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Sharing the Woods and Waters: A Practical Guide to Bugs In Da UP

  • Sue
  • May 6
  • 18 min read

Updated: 22 hours ago

Sue here. Woods & Waters has been guiding tours and renting kayaks, SUPs, and bikes in the Les Cheneaux Islands since 2001 — I personally began coming to this area in 2012 and took over the business in late 2018 (you can read more on the Our Story page).

Bugs are simply part of being outdoors. That's the frame I want to start with, because so many conversations about bugs in the UP starts with a story along the lines of — "this one time, at band camp." But the truth is that bug encounters of the third kind vary tremendously in the Upper Peninsula .

There are times and places in the UP where the bugs genuinely win. A still, humid evening in the wrong spot, a continuos stretch of black fly hatches in late May — those are real, and no amount of optimism will carry you through. But there are also conditions that work in your favor: a steady lake breeze, open water, the right time of day. Most of bug season is about knowing which situation you're entering, and planning accordingly.

Nobody comes north for the insect life. But none of this should keep you indoors — the benefits to your body, mind, and soul far outweigh a few bites and a little planning. They live here; we're the visitors. The trick is sharing the place gracefully — and, like any good village mystery, surviving it.


Here's the practical version, by character — Midsomer Murders for entomologists.

Black Flies

Notorious — like Bonnie and Clyde, except with smaller getaway vehicles and a very different approach to your hairline.

A big problem in the Les Cheneaux? Not usually — and here's why that matters across the whole EUP.

Black flies need flowing water to breed. Clean, well-oxygenated streams and rivers — they're actually an indicator species for good water quality. Ironically, the cleaner your streams, the more black flies. Lakes, ponds, and channels like ours? Not breeding habitat. Along M-134, places to be wary of are where rivers and streams meet Lake Huron — like the Pine river and the outlets of Nunns and Albany creeks. Other spots in the greater Les Cheneaux area are the mouths of the Carp and Munuscong rivers or the Cut River heading west on US-2 from St. Ignace.

What this means for the EUP as a whole as you plan your road trip: black flies come from where the streams come from. The Lake Superior shoreline and inland river country — Whitefish Point, the Tahquamenon watershed, the Two Hearted River drainage, the Hiawatha National Forest interior — are legendary for black flies because they sit at the outlets of miles of pristine stream habitat. On a bad June day, these places are full-on hellscapes. Les Cheneaux fares better. Our channels and bays aren't fed by big river systems, and the breezes off Lake Huron suppress fly activity most days. You'll still meet them, especially on a calm warm day near the mouth of an inland creek, but the catastrophic outdoor-screening-of-The-Birds experience belongs to other parts of the UP, not here.

A bit of biology, because it actually helps you plan: black flies emerge once stream water hits about 40-50°F, which usually means mid-May to mid-June around here, occasionally lingering into early July if it stays cool and humid. Cold spring? Later. Warm spring? Earlier. The Aldo Leopold Festival the week after Memorial Day falls right in the middle of peak black fly season — festival hikers and birders, come prepared!

One thing worth knowing: black flies go for the face, neck, hairline, and ears — the soft, exposed skin around your head. That's why a head net is one of the most genuinely useful things you can own up here (of course we sell them in the shop, we like to be prepared!).

Long sleeves and DEET on your arms won't help you if they're chewing on your scalp.

While we're talking biology — almost all of the bugs that bite you are female, which means they're not coming for you out of malice. They need a blood meal to feed their kids. It's a single mother working a second job. The males are off on flowers somewhere being passive. So when you slap one and feel triumphant, just know: she was probably trying to do everything she could to improve her larvae's chances of getting that elusive generous college scholarship.


Mosquitoes

Almost never a problem on the water. Mosquitoes are lazy fliers, don't like crossing big expanses of water, and lake breezes don't do them any favors.

When you're going to hear that high-pitched whine is when you land at dusk after a sunset tour, or when you're hiking through woods with no breeze to keep them from landing on you. That's when you need a strategy.

Skip the campfire and s'mores on calm humid nights as you'll be the snack, not the marshmallow. Wait for a breeze or for full dark before swapping campfire stories.

