This one I really do not understand. I took my bike out this morning for a short ride up the hill past crown point. It is all uphill. On the way back, a nice leisurely downhill run in the highest gear, I got hit in the face, specifically in the right side of my upper lip, with a bee, who, being malicious, decided with dying breath, to sting me. Damn. My upper right lip is now puffy and funny looking, to match the rest of face, I suppose. Fine. Semi-normal summer occurance. I do not die or even get sick from beestings. But goddamnit, I got bit in exactly the same spot on Friday, the first day of the Chelan hike. A bee, unbeknownst to me, flew into my handful of gorp and stung my damned lip as I tossed it in my mouth.
Later, also on that Friday, I was looking for firewood for our first camp (wood that would later contribute to a scorched chili-leg) I got into a bee’s nest and was stung on my hands, feet and, you guessed it, right side of my lip. However, this time it was the lower lip. But regardless, this bee-lip connection is becoming a real pain in the ass, or lip, actually.
Puffily yours,
FPP
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