Jack Tame: A scratcher's lament

Always. Pack. Repellent. Photo / Thinkstock

Opinion

There was a sign on the gate when I pulled in and at first I thought it was a joke.

"The Biting Gnats have hatched," it said. "No refunds due to insect bites."

"Ha!" I thought. Good to see the park rangers having a laugh. I paid my ten bucks to get into Antelope Island, a state park in Utah, and drove on as the sunlight tickled my knees.

Shorts were a bad choice.

The next warning came in the car park. I'd only stopped to check the park map and grab brochures, but a mat had covered my windscreen like the very uncool sun visor my parents have for their car. I hit the blades and smeared them around like a Jackson Pollock special.

I should point out I'm not actually a big wuss. I've travelled the tropics and sustained more than my share of mosquito and sand fly bites. On West Coast road trips we kids would play games in the car by pinching the skin around an active sand fly.

The legend was that if trapped, he couldn't withdraw his sucker and eventually would explode with blood. The Tames' was a messy house.

I could've heeded the warning at the entrance. I could've worn something other than a T-shirt and shorts. I could even have Googled the biting gnats and found the warning from an expert entomologist.

The bugs, he said, "have cutting, rasping teeth. They literally slash and tear the skin tissue to feed on blood."

Indeed. You know that feeling when you bite a crisp apple and rip off a big hunk of flesh?

That's what it felt like. Except I was the apple. The juicy sustenance for a thousand little bastards, all maddened and scrapping for my most vulnerable bits. Legs and arms? Check. Ears? Check. Hands, ankles, and the backs of my knees? Check, check, check.

They bit me twice on the arse.

The good news is that, unlike mosquitoes, gnats don't carry disease. The bad news is that 50-odd swollen, itchy bites make for a very uncomfortable flight home. And the moral of the story?

Always. Pack. Repellent.

• Jack Tame is on Newstalk ZB Saturdays, 9am-midday.