Corn Stalks and Petroglyphs

 

Two consecutive days of kayaking at opposite ends of Lake Pend Oreille on a fabulous weekend in North Idaho:  doesn't get any better than that.

And, for our horses, three big bunches of corn stalks, carefully bundled by my friend Tom:  for the horses it doesn't get any better than that. 

There'll be an abundance of good eatin' for the horses and there are great memories for us. 

I learned about Tom's annual gift of corn stalks Saturday while paddling on the lake.  

So, yesterday morning's main project involved picking them up and leaving the reciprocal jar of plum jelly on Tom and Joanne's deck. 

They weren't home, so I put the jar on the deck and snapped a few photos of Joanne's colorful and beautifully planned summer flower show. 

With that project completed, it was time to do a few other chores and get ready for the afternoon kayaking trip.  

This time our longtime, great friend Becky Reynolds joined us.  

We actually had a mission in mind. Becky had offered to show us the Native American petroglyphs which have been on a rock slab for many many more years than I've been around. 

Having lived in the area for 74 years and to have never seen the petroglyphs that I'd heard about off and on over my lifetime, it was time to mark that experience off the bucket list. 

And, so we did. 

Along the way, we invaded the campsite where some folks had spent the night.  They were very nice, and I recognized some of them.  

We talked for a few minutes and then went on our way to see the distinct rock carvings created along the lake shore so many eons ago. 

I'd seen pictures but actually standing and studying the real thing was well worth the careful steps we took to get there on a rocky trail in our flimsy footgear.

Amazing and definitely a site that inspires one to learn more about their history. 

On our way back to the kayaks, we once again walked through the campsite where I learned that the lone adolescent had told the rest of the party that his dad had had me for a teacher. 

Again, an amazing moment because just moments before I had shared some information I'd learned about the petroglyphs from this young man's great-grandmother to Becky. 

A small world moment, indeed.  Yes, I did teach this young man's dad and his grandmother. His great-grandmother Jean has been a family friend forever.

What a treat it was to meet Mike's son and now to know FOUR generations of the same family. 

Jean, once again, I must say, you have reason to be proud. Connor is a very nice young man. 

Soon thereafter we were back out on the lake, where Bill's fishing rod went to work catching bass while Becky and I leisurely paddled and chatted.  

Eventually, we turned around and came back and hung out where Bill was catching those fish and happily yakked about respective old times, some while working with the forest service but mostly about fishing. 

After all, Becky's late husband Boots was a seasoned angler----so much so that I once wrote a story for Sandpoint Magazine about him and famous humorist Patrick McManus entitled:  Fish, Fact and Fiction

An ichthyology seminar with Patrick F. McManus and Boots Reynolds, the "mouths" of the Clark Fork River.

Our afternoon on the lake turned out to be another great success with both reminiscing about slices from our own histories and seeing a tangible and artful example of our area's past. 

Safe to say that a good time was had by all. 

Happy Monday.