Sunday Morning

It was Saturday evening. We'd spent the full day canoeing on the lake as a family, staying at a friend's place. The kid's had caught fish on top with a bug that had a green body and gray wings. When that had not worked, the peacock dropper did the job as well. It had been a beautiful day. In the evening, my friend Max called from Salt Lake. He's been selling bikes for a local shop this summer and missing the Montana floats.

"I've been looking at the pictures." He said. We chatted about the recent bull trout episode and my subsequent evening trip to the Bitterroot mountains. "It's been a while, but I've skied St. Marys. We messed up finding the road coming out." The native Bitterrooter continued, "Are you still coming down?" "I'm not sure, Max. School is about to start, and one wants to do a camping and floating excursion and the other wants to head back to Cayuse before the summer is over." I said. "Besides, this has not exactly been a good year for me on the bike. At some point shortly, I'll let you know." I continued. Hearing from Max, however, always puts the wind back in my sails.

Sunday morning I got up early. There was a light mist on the lake. I wanted to beat the motor boats, water skiers and routine lake racket. It was calm and peacefully quiet. No one was up other than one float tuber, pitching patterns to sipping rainbows.
Solo canoeing is wonderful. However, I wished I had gotten my daughter up to paddle along given the wildlife that I observed. The journey was about a four and a half mile loop and I initially started with loons and their little ones. Then a large gathering of geese, which left their feathers along the route. Eventually, I noted from the distance what I thought to be a small island. When I got closer, however, I saw ears. Then, it moved.

She did not seem to mind me. We hung out together (from a distance) and got to know one another. Then, after a few photos, I let her continue dunking her head to reach her breakfast, and I continued on the loop.

Things wrapped up with three herons. This one allowed me to sneak in a quick photo. While fishing the night prior, I watched an osprey lose its grip on a large rainbow, sending it crashing down to the lake below right before my eyes. This had been a fine weekend.