To answer the burning question of how many bugs I ate while at the tracking school the answer is zero. I was tracking, not surviving. In fact, I ate peanut butter-jelly sandwiches every day for lunch out in the field. I made them myself, they were delicious. Everytime we'd take a break from tracking, myself and Sergeant Beidler would look at each other and do the "peanut butter-jelly time dance".
Now I realize that this is going to lead me into another Marine Corps rant. Who paid for the sandwiches?? I did. Why? Because my unit was the only one represented at the school that did not provide its sent personnel with a per diem. Actually, we were also the only ones that did not have our transportation paid for in advance ("keep your gas receipts guys, you'll need those when you get back..."), and also the only ones that had to stay in the world's oldest barracks while everyone else was staying in town in a hotel. The Holiday Inn Express guys were obviously the better trackers. Ultimately, even with the out of pocket expenses, I would still take the school slot again. I joined the Marines to learn how to do crazy things, and this was my first real stab at something outside the box, even if I had to feed myself.