For paddling, you really shouldn't have to douse yourself in repellent for the brief few minutes between water, helping us reload boats onto the trailer, and your vehicle. For hiking, come prepared — long sleeves, long pants, head nets, and a repellent with DEET. (Same toolkit works for ticks, which is convenient.)

A note on DEET concentration: the CDC recommends at least 20% DEET for tick protection, and around 20-30% for mosquitoes. Anything under 10% is basically a one-hour product. You don't need 100% — research shows protection plateaus around 50%. A 20-30% product is the sweet spot for most outdoor play. We carry Ben's in a few different concentrations at the shop. (Higher percentage = lasts longer, but also more aggressive on gear. Even 30% will eventually mar plastic if it sits on it. The 100% stuff will do it faster and more obviously. Apply only to your exposed skin — not your clothing, watch, or gear.)

If you don't love DEET, you've got real options. Picaridin is the one I'd point most people toward — EPA-registered, works as well as DEET against mosquitoes and ticks, doesn't damage gear (DEET will eat plastic, dissolve fishing line, and ruin synthetic fabrics — picaridin won't), and doesn't have the chemical smell or greasy feel. Oil of lemon eucalyptus (OLE/PMD) and IR3535 are two other EPA-registered alternatives that work. These aren't "natural" in the home-brewed essential oil sense, but they're not DEET either, and they're backed by actual data. The home-brewed essential oil sprays and fabric-softener sheets? Mixed evidence at best, and Michigan has biting insects that transmit some genuinely dangerous diseases — Lyme, West Nile, EEE, with cases on the upswing. Pack something that actually works.

Otherwise: pre-treated permethrin clothing for those hating directly fogging their bodies or plan to shower after playing outdoors to remove the chemicals. Whatever strategy you'll actually use is the right one. Head nets, by the way, are a great chemical-free way to get outdoors — no spray, no skin reaction, no transferred-to-your-PB&J residue (I'm team crunchy).

Midges

Mid-May through early June, sometimes in clouds. You may accidentally eat one and likely won't find them as tasty as the birds do — or as tasty as the dessert on our Sunset Tours. But they're a sign of a healthy ecosystem, just like the mayflies. The ones you'll mostly encounter here don't bite. There IS a biting cousin — the no-see-um (a biting midge), so small they slip right through standard window screens and earn the name because you really won't see them. They breed in wet leaf litter, marsh edges, and damp organic matter, and they show up worst at dawn and dusk on calm humid evenings near shore. Easy to manage with a head net and long sleeves once the sun's getting low if you're in an area where they do make an appearance. They're often confused with black flies, since both are small and bite, but they're a different beast — and unlike black flies, picaridin actually does better against them than DEET.

Either way: midge swarms look annoying. They're harmless. Move on.

Mayflies

Mayflies are the most theatrical bug in the Great Lakes. The big show in Les Cheneaux is the Hex hatch — Hexagenia limbata, also called the giant Michigan mayfly or simply "the hex." They're one of the largest mayflies in North America, with adults up to an inch long, and they're so abundant during peak hatch that swarms have shown up on Doppler radar (Lake Erie, 1999, 3 to 6 kilometers wide). Hex hatches in northern Michigan lakes peak from late June into early July. There are smaller mayfly hatches before the Hex — brown drakes, then mahoganies — but those are a what fishing lure/fly to use concern more than a windshield concern.

When there's a big hatch, they're everywhere. You'll drive through a cloud of them and your windshield will tell the story for the next month (FYI there's a self-serve car wash one block from our shop). You can hear their wings if the hatch is dense enough. It is, genuinely, one of the more remarkable sounds in nature.

My sister hates them. To be fair, here's why: a strong hatch means waking up to find the front of your cottage covered in exhausted mayflies hanging on for dear life. Their legs have these tiny Velcro-like hooks. So when they finally settle down after a night of vigorous courtship, they cling to your siding — and getting them off is harder than peeling your kid off their smart device. (Which, frankly, is part of why we do this work in the first place.)

