Attack of the bug things!

After a great southern fried steak dinner with Flicka and Mike, I took off for Hot Springs, Arkansas. It turns out Bill Clinton grew up there. It looks like a pretty well-to-do town so maybe some of the gumment grease rubbed off onto the locale.
To be fair, it was always a tourist spot and attracted the moneyed set so maybe the place made it on its own. Seeing as how motels were sky-high I headed for the KOA campground (official camping hosts to the insearchofpie team.)

There were lots of expensive motor homes with expensive tow cars around the park, but at the tent area there was only one young couple.
They were from Minnesota and had that accent like you hear in the movie “Fargo.”
Lots of “you betcha” and “Oh yah.” They were a very sweet couple and pulled me over to their campfire and forced me to roast marshmallows while we told camping stories.
I told them about the meteor (or whatever) that I saw in Texas and the fellow said he saw that same object up in Minnesota when they were driving down to Arkansas. Amazing.

The next day I got on the interstate heading east. I saw a sign for a state park called Village Creek, so decided to try it out. The ranger even gave me the senior discount after she saw my license. She said she didn’t think I was that old. Bless her heart!
It’s a beautiful park. I think she said it was 7,000 acres, or was it 17,000? Whatever, it’s huge.

There was a big 3 day long musical to-do happening on May 1st (the next day) with a lot of pickin’ and grinning’. What luck!

But luck turned to literal horse poop when I was sent to the equestrian camp ground.
I guess the rest of the park was full of pickers and grinners.
The minute I stepped out of the van I was swarmed by bugs! Little flying suckers that went into my ears, mouth, eyes and nose. GAH!!!!
It was hot and muggy but I locked myself into the van, only venturing out for the bathroom which was a 100 yard gauntlet. They were especially attracted to my bald head where they would land then do some bug version of the Macarena. I eventually tied a bandanna around my head for my few dashes to the head, which made me look a bit like a pot-bellied Rambo wannabe with Tourettes Syndrome and drew stares from the other campers.

Then to top it off, in the middle of the night something kept whanging into my CB antenna. I wasn’t under any trees so it couldn’t have been branches.
At first I thought someone after a night of sippin’, pickin’ and grinnin’ was foolin’ with me, but my van stands about 6 feet tall and the antenna goes up another 3 feet. I have to open the slider door and stand on the step to reach it, so it couldn’t have been a person doing it.
I figured bats would be able to avoid it with their radar so maybe there were birds flying around after the bugs. I never heard any bird getting his breath knocked out or saying ouch or swearing though and once it whanged 3 times in a row.
Every time it got hit, the whole van would reverberate like a big gong. I now know how the WW2 submariners felt hearing the depth charges hit the outside of the boat.

When morning came I lit out of there in a big hurry. I even drove to the bathroom so I could make a quick getaway. Not even a shower, just get the hell out!

We don’t get a lot of bugs on the Oregon coast. I guess the cold and wind forces them to move to Arkansas.

…more follows…