Being confined to a tent, no matter how roomy, is the pits. When the reason for your confinement is a bloodthirsty, six-legged winged pest – or more accurately, swarms of the little critters – it is downright nauseating. You lie on your back staring at the patterns of light and dark on the tent ceiling listening to the gentle pitter patter of rain. . . oh wait, that’s not rain, it’s the percussion of frantic mosquitoes trying to get inside.

Alaska is the home of at least twenty-seven species of mosquitoes (out of a total of 3,450 species worldwide). Of course, these are not equally distributed throughout the state, nor are they all present at one time. In early spring, as the snow begins to melt and the air warms, we see the first mosquitoes of the year – large and sluggish, as if still in torpor from winter’s cold. These adult mosquitoes spent the winter hibernating in protected places, such as leaf litter or under fallen trees. The species we see later in the summer – quicker, smaller, and thus more difficult to prevent from getting a meal when the repellant wears off – overwinter as eggs or larvae. In any event, the number of mosquito species present in Alaska, much less the world, is staggering. Can you imagine the fieldwork involved? “Hansen, you should know better than that! Identify first, swat later. That could be a new species splattered on your notebook!”

I could understand, maybe even appreciate three or four different species. But twenty-seven for Alaska? Or over three thousand for the world? What possible purpose could they serve? So you suppose all those species were present on the ark? “And of every living thing of all flesh, you shall bring two of every kind into the ark, to keep them alive with you.” (Genesis 6:19) I can just hear Noah. . .

”But really, Lord, every living kind?”

“Yes, Noah. Every kind.”

“Well, but what about snakes? We don’t really need snakes around here. I just loathe snakes.”

“Yes, Noah. Snakes too.”

“But Lord, come on! It was a snake that got us into this mess anyway. Remember? Eve, the Garden of Eden. . . ring any bells?”

A gust of wind sighed through the trees. “I know. But they’re part of your world now. Take two of every kind of snake. Besides, if you didn’t have any snakes, your fields and vineyards would be overrun with rodents. And then what would you do?”

“Okay, okay. I see the snakes.” A long pause follows. “Ummm. . . . Lord?”

“Yes, Noah?”

“Well, ummm. . . I see how snakes can be useful, but ummm. . . well, not to question your judgment or wisdom or anything, but. . .”

“Just spit it out, Noah!”

“Well, what about mosquitoes?! I mean, I don’t want any of those bloodsucking little monsters on the ark with us. What do we need them for? They’re nothing but pests, biting and buzzing and who knows what else? What possible need does this world have for mosquitoes? What were you thinking when you created them?!”

God did not answer for some time and Noah wondered if he had gone too far. But then the Voice spoke again, heavy with sadness and resignation. “Well, Noah, in some ways you’re right. But they weren’t supposed to be that way. Pests, that is. They are my graceful miniature dragons – delicate wings, long legs, built in lances for jousting. Have you ever watched a mosquito fly, how they dance and swerve in the air? Or just hover? But when Eve ate from the tree. . . well, the whole balance was upset and things aren’t what they were meant to be. So now the mosquitoes are the armies of plague and pestilence. So for example, if I want to send a plague on the Egyptians. . .”

“Who are the Egyptians?” Noah interrupted.

“Oh, never mind. That won’t happen for some time yet.”

Oh,” said Noah.

“Mosquitoes feed frogs and birds and bats, which gives you humans a reason to reason to be thankful for such critters that you probably wouldn’t appreciate otherwise,” God explained.

“Hmmmm. That’s a good point,” Noah answered thoughtfully.

“Mosquitoes also serve as a useful source of humor. For example, what do mosquitoes and politicians have in common?” God’s chuckle thundered off the hills.

“Huh? I don’t get it. What’s a politician?” Noah asked.

“Never mind. Be thankful you won’t live long enough to get it,” God answered.

“Okaaaaay. But Lord, back to the point. Do I really have to put mosquitoes on the ark?” Noah whined.

“I’m afraid you do, Noah. Look, I know they’re pesky little critters. Kind of remind me of humans sometimes – but they do serve a purpose, even if it’s not clear to you.”

“Well, I don’t like it. But if you say they have to come, then they have to come.” Noah paused. “But I won’t take responsibility for someone else swatting them dead while we’re floating around!”

God smiled. “Okay, fair enough. Anything else?”

“Well.. . do I really have to bring. . .”

“Noah!”

Maybe it didn’t happen exactly like that, but here we are facing another mosquito season in Alaska and wondering why we have to put up with these buzzing nuisances. Thankfully, breezy conditions keep mosquitoes “grounded” and interestingly, they seek out shade and shelter during the hottest part of the day (i.e., when temperatures are in the 70-85° F range in this part of the state, a time when many people enjoy being outside). It’s also a fairly short season. By late September, most activity has ceased.

So despite Alaska’s reputation for summer misery at the mercy of mosquitoes, they can be lived with. Dressing with light colors and long sleeves helps, as does judicious use of repellants. While DEET-based repellants are by far the most effective, I personally prefer not to let it touch my skin (although I do use it on clothing items), opting for a citronella based repellant instead. As any fisherman will tell you, DEET is so strong that touching fishing line with the residue on one’s hand is enough to weaken the line – and cause one to lose that huge King one hooked.

For more interesting facts about mosquitoes, click on the link to the accompanying article below. And don’t let rumors of Alaska’s avian-sized insects deter you from enjoying outdoor activities in this beautiful state!