Ken said that today's drive was beautiful, moving from the lush flat fields of Idaho, to thick pine forests, to rolling hills covered with golden grass. I barely looked out the window; I was too busy killing flies. We've had fly issues before when we've camped in fairgrounds and rodeo grounds. Animals attract flies and the warmth of our rolling home was an even bigger attraction. We had our windows closed because it was cold, but we did go in and out a few times while we were there. That's all it took.
Before we left we each took a fly swatter and killed the flies we could see. But they kept coming. It might sound like an exaggeration to say I killed 200 flies while Ken drove, but judging by the piles of corpses I accumulated, it's an accurate figure. I used his high tech swatter which zaps the critters with an electric burst. The smell of burnt hair filled the motor home. When we stopped for gas, I swept the corpses out the door and went back to killing more.
Here in Pendleton the temperatures are much warmer and we opened all the windows and herded out as many as we could. Then we went back to swatting and zapping. We went out for dinner and came back to another round. Where were they all coming from? It was as if someone had brought in a sack of eggs about to hatch.
We like to camp and go to national parks to enjoy the wildlife, but this wasn't the sort of wildlife I was looking forward to. Note to self: don't camp in fairgrounds in cold weather.