I’ll admit I like to grouse when the weather makes commuting by bike more of a challenge.

Now, however, I have to admit, is the perfect time to ride. Sure, the afternoon/early-evening can get a bit steamy, but, man, the late night/early-morning commutes are absolutely gorgeous.

That said, lately there has been a little something in the air that has made my rides to and from work a little less than perfect.

Bugs.

Lots and lots of bugs.

I know bugs are part of the deal.

I recall summer rides in the country punctuated by the sound of grasshoppers getting Cuisinart-ed in my bike spokes. I’ve brushed bugs out of my teeth and fished ’em out of my eye. I’ve flicked them off my shirt and picked them out of my hair.

But this spring they seem to be out in unusually large numbers.

I noticed the lightning bugs first and thought they made an unusually early arrival this year.

Lately, though, I’ve been struck (quite literally) by the sheer volume of the winged little buggers.

The other night, I was headed home and was racing the arrival of a freak pop-up thunderstorm. I was climbing up a hill, standing, when I felt something on my right arm. The only light was the hole punched in the darkness by my headlight and the occasional flash of lightning. Since I was standing, I couldn’t take my arm off the bars to see what beastie had jumped on for a ride.

I rode on, and the tickle of bug bits on arm hair intensified, turning into the slow burn of an overactive imagination.

I half expected some nasty tropical-forest kind of flesh-eating monster bug to be illuminated by a flash of lightning, like a low-budget horror movie, just as it was about to plunge a serrated proboscis into my forearm.

(As it turns out, it was just some wispy winged thing that flew off just before I crested the hill).

On my most recent commute to work, my evening ride back after dinner, I thought I’d try to count how often I made like a windshield. As I craned my neck to watch an unusually large bat wheeling in the sky — no doubt enjoying the buggy bounty — I took a bug in the chops, right on the lower lip. A block later, one bounced off my cheek. Another pinged off my right eyelid. Another in the cheek. One in the forehead. I counted 15 insect encounters before losing interest.

I guess I shouldn’t complain. I’ve only ingested a couple of creepy-crawlies this spring, though I have become something of a connoisseur. I’m told all bugs are high in protein, and I find most to be largely tasteless, though lightning bugs have a most unpleasant chalky taste I recommend avoiding.

I’ve heard horror stories of cyclists nearly choking on large moths, or getting bees and wasps stuck in their helmets.

I’ve been stung while on the wheel before, but not on the noggin. And I once took a bug in the eye that, I swear, must have been taking huge chomps of eye flesh before shuffling off its mortal buggy coil. Yowee, that smarted.

Oh, well. It’s just another challenge to the intrepid bike commuter. Note to self: Keep mouth closed. I think I’m getting enough protein in my diet as it is. And for goodness sake, don’t chew gum on the bike, unless you want to save a little crunchy goodness for later in the evening.