The Solas family went camping this weekend up in the near north: St. Croix State Park, a delightful and huge state park following the St. Croix river as it traces the border between Minnesota and Wisconsin.  I say "delightful" here in the slightly hypothetical, for while in retrospect and from the safety of our truly delightful deck the trip was a success, the park itself over this weekend can be summed up in three words: Full.  Of.  Bugs.

We arrived about 8:30 Friday, ate and played some games, then hit the sack about 10:30, both tired from long weeks.  This was Bruno’s first time in a tent, and we were anxious to see how he would do.  No fool, our dog, he would wait for either of us to sit up to adjust the lantern or grab a book and then quickly lay on the most comfy part of our sleeping bags!  Having none of this we tried a few arrangements for his bed and finally settled between our feet, where he was content to alternate between leaning his full weight against one of us or just resting his head and chest on our feet.  The rain I expected never came, and it was 6:30 (doggie breakfast time) before we knew it.

Anticipating bad weather, we got up and ate and decided we should go hit the trails – there was a CCC-built camp a few miles away that looked interesting, and the trail followed the river.  Perfect.

Almost as soon as we got out of our campsite, the mosquitoes began their attack.  We made it to the camp, and I kept telling myself it would get better soon.  We pressed on a bit, thinking we’d come to a lake we saw on the map — surely, it will get better soon.  There’s a breeze, the sun is out, they have to stop swarming sometime, right??

No.  The answer is no.  I’ll spare you the details of my freakout, but as long as there is sweet human (and doggie) flesh anywhere in range, the mosquitoes of St. Croix will rally to the feast.  I don’t know if I’m more sensitive to their bite (I used to get quarter-sized welts that lasted for days, and it’s still pretty bad), or just taste sweeter, but it was Out.  Of.  Control.

Perhaps most troubling was the fact that everywhere around us there were happy campers wearing only shorts and T-shirts, sitting around their camp sites with no visible protection.  (This pic of K is in the one hour on Saturday where they calmed down enough we could take one more walk)  How could they survive the onslaught?  Were they hardy midwesterners used to the bugs?  Were they simply tougher, or less tasty?  Why could we not poke our heads our of our sanctuary without being swarmed by the bloodthirsty hordes?  I think the answer is deet, which we were slightly reluctant to slather on ourselves, but saw no such hesitance in our fellow campers.  Not complete fools, we did use some bug spray, but it seems that without a visible sheen it’s just not enough to ward them off.

There were a few highlights: the screen tent we got from my grandparents (a.k.a. the Sanctuary), the "Pudgy Pie" maker we got from them, and the sweet marshmallow roasting sticks from Karen’s parents (up at the top of the post).  The pie maker produced the most amazing ham and cheese sandwich, tuna melt, and finally a bacon, tomato and cheese delight.  Yum.  Karen discovered her all-time favorite S’more combo: ginger snap cookie, marshmallow, and mint chocolate.  Whoa.

We also stopped by Taylor’s falls on the way home, a pretty amazing geological site along the river.  K had been out there before, but it was my first time – very cool.  And hey, no bugs!

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