Up side: gulls love mayflies. After a big hatch you can find perched on dock pilings like an over-fed pride of lions watching the Lions on Thanksgiving — gorged, content, and barely able to fly. (For the curious: the Lions are 38-45-2 all-time on Thanksgiving Day — and the 2026 matchup is against the Chicago Bears who lead 10-9.) You can usually find a hatch by looking for the circling gulls. Nature's Las Vegas-strip neon sign.

For paddling, mayflies are a non-issue. They don't bite. These insects undergo a marvelous transition from nymphs that live in our shallow waters for 1–2 years, molting many times before they're ready to emerge and answer that perfect MayfliesOnly listing. The Les Cheneaux Islands are prime mayfly habitat — our channels and bays mostly run less than 20 feet deep with ample soft lakebed sediments where nymphs burrow and water that warms quickly. When the lakebed water hits around 60˚F (late June into early July around here), the nymphs rise up through the water column.

They hatch at the surface, then float there on surface tension, waiting for their wings to dry. This happens most often at dusk and into the first hours of full dark, when the water is calm. The coolest thing is when you're paddling and feel the tiniest drop of water from above — that's a mayfly that just made it into the sky (and avoided becoming dinner for a smallmouth bass). If you're lucky, one might land on you. Marvel at their wings. Pluck them gently off by grabbing them at their wing tips. Move on. Their whole airborne life is one or two days. The next day, you may see shoreline edges full of their abandoned exoskeletons from their final wardrobe change — not unlike Taylor Swift's outfit changes between eras.

Stable Flies (a.k.a. Canoe Flies — make of that what you will)

These are the ones that earn their reputation. Mid- to late summer when it gets hot. Either individuals or they can swarm.

Stable flies breed inland — in decaying organic matter — and they hate flying over open water. They come out to shorelines on hot humid days when wind is blowing from land toward water. Pictured Rocks and Crisp Point Lighthouse get them on south winds because their shorelines face north — south wind = land-to-water. Around the Les Cheneaux, with islands in every direction, the rule is different: whatever wind is blowing off the land and onto your particular beach is the wind that brings stable flies. North-facing shores get them on south winds, south-facing shores get them on north winds, and so on (weather nerds — north winds are often less humid than southerlies also making our area generally less afflicted!). Pile on warm muggy air and beware!

The advantage paddlers have: you can move. Find a beach with stable flies, paddle to the lee side of an island where the wind is blowing onto the water, and you're back in business.

They prefer ankles but will happily go after wherever they can land — even through thin clothing. The bites hurt and itch like crazy, and you want to avoid them. Your repellent isn't going to save you here. To a stable fly, your DEET is just a condiment — the ketchup-or-gravy debate at a Yooper's pasty dinner. The fly's coming either way.

The fix is mechanical: long pants or tights, and we may still recommend a spray skirt to close access to your legs — sometimes we even just pack one in your boat without telling you, like a wise parent making sure the kid remembers PJs for the slumber party. The flies lose interest when there's nothing to bite. You win.

Deer Flies & Horse Flies

The biting flies that show up in late June through August on hot sunny days. Same general "wow these hurt" category as stable flies, different rules.

Deer flies are the smaller ones — triangle-shaped, patterned wings, often with colorful eyes that look painted. Horse flies are the big ones — broad, fast, and loud enough that you'll hear them coming. Both lay their eggs in mud at the edges of ponds and streams (so wet-edge habitat, more inland than stable fly territory), and both have the same predatory style: they're attracted to motion, dark colors (especially blue), body heat, and exhaled CO₂ (like mosquitos). They target the highest point of a moving body, which is why they go for your head and hair like they're collecting trophies.

DEET works partially on deer flies and barely at all on horse flies. Picaridin does a little better. The real strategies are mechanical and behavioral:

  • Wear light colors. Dark blue is the worst. They literally can't see you as well in white or tan.

  • Stop moving. They have shorter attention spans than humans — and humans these days are clocking in at about 47 seconds, per UC Irvine researcher Gloria Mark. Freeze for a minute and let the fly get bored. Wish I had known that as a kid when I would try to pedal my bike as fast as possible.

  • Or keep moving forward. They're territorial — outpace them out of their patch and you're fine. Paddlers have a huge advantage here; horse flies will follow a kayak for a while, then give up once you've cleared their territory.

