Why hasn’t anyone invented this yet: The mosquito-proof face mask for cyclists

​The mountain bike industry is a fascinating phenomenon. We’re talking about an industry that’s brimming with ingenuity when it comes to solving problems that nobody actually had. Vast amounts of money and brainpower have been squandered throughout history in an attempt to annoy humanity with ill-conceived designs. People developed frames made of injection-moulded carbon that were as strong as Karlovy Vary wafers, pneumatic gear systems that ran out of air, and dual-control shifters that would accidentally shift up three gears when braking on a steep downhill. In short: there was money for every conceivable brain fart.

But when it comes to a genuine, existential problem facing humanity? Collective silence in the developers’ world.

My problem awaits me every evening after work, right on time between 7 and 8 pm. I hop on my bike, set off full of anticipation towards the Isartrails – and, in a fraction of a second, transform from a peace-loving vegetarian into an involuntary meat-eater.

The problem is anatomical: I’m a terrible nasal breather. Adenoids, you know. My wife already regularly moves into the guest room because of my night-time snoring. As she was leaving the room recently, she muttered exasperatedly that I didn’t need to see the adenoids specialist at all – a visit to the ‘nose hairdresser’ would be enough. But that’s just by the way.

The fact is: on the trail, I breathe through my mouth. Wide open.

So, right there, on the idyllic banks of the Isar, they’re already waiting for me: the curtains of horror. Clouds of myriads of tiny mosquitoes. These beasts aren’t after my blood at all. They have no urge to bite or suck. I could even understand that. But these Isar midges just want to fly straight into my mouth. It’s a scientific paradox: when I go midge-hunting in my bedroom at night with my BIKE rolled up, these beasts perform evasive manoeuvres like a fighter jet in a low-altitude flight. But on the cycle path? Zero flight instinct. They collectively throw themselves into my open maw as if they were tired of their already short lives.

Dear developers in the cycling industry, let’s be honest: you’re making high-tech membranes that keep torrential downpours out, but let the tiniest sweat molecules escape. So why on earth hasn’t anyone invented a mouth-mounted mosquito net yet? A screen for your mouth that lets oxygen in but keeps the swarm of flies out! You could make a fortune with that!

Until then, I suppose I’ve only got one option: I’ll hop on my e-bike for my next ride, crank up the power and dial down my oxygen consumption – and hope that the airflow blows enough oxygen through my freshly trimmed nasal passages.