Elk Rapids, Mich. — THE lake was glassy and dark, the sky black and filled with stars. I was perched on an Adirondack chair at the end of a dock and felt suspended in the universe. The only sound was the soft lapping of small waves against the shoreline; the only scent was a heady mixture of pine and cedar. I took a deep breath and exhaled, decompressing, relaxing, becoming one with nature.
That is, until the first dive-bombing mosquito hit. Followed by another and another. Biting my legs, my arms, my face -- any place that was exposed. They even bit through the denim of my jeans. Enough, I thought, retreating. I wanted to become one with nature, not donate blood to the Mosquito Red Cross.
Each summer for the last dozen years or so, I've visited friends who have a cottage on a pretty lake in northern Michigan. It's a wonderful place to escape the clamor of the city. Unfortunately, squadrons of stiletto-wielding mosquitoes summer here too. Each year, I'm carved up and return home with polka-dot skin, my legs and arms covered with dozens of large red welts.
This summer, I tried something new: killer threads -- clothing that supposedly zaps bugs before they can zap you. It's called Buzz Off Insect Repellent Apparel. You wear it instead of insecticide, although it may be more accurate to say you become a walking tower of insecticide.
The Buzz Off company, which is based in Greensboro, N.C., bonds the garments with the repellent permethrin, a man-made version of a natural insect repellent derived from chrysanthemums. It's found in insect sprays, foggers, flea dips and mosquito abatement products.
Because friends refer to me as a mosquito magnet -- in fact, I sometimes wonder if I'm invited places because of this Pied Piper quality -- I thought I'd make a good test subject. But planning the experiment brought up the question: Why are some people the chosen ones? What is it that puts a bull's-eye on certain folks?
"There are lots of theories," said entomologist Joe Conlon, technical advisor to the American Mosquito Control Assn., a scientific and educational group. "Fair skin, blond hair, people who exude more lactic acid -- in other words, sweat more. People who have smelly feet. Could that be you?" he asked, laughing.
"I hope not," I answered.
"Mosquitoes like the smell of limburger cheese too," Conlon said. More laughter.
"I hope that's not me either."
"There's some slight evidence they seek females more frequently than males."
"Maybe that's it," I said, relieved.
Conlon was a font of information: "Mosquitoes have been around for 170 million years, and it's not because they're stupid."
Another tidbit: They aren't looking for dinner when they tap into your bloodstream. They survive on nectar. The biters are females and require protein-rich blood to produce a batch of eggs. After sinking her hypodermic-like mouth into a human, the mother-to-be will suck two or three times her weight in blood. Just thinking about it made me feel faint.
An appealing pitch
I came across Buzz Off clothing in a mail-order catalog from Magellan's (www.magellans.com). The Santa Barbara-based company, which specializes in travel supplies, displayed a page and a half of shirts, pants, vests and accessories. "Just tell those bugs to buzz off," read the headline, followed by: "Buzz Off apparel repels mosquitoes, ticks, fleas, chiggers, ants, no-see-ums and other biting pests without lotion or spray."
That line -- "without lotion or spray" -- appealed to me. Mosquitoes may not like insecticide, but neither do I. I hate slathering it on; I hate breathing the fumes. With my annual foray into the skeeter-filled North Woods looming, I thought Buzz Off was worth checking out. So, I called Magellan's and ordered a long-sleeved shirt ($79), convertible pants with zip-off lower legs ($79) and a goofy-looking cap with flaps that cover the neck and ears ($28). I found other Buzz Off garments in an L.L. Bean catalog (www.llbean.com) and ordered a long-sleeve T-shirt ($25) and denim jeans ($39.50). Other Buzz Off clothing is available online and in stores such as REI and Adventure 16.
When my packages arrived, I had a pleasant surprise: None of the garments smelled like insecticide. The Magellan clothing, made by the Seattle-based company Ex Officio (www.exofficio.com), was a lightweight polyester and cotton blend. The pieces seemed pricey but had several pluses. Besides deterring insects, they had a sun protection factor of 30-plus. They also had practical features such as flap-covered pockets and mesh vents, and were designed to wick moisture away from the body.
My L.L. Bean clothing, which the Maine company designs and sends to Buzz Off to be bonded, had pluses and minuses. The jeans were heavy and stiff; I couldn't imagine facing the Midwest's summer heat and humidity in them. They didn't even make it into my suitcase. But the yellow T-shirt I ordered was delightfully soft and comfortable. It was destined to become my favorite piece of anti-mosquito garb.