  • Wear a hat. Since they target the top of you, a hat absorbs most of the harassment. And you should wear one anyways for sun protection.

For paddling: open water on a breezy day = no problem. Calm hot days near a wooded shoreline or marsh edge = bring a hat and keep moving.

A pasty interlude

Brian's paternal family is all Finnish from the Keweenaw — Chassell on one side, Laurium on the other — so pasties are non-negotiable in this house. (However, I personally don't love them. There's no cheese.) Brian's paternal grandmother Edna passed in 2007 and her recipe is the one we still make (see below).

A few things worth knowing about a real pasty:

Rutabaga or no rutabaga? A whole denominational schism. Edna's recipe uses ¼ rutabaga, which puts her in the more traditional Cornish-mining-camp camp. Some families leave it out. Some die on this hill. I'm not getting in the middle of it but I like rutabaga. And parsnips.

Why shortening? Pasties were lunchboxes for miners. They needed to survive being carried into a mine and reheated on a shovel over a candle. Sturdy crust, not a delicate flake. Butter was expensive and produced a more tender, less durable crust — fine for a Sunday pie, wrong for a workday. Lard was traditional. Shortening came in later as the affordable, shelf-stable middle ground.

If you want to nerd out on the why, Alton Brown did an entire Good Eats episode about the science of crust (Crust Never Sleeps, 2000), in which he literally fights wrestling puppets named Tender and Flaky. Tender = butter (fat coats flour, prevents gluten). Flaky = lard or shortening (solid fat creates flaky layers when it melts).

Modern alternatives if you don't want to use shortening (FYI, in baking, fats can always be exchanged 1:1):

  • Lard — most traditional, most authentic to the era. Comes back into vogue now and then. Best flavor. When at the grocer, keep an eye out for non-hydrogenated lard versus hydrogenated. The non-hydrogenated version is more "real" and similar to what your ancestors used to keep in a small crock by the stove.

  • Butter — more tender, less sturdy. Works for a sit-down pasty, less ideal if you're hauling it down a mine shaft.

  • 50/50 lard and butter — Alton's preferred blend. You get both characteristics.

Edna's Pasty Crust

  • 5 cups flour

  • 1 cup whole wheat flour

  • 2 cups shortening (or modern alternative — see above)

  • 2 tsp salt

  • Water to hold together

Edna's Pasty Filling:

  • 2 lbs meat

  • 6-8 potatoes

  • 1 large onion

  • 6 carrots

  • ¼ rutabaga

Makes about 8 pasties. Bake at 350°F for 45 minutes.

Edna's instructions for the dough were: "Mix until it feels right." She lived to be 94. I'm taking it on faith.

You might also find it useful to first brown and cook the meat (as it won't cook fully inside the dough and food poisoning is never fun), and chop all your veggies into half-inch pieces. Modern recipes will often encourage sautéing the veggies in the pan before cooking the meat too, to partially soften them and then be able to help flavor the meat. Use kosher salt to add something for your tastebuds to enjoy because otherwise these will be bland and needing ketchup or gravy for sure. You also need to roll out the dough to about 1/4" thickness and shape into 6-8" rounds; scoop 1/2–3/4 C of the combined filling onto one side; fold over and crimp the edges with tines of a fork to seal. Edna's recipe card doesn't mention any of this because Edna assumed you knew how to cook. The play-by-play is a modern courtesy.

Yellow Jackets

Late summer through fall. Mostly when it's warm and they're hunting protein and sugar for the colony.

Important note: leave your Faygo at the shop. (Yes, in Michigan it is pop, not soda. We have feelings about this. My maternal grandfather, Nick, was an RC [Royal Crown] and Vernors pop distributor — back in the day, that meant he made the pop, bottled it, loaded his truck, and delivered a route throughout the greater Grand Rapids area. And yes, my mom drinks Vernors warm and flat for any number of ailments. Michigan penicillin. Vernors actually started in 1866 as a pharmacist's creation — James Vernor was Michigan's first licensed pharmacist, and the soda began as something he served from his drugstore soda fountain. So when your mom hands you a warm Vernors for a stomachache, she is, technically, observing a 160-year-old prescribing tradition. It also makes a respectable Detroit Mule when you've run out of ginger beer — it's a very feisty ginger pop.)

