace. A few steps and the full-bellied midge waves you off with an "If I run, I have to pee" look of resignation.

The midge forecast has become as popular as the weather forecast -- and probably as accurate. It currently states that Portree in Skye is at Midge Level 1. That relates to No flies on me. However, our friends across the way in Mallaig are at Midge Level 2: Mostly midge free. However, the forecast for Friday and Saturday is a 4: That's no mist, that's midges! So, we'll be staying in Friday night, enjoying the view from our windows ... and laughing as we open the window briefly, breath out, and then watch as they all try to find us.