Journeys

Those Pesky Mosquitoes

It’s a bird, it’s a plane? Uh-oh, it’s an Alaska-Yukon mosquito (they can migrate, you know!) Just as we Northerners are gleefully shucking off the bulky parkas to warm our winter white skin by the light of the Midnight Sun, they arrive. In droves.

Unlike a vampire who only feeds under the cover of darkness (and mostly in Transylvania), the relentless mosquito is happy to suck your blood day or night, and all times in between.

They appear to be as large as a swallow and produce a whine similar to a landing jet, yet these tiny villains are small enough to sneak through a microscopic hole (the one you didn’t notice in your tent’s mesh) in a heartbeat. At just under 2.5 milligrams and approximately 2 centimeters in length, this seemingly innocuous insect can pack enough of a punch to make a grown man cry.

Their very design is diabolical. A slender body with long, feather-light legs enables a soft, almost imperceptible landing while its needle-sharp nose slips furtively into your skin to drain as much blood as possible before getting whacked. But it isn’t really a nose, but a six piece tongue. And the mosquito’s proboscis doesn’t penetrate the skin. Rather, the snout-like tube actually sheathes six tiny, needle-like stylets that do the piercing. Four of the stylets tear the capillaries, another injects saliva to stop the blood from coagulating, while the sixth pumps blood back to her body. The weld that appears after the mosquito departs is not a reaction to the wound, but an allergic reaction to the mosquito’s saliva. And just in case your blood isn’t spilling fast enough, this model of insect comes complete with fuel injected anti-coagulants so you flow like the Yukon River straight into its gut.

They’re attracted to your perspiration, but even more so to deodorant, soap, creams and cosmetics. If you must wear sunscreen make sure it is one with bug repellent in it or you’re an instant magnet. Your best bet is not to smell at all.

They find you by sight (movement), detecting infrared radiation (warm bodies), and by chemicals emitted when you breathe (carbon dioxide, for starters). In other words, if you’re living and breathing, they’re going to find you! A mosquito can boogie along at a mile and a half per hour and some species travel up to one hundred miles.

So what can you do to keep your blood safely flowing through your own veins and not into the greedy gut of a voracious mosquito? You can try the usual remedies: oil of citronella (which doesn’t work), bug spray, insect zappers, and hand-held foggers. But they’re really no match for a female intent on laying a batch of eggs. If you must be outside, swallow your pride and wear a bug jacket. They may look goofy but there’s a certain satisfaction in a mass of hungry, buzzing mosquitoes bumping into your protective mesh, unable to tear into your tender flesh. Otherwise lather yourself up in Deet!

One has to wonder what possible purpose can these malicious, flesh-feeding parasites serve on God’s green Earth? Well, they are part of the food source of baby birds hatching in the early summer. And we all like birds, right? Fish also dine on the lowly mosquito, although in the north most mosquitoes breed in shallow pools of melting ice and snow, which don’t have fish. Otherwise our hopes are pinned on other creatures such as tadpoles, damsel fly nymphs and dragon fly larva, and a whole host of other aquatic insects.

But lest we malign the entire mosquito population, let’s be fair. The male mosquito is really of no consequence to people. He is content to sip the nectar of plants, flowers and the occasional willow. He’s simply around for breeding purposes. It’s the female that causes all the grief, sticking her long nose into your business at every opportunity.

She needs the blood after mating to produce her eggs, and the more blood she gets, the more eggs she can lay. The eggs are laid singly or, more commonly, together in rafts and can hatch in one to five days. That means a whole new generation of bloodsuckers born each week.

Alaska and Yukon provide for the discriminating mosquito. Frozen tundra turns into boggy marshes each spring providing plenty of stagnant waters for the hatching larvae that feed off the fine organic particles produced by decomposing plants. Cool temperatures and plenty of good food and sunshine turn helpless mosquito pupa into robust feeding machines. They’re most menacing form dawn to dusk. In the north where the sun barely sets for several weeks that means almost anytime is prime time.

It may seem ironic that man, supposedly nature’s most evolved beast (the mosquito has been around for millions of years), should expend such energy and expense to protect himself from a two milligram insect, an insect who resides at the very bottom of the food chain.

What are we so afraid of? Fortunately, the possibility of dengue fever or malaria, a very real threat in many parts of the world, is not a risk in the north.. yet! (This is only because the thing preventing the spread of malaria is the lack of the protozoal causative organism, Plasmodium, and with global warming we’ll probably revisit this in 20 to 30 years). But there is that damn itch. That very special blend of a mosquito’s saliva, if you’re unfortunate enough to be allergic to it, can raise a welt the size of a dime and induce fingernails to rip across your flesh until it bleeds. Not to mention that noise mosquitoes make. The hyper speed beating of wings that sounds like a dentist’s drill coming towards your ear.

To not-so-lowly mosquito is merely annoying on its own, but its propensity to travel en masse can make it a dangerous adversary indeed. Researchers have estimated that mosquitoes in northern Canada can reach densities of 12 million adult mosquitoes per hectare. In the name of science, one researcher in northern Canada offered up his bare arm to see just how many mosquitoes would attack at once. At the measured rate of 280 forearm bites per minute, it’s estimated that an adult male could lose half his blood in less than two hours.

It is the poor animals that are most vulnerable to mosquito attacks. With only their flapping ears to protect them, a full grown caribou can be literally driven insane, even to the death, by thousands of feasting mosquitoes. At least we humans have the ultimate defense against these diminutive predators. We can stay inside.

And keep in mind: it only lasts for a couple of months. After that… it’s blackfly season!