Anyway — yellow jackets are particularly aggressive about anything sweet in the late season. They're trying to bulk up before frost. An open can of orange Faygo is basically a yellow jacket dinner bell. Closed bottles, water, and unsweetened drinks are fine.

If they show up at your lunch break, don't swat. Swatting them releases an alarm pheromone that calls in the others. Move calmly away from the food source, finish elsewhere if you need to. They will lose interest when you're not standing over a sugar buffet.

One serious note: if you have a severe sting reaction (anaphylaxis), bring your epi-pen on every tour and let your guide know before we head out. Yellow jackets are aggressive in late season and we want to be ready if a sting happens.

Ticks

Yes, they're out there — in the woods and on the islands. Both wood ticks and deer ticks. And the situation has changed. Michigan Lyme disease cases nearly quadrupled between 2022 and 2025, with the state recording over 2,100 cases in 2025 compared to 553 in 2022. For the first time, the CDC has classified Michigan as a "high-incidence jurisdiction" for Lyme. Anaplasmosis (the second-most-common tick-borne illness here) has nearly quintupled in the same window. Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever is in the mix too, carried by wood ticks and the slowly spreading Lone Star. Ticks like our hot humid summers and survive our winters fine. Tick checks aren't optional anymore.

Always do a tick check after playing outdoors. Make it a habit, not an afterthought. Long pants tucked into socks, light-colored clothing if you have it, and a mirror or a friend at the end of the day. Permethrin-treated clothing works for the seriously concerned (lasts through several washes, kills ticks on contact).

One important caveat for the cat ladies (the Tortured Poets contingent — Meredith Grey is judging you right now): wet permethrin is highly toxic to cats. Once it's fully dried into the fabric it's safe, but if you're treating clothing yourself, do it outside and let it dry completely away from the cat. Pre-treated factory clothing (Insect Shield brand, etc.) is already cured and safe out of the package.

Ticks don't actually jump. They climb up grass and brush, hold on with their back legs, and wave their front legs around — which have these tiny hooks — and literally catch a ride when something brushes by. It's called questing, and it's why most of them get on you from the knee down. Focus your spray on your boots, ankles, and lower legs and you'll catch most of them before they catch you.

When you get home, throw your clothes in the dryer on high heat for 30 minutes. Ticks can survive a wash cycle — and a swim, for that matter — but they don't survive heat. Dryer first, then wash if needed. This is one of the most effective and underused tick precautions out there. A few more tricks worth your time. Gaiters — or just pulling your socks up over your pant cuffs — block another pathway in. Think of it as your Folklore era: practical, muted, a little cottagecore, and frankly nobody at the trailhead is judging. And before you climb back in the vehicle, run a tape roller — the lint-and-pet-hair kind — over your clothes to catch stragglers. You can go further and strip down, stashing outdoor clothes in a ziptop 2-gallon bag for a clean transfer to the dryer at home. None of this catches every hitchhiker. But it's smart insurance, because Michigan's tick situation keeps getting more complicated.

The Lone Star tick — linked to alpha-gal syndrome, a tick-borne allergy to red meat, yes, genuinely — has been questing its way up from the southwest Lower Peninsula since 2020. And in 2025, researchers confirmed the Asian longhorned tick in Berrien County for the first time in the state. They hitch rides on people, dogs, and migratory birds, which is its own Monty Python problem: nobody asked the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow, but maybe somebody should have asked what it was carrying. A little defensive strategy now might be the thing that finally gets you — and the Lions — to the Super Bowl.

If alpha-gal syndrome has you curious — or alarmed — Radiolab covered it twice, in episodes aptly named "Alpha Gal" and "Return of Alpha Gal." Worth a listen on your next drive north.

Bug Season Calendar — Eastern UP

Rough seasonal guide for the entire eastern Upper Peninsula. Specific years vary; cool springs push everything later, warm springs pull it earlier.

  • Mid-May to mid-June — Black flies peak. Worst near streams and rivers, especially on warm humid days with no wind. Non-biting midges in clouds (harmless, just annoying).

  • Late May to early July — Mosquitoes active in woods at dawn and dusk. Worst on calm humid evenings with no breeze. Rarely on the water.

  • Late May into early July — No-see-ums (biting midges) on calm humid evenings near shore, dawn and dusk.

  • Late June into early July — Hex mayfly hatch on shallow lakes and channels. They don't bite — they're the show.

  • Late June through August — Deer flies and horse flies on hot sunny days, especially near wet edges and woods. Worst when calm and humid.

  • Mid- to late summer (July–August) — Stable flies at the beach during hot humid days with land-to-water wind. Worst on beaches with rotting organic material.

  • Late summer through fall (August–October) — Yellow jackets at picnics, hunting protein and sugar before frost. Worst on warm days.

  • All summer. All year. — Ticks. Always. Always tick checks.

Quick Questions Visitors Ask

When is bug season in Michigan's Upper Peninsula? Roughly mid-May through October (or when several hard frosts start occurring in late September or early October). Peak biting fly activity is late May through early July. Mosquitoes overlap and linger longer. Yellow jackets show up late summer through fall. Ticks are active the entire warm season.

Are mosquitoes bad on the water in the Les Cheneaux Islands? Almost never. Lake breezes do most of the work. Mosquitoes are lazy fliers and don't cross open water well. The brief landing/loading time at the shop is usually all the exposure you get.

What's the best bug repellent for the Upper Peninsula? Picaridin (20%) for general use; 20-30% DEET if you prefer it; permethrin-treated clothing for tick country. None of these will fully repel black flies or horse flies (and useless for stable flies) — physical barriers (head nets, long sleeves, hats) matter more for those.

Are there ticks in and on the Les Cheneaux Islands? Yes — both wood ticks and blacklegged (deer) ticks. Michigan Lyme disease cases nearly quadrupled between 2022 and 2025. Always do a tick check after playing outdoors and tumble clothes in a hot dryer for 30 minutes. Other tick species are expanding their ranges all the time.

When does the mayfly hatch happen in northern Michigan? The big Hex (Hexagenia limbata) hatch peaks late June into early July in Les Cheneaux's shallow protected channels. Smaller mayfly hatches happen earlier in June.

Where are black flies worst in the UP? Wherever there are clean, cold, fast streams — meaning Lake Superior shoreline, the Tahquamenon and Two Hearted river drainages, Whitefish Point, and the Hiawatha National Forest interior. The Les Cheneaux fare better because we don't sit at a major watershed outlet.

Why are there sometimes huge swarms of flies at UP beaches? Likely stable flies, which breed inland in decaying vegetation and get pushed to shorelines on hot humid days when wind is blowing from land toward water. They're worst on beaches with rotting organic material. Move to the lee side of an island or a beach with onshore (water-to-land) wind and they disappear.

The short version

Bugs are part of being outside in the UP — they live here, we're visitors playing in their living room. The list above covers the big ones, but you'll still meet the occasional bee, solitary hornet, or miscellaneous gnat, but the realities are:

  • On the water: rarely an issue. Lake breezes do most of the work.

  • On shore at dusk: mosquitoes show up when calm and humid. Long sleeves and a head net solve it.

  • Hot mid-summer: stable flies. Long pants and a spray skirt.

  • Late summer through fall: yellow jackets at lunch. Don't bring sweet drinks.

  • Always: ticks. Always: tick checks. Always: spray boots and ankles. Always: dryer on high for 30 minutes when you get home.

A little preparation and a little entomological understanding will go a long way in this Euchre tournament between insects and humans. The bugs aren't trying to ruin your trip. They're just trying to live their lives, raise their kids, and not get squished. Same as anyone else around here.

 
 
 

633 W M-134 • Cedarville, MI 49719 [See You Soon →]

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Monday – Saturday 10am – 6pm   &   Sundays 12:00–6:00  

Hours may vary due to scheduled tours.

 

Open mid-May through mid-October

Off season? We still respond to calls and emails. Reach out anytime to plan ahead.​

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