The last time I crossed West over the Mississippi was in Missouri where the river is much mightier. I almost missed the crossing this time. I saw a small plaque near Jacobson, MN, so I pulled over to capture the occasion. Within 10 seconds I was covered with mosquitos. Biting through my clothes. Burrowing into my hair.
I ran screaming into the car. Some followed me so I blasted the AC as cold as it would go to stun the little f*ckers. I can’t wait for the desert. Bring it, scorpions.