I was 46 miles from my motel room in the Eastern Sierra two summers ago when I realized I did not put on deodorant that morning.

It was the second week of July and I was headed for Bishop Pass at 11,972 feet. It was going to be a hot day and I knew I was going to sweat as much of the trail for the last two miles was still covered with snow.

That might sound like a non-worry but I assure you hiking uphill over snow that has been frozen and frozen again can leave you dripping.

I didn’t want to smell “ripe”, especially since the lower parts of the trail near a number of lakes is normally fairly heavily trafficked with other hikers.

I figured it was better to be safe than sorry so I decided to stop at a convenience market I had stopped at before at the Bishop Paiute Tribe reservation on the west side of Bishop.

To my dismay, they had only one deodorant brand — Axe.

It immediately conjured up a flashback when my grandson was in fifth grade at New Haven School.

I picked him up after school one day and was immediately overwhelmed by the odor when he climbed into the front seat.

I asked what he was wearing and he said Axe body spray.

I asked why he picked Axe.

His reply?

“The girls like it.”

Anyone who was around 18 years or so ago and watched a fair amount of TV probably saw an Axe commercial that basically pushed various scents as “chick magnets.”

The least ridiculous — which should give you an indication about how outlandish and borderline risqué although by today’s standards would be considered prudish other Axe commercials were — involved a teen boy spaying on Axe before heading to the library.

He walks past a girl studying. She sniffs the air and starts exaggerated flirting startling the boy.

Before Axe ends the commercial with a close up of their body spray, the girl waltzed over to the boy’s table, grabbed his phone, entered her number, and then patted her rear pocket where her phone was ringing and walked away.

Clearly Axe was sending a message that wasn’t even trying to be subliminal.

There were two Axe scents on the shelf at the convenience store that July morning.

I can’t recall their names but the one I went with that said it had a “woodsy” fragrance.

I figured it had to be better than body odor.

In hindsight, I should have gone without deodorant.

I made sure to apply the spray after I got to the trailhead and was prepping to head out

The second the spray hit my arm pit; I realized I’d smell more offensive than backpackers I had come across over the years who had been hiking the Pacific Crest trail sans deodorant for a week.

I debated for a good minute before deciding to apply Axe to my other under arm.

I figured since I was going to reek of Axe from my left side, I might as well not perspire heavily on my right side given it was supposed to a reach 80 degrees at the location I was starting from.

Besides, it would be more effective at making bears keep their distance than good old-fashioned bear spray.

If you’ve ever had the displeasure of being in the vicinity of someone accidentally discharging bear spray, that should give you an idea of how rancid the Axe scent was.

Over the years I’ve come across younger males (they seem to range from pee-teen to almost 25), who overdo it on body spray and/or scented deodorant. And their favorite brand, according to research, is Axe.

Occasionally, it was in a place like a convenience store, but most of the time it was in a gym.

Once a guy who was lifting weights next to someone who seemingly emptied a whole can of deodorant into his arm pit asked why he used so much.

The answer: He didn’t want to smell.

Up until a few years ago, my choice of deodorants was Arrid XX Dry unscented.

One morning as I entered a 6 a.m. aerobics class after jogging to InShape, a woman wanted to know what body spray I was wearing as she thought it smelled good.

I looked at her as if she was daft, and said it was unscented deodorant.

She replied it still smelled good.

A regular who overheard, told me I was brain dead.

What I took from the short exchange was that I was probably using too much deodorant.

For the record — as if it matters — I currently use Right Guard Sports Edition given Target in its infinite wisdom had decided to stop carrying Arrid products.

What brings this up is the recently launched campaign by Unilever — the folks that produce and market Axe —  that they dub “The History of Overdoing It.”

Apparently, someone at Unilever decided to finally do something about what some call “the Axe cloud” and more than a few detractors have labeled “a chemical weapon.”

One advertisement decla res “women don’t want to see your fish,” referring to the trope of fish they’ve caught in dating app profiles. “Try something more subtle.

That “something more subtle” Unilever is rolling out features a new spray mechanism that “delivers a “lighter, more controlled application.”

Here comes the kicker.

That new mechanism is now in bottles that are 2.9 ounces compared to the previous 4 ounces.

Axe says it really isn’t giving buyers less product given if they stick to one “squirt” per application they can expect roughly 10 percent more sprays.

If that logic stinks to high heaven, it is because it looks and smells like a take on shrinking the product and keeping the same price.

Unilever can protest that it has everything to do with a new spray mechanism that provides users with the correct dosage, so to speak, per application.

But they can’t escape the fact it took them 24 years to do something about it until they were caught in a cost squeeze in terms of production and profits.

Complaints about guys overdoing it when applying Axe started surfacing after it hit markets in the United States in 2002.

And if human nature is any indication, teens and young men will continue to over apply Axe on the assumption the more the better.

And Axe, in terms of sales, will come up smelling like roses while many users will continue to make enclosed spaces smell like a Reno casino in the 1960s that hadn’t been deep cleaned since Truman was president.

This column is the opinion of editor, Dennis Wyatt, and does not necessarily represent the opinions of The Bulletin or 209 Multimedia. He can be reached at dwyatt@mantecabulletin.com