This is just terrible.

It rained in Tucson last night. An amount that makes it really hard to tell if it's worth driving down there.

I'm feeling pretty much exhausted, and am going back to sleep instead. I really hope I don't regret this. Ugh.

I HAVE ANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well. Last night, I apparently failed to set my alarm. I had thought I would get up to go on an extremely early bike ride. Instead, I suddenly awoke at 5 am and realized my alarm had never gone off. Storms had been brewing on the horizon last night, so I sleepily plugged in the borrowed laptop to check the rainfall patterns in Tucson.

The rainfall and weather patterns were ambiguous--some spots were reporting more than enough rain, while other patches were just slightly under the inch required to trigger mating flights. I had just about decided that it wasn't worth it to go down to Tucson when I remembered to check the morning's weather--swarms tend to form when it stays overcast the following morning. That added enough uncertainty that I started to consider going down to Tucson. The clincher was when I asked myself that critical question that usually gets me up and out of bed for rowing when I'm just not quite motivated: "Will I regret this later?" The answer was yes. So I got up, threw on some clothes, and was on the road to Tucson 30 minutes later.

There's beginning to be a pattern to these Tucson expeditions. I drive down to Ina Road, and then slowly creep along, looking for swarms. I got there a touch on the late side of things (8:00), and when I rolled down the window, it just didn't feel quite humid enough, although it was certainly cool enough. No swarms. I kept going, and figured that if all else failed, I would check the handful of spots where I've had success in the past, to see if there were any signs of activity. Finally, I drove up to a spot near DW's house, and walked along the roadway where I collected that very first batch from the huge swarm (north of intersection of Sunrise and Swan). I spotted one male and two queens, and then headed back to the truck to get some tubes. Two queens isn't nearly enough, but I can't help myself: if I see them, I must collect them. Then, surprisingly, D herself drove up--she had spotted someone in that distinctive "ant-hunting" posture, noted the truck, and put two and two together. [As I was walking around, I was kicking myself for not having e-mailed her sooner to let her know that I might show up in her yard this summer--I think she would have handled my intrusion with equanimity, but still. Anyway, she's been hunting Camponotus festinatus, so she was also on High Ant Alert.

Shortly after that, I managed to lock the truck keys in the truck (I blame sleep deprivation/general exhaustion/excitement), along with my cell phone and wallet. Classic. I had been waiting for my Tucson vehicle problem to crop up, and there it was. It made me realize that I hardly know anybody's phone number--in the very least, I know my advisor's number. Fortunately, when I walked up the road a little ways, I found someone who was able to loan me a coat hanger, and managed to unlatch the door using a method that my uncle F and cousin J taught me (no damage done to anything, woohoo!). After that, I was able to locate the main site of a small swarm (mostly left-over males huddling in any cracks they could find), and found a bunch of queens starting to dig new nests underneath a couple of trees.

So I came back to Tempe with a collection of 75 queens, the exact number that I figure I need to have enough for experiments next spring. Unless something catastrophic happens to them, that means I'm DONE with this ant-collecting nonsense for the summer. HOORAY!

Now I am tempted to prolong my stay in Seattle. Very, very tempted.