The mosquitoes, if they were guides from above, missed their cue by 9 hours and 400 miles - or maybe not.

Today was scheduled to be a 420 mile, six hour journey from Duluth to Saint Ignace, Michigan.  I climbed in the MINI at ten o'clock and figured my arrival around five or six.  Nine and one half hours later I was idling in traffic while blood thirsty insects circled my car.

The Upper Peninsula of Michigan extends eastward between Lake Superior and Lake Michigan.  Deeply forested lakeshores are dotted with tiny towns.  Clearly intended to provide accommodation to winter skiers and summer travelers, the towns are largely empty.  The tiny motels are closed and many are for sale; a few lonely cafes await the unlucky tourist.  Between these small towns, either waiting for summer or decay, the states of Michigan and Wisconsin are engaged in large scale highway renovation.  

When I'm not slowing down to pass through empty towns, I'm waiting for highway workers or creeping through partially repaired roadways.  Miles and hours creep by.  The Upper Peninsula is beautiful and would be more so at a speed greater than thirty five miles per hour.

Nine and one half hours after leaving Duluth, I round the final corner to Saint Ignace.  My hotel is just six blocks away and I'm looking forward to getting out of the car.  One last time, I'm stopped by construction.  This time, Saint Ignace has taken to ripping apart the main thoroughfare and I'm stuck waiting a quarter hour while the blond flag person flirts with a policeperson - both ignoring the traffic piling up behind their government employee romance. The mosquitoes descend and swirl in columns above the engines of idling vehicles.  Half inch long mosquitoes with furry antennae cover my windshield and sniff around the vents of the car.

Israel may have had 40 years to wander the desert.  I, however, have to be back to work in significantly less time.  The Israelites would have had less patience too, had they grown up in the age of the Internet.  They'd also have had a nifty 7-plague video game called "Pharaoh."  Thirty minutes and a can of Off later, the mosquitoes are vanquished and I've reached my hotel.

From the balcony of my room I can see Mackinaw Island.  Tomorrow, after liberally applying mosquito repellant to the exposed areas of my body, I will take a journey to explore the island.  In the interim, I will sleep and hope not to dream of insects wearing orange vests.