An omen at the border bridge - a huge cloud of bugs obscured our vision through the windshield. Now, a week later, my head is covered in scabs. My left ear is almost normal size and no longer purple. My calves are still ringed at the sock line. The poor dogs' bellies and ears are healing after being nearly consumed by black flies. My new glamping tent looks like a mob massacre happened inside from the big blood smeared on the walls. We bailed for plan B - day trips and hotels on the upper peninsula. I don't remember a buggier July up North.
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