Wall Street Journal Uncovers Grosse Pointe's Dirty Little Secrets
This time of year, life in the part of Michigan known as Grosse Pointe is, well, pretty gross.
That's how the Wall Street Journal begins its story today about fish flies.
Every year at the beginning of summer, the five tony communities that share the Grosse Pointe name and their neighbors along Lake St. Clair are invaded by millions of inch-long fish flies that live only about two days and then die—coating roads, sidewalks, yachts and cars in blankets of lifeless, crunchy bugs.
The worst part: The flies have little do to with fish. The name refers to the smell all those rotting bugs give off.
This year's crop of fish flies—known as mayflies elsewhere—seems to have been magnified, locals say. At the many marinas along the lake, boats are covered with the bugs. Owners take dust bins and shovel out inch-deep piles of carcasses from their vessels. On the water at night, the flies get so thick it is difficult to see.