Lake St. George

Last Sunday, after a gloomy gray morning and weeks of rain, the sun burst through the sky, breaking up a mass of clouds into Simpson-like tufts of cotton candy, framed by bright blue. Faster than you can say "disgusta", our car was packed and we were burning rubber.

Destination: Lake St. George, one of Maine's 6,000 picture perfect lakes. 30 minutes east of town on Route 3, this lake has a pretty lawn for sunning, a tiny beach, picnic tables and bbq pits for gatherings of family and friends (hint hint), and the cleanest, most beautiful spring fed water for swimming and paddling. Pure heaven.

If there is a draw back to this little oasis from Dullsville, its the thrum of Route 3 in the background. And the black flies.

The black fly is a pesky bloodsucker, somewhere between a gnat and a mosquito in its speed and verocity. They hover, but don't buzz. This adaption lends itself nicely to a sneak attack up your sleeve for a quick chomp. While the species we encountered was more annoying than blood-thirsty, I've heard reports of some nasty black fly reactions, including bleeding and swelling. Just do a google image search on black flys, and you'll see what I mean. (With 50 species of black fly out there in the universe, there is one to torment each and every one of us.)

In a quest to learn more about the black fly, I discovered a funny little group (whose tongue-in-cheek devotion to the "unofficial state bird" recently earned them an NPR interview), the Maine Blackfly Breeder's Association. Two points of redemption for the suckers: black flies are one of the most important pollinators of blueberries, and their presence is an indicator environmental health. It seems they thrive in clean, running water.

So, don't let the blackfly deter you from visiting. Slather on the deet, grab your bug net, and come on!