Paddling the Slough and Beyond

 

Bill and I have been paddling our kayaks for two years now. 

Yesterday he was estimating that he'd gone kayaking eight times so far this year. 

I figured my count was about the same or maybe one trip fewer than Bill's.  

This year, we've both gone on  trips without the other. 

Most of the times, though, my "Blue" and his green fishing kayak have slid into the same spots in the pickup bed to be secured with bungie cords for trips to pretty paddling areas.  

We're getting a system established for launching. 

 Both of us have learned that standing in a little deeper water at the launching pad from a sideways angel is best for taking careful aim and flopping down onto the seat.

For exiting, we add a silent prayer that our legs will stand up and that the low center of gravity area our body aka butt will rise up out of the boat. 

So far so good.

While calculating our kayaking trip count yesterday on the way back from Denton Slough, we were proud that we had even added a new state, with our Montana Spar Lake adventure earlier this week. 

Yesterday's outing involved for us yet another new launching site just past Hope and just before the Clark Fork drift yard where we've set off on a few other kayaking adventures. 

Bill suggested that sometime we should launch from Sam Owen campground so we can paddle along where David Thompson hung out in 1809 and where we look at all the magnificent structures that dot the shoreline more than 200 years after Thompson built his Kullyspell House fur trading center. 

Anywho, yesterday's Denton Slough outing offered the opportunity to see some Native American petroglyphs, but since it was our first trip, we simply paddled and enjoyed the general sites that could be seen in spite of forest-fire smoke minimizing normally magnificent views of the Green Monarch mountains and the channel down the lake.

Paddling near the shoreline reaped some neat sights, including both the high-rent and low-priced housing projects. 

We saw wildflowers and neat driftwood, along with what I'm guessing were loons (bird aficionados, help me), appearing in all their elegant splendor, sounding off in their unique loon language and suddenly completely disappearing beneath the water surface.

Update:  Western Grebe 

We watched two long trains pass through from afar, and we saw three or four groups of kayakers enjoying their individual water adventures. 

Bill also caught a large-mouth bass with his fly rod.  He estimated that it might have been a two or three pounder. 

So many times this summer while kayaking, I've sat back, giving the paