Between Calgary and Malta, there were very few mosquitoes. Endless, dry praries, yes, but only the occasional mosquito ehich could easily be swatted away.

Then, at the campground in Malta, they attacked in full force, as if to make up for the days they'd missed. My legs now look like a German Streuselkuchen, covered in innumerable welts and bumps.

But, the next day, fed up with the headwind, I lounged around at the lake by Sleeping Buffalo. This led to an invitation to help eat the piles of food brought there for a wake. Aside from being delightfully fed, I was also taught about mosquito spray.

So it seems that the measure of strength lies in the DEET content, and anything above 25 will take care of mosquitoes.

Generously, after feeding me, someone also handed me a can of strength 40 (!!!) spray. I'm sure there are consequences or downsides to something the harsh, but for now, I'm enjoying my mosquito free life too much to mind.