A relative stranger and I gabbed about bees between swim sets at 7:15 in the morning, and for those who know me well, that's a standard statement: early alarms for training and conversations about insects. Growing up, I spent more than a decade as an amateur entomologist with my local 4-H club. I discounted my own expertise then because of my age, but I'd argue now that spending half your life on something qualifies as authority.

I love insects -- six-legged creatures with three body segments -- as much as I deeply dislike spiders (while simultaneously geeking about the artistry and physics of their webs). As a kid, I searched for insects like a real-world Pokemon game, and I paid zero attention to slugs aside from college mascots.

Slugs don't elevate above insects on my rankings, but they're rising after a trip to Olympic National Park. I *pretended* to lick two huge banana slugs in the Hoh Rainforest, but following through is a bad idea for a lot of reasons. Their slime can absorb 100 times its weight in water. It also contains noxious chemicals to deter predators and dumb tourists. Cool, cool stuff. 

Except not if you were a rail commuter in Japan this summer. A tiny slug, less than inch, caused a power outage that delayed 12,000 people. I'm reading a whole book about trails, and they offer a fine metaphor for life, but I still favor friends with wings instead of slimy paths.

Postscript...
A quick follow-up to last month's newsletter >> I finished 42nd in my age group at the USA Triathlon national championships. Not quite good enough to make Team USA but a solid morning in Cleveland nonetheless.
 

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