4:38 pm

I've made three visits to Munson Lake in the past week or so, and all have come to an abrupt end at 4:38.  Earlier in the day, shortly after my (or our) arrival the thin cloud of black flies that formed around any humans was simply curious.  Occasionally one would land and walk along a forearm for a moment, but for the most part they just flied around happy to have some human company.  They wouldn't bite, and we wouldn't swat.  It was a contented relationship.

It's been a warm and dry spring, and even with 5 days of rain to kick off summer, the Lake and surrounding terrain is quite dry. (Dryer than last August when there were no bugs.)  Since then it has been very sunny, hot and humid, to the point that one would expect the biting insects to be done for the year, or at least seeking some shelter in the shade.  Not so at Munson Lake.

So for the first few hours of the day, whether trail building or bouldering, we were happy and warm.  Just look at Pierre's face in the second photo and tell me he's not having fun.

Pierre A. coming out from under Rubberman V1

Pierre A. happy to be riding the top-out jug on Rubberman V1

By 3 o'clock, we'd each been bitten maybe three times.  Considering the amount of exposed skin (temps in the upper 20's and a 80% humidity) this was pretty good.  Around this time, on Monday when I was solo, I put up the first problem on Graffiti Block; a steep but easy line called Sugar Ditch. On Saturday, Pierre and I were putting the final brush strokes on the Hidden Wall in preparation for grabbing a couple of FA's.

At 4 o'clock, the black fly population doubled. At 4:10 it doubled again. At 4:15 the clouds turned into swarms as they went in to feed.   It is impossible to swat everywhere at once, so the best you can do is hope to cover up.  Not only was it too hot for long sleeves, but it takes both hands to pull on a sweater and long pants.  That wastes valuable swatting time, so we tred to do it all at once; dressing, swatting, packing, and scrambling to the shelter of an air-conditioned car.  Meanwhile the black flies had found the openings and were aggressively harvesting chunks of our skin.

We had reached the stage of surrender to the total frustration that arises from being under relentless attack.  We sealed up the windows, squished those bugs that made it inside the car and got out of there as fast as we could.  The car radio showed 4:38 pm.  The time of retreat on 3 separate days was identical.

Graffiti Block.

Hidden Wall Part 1. The pad is below Pierre's new V1, a crack called Cow Birther.  The right arete is Shear Madness, also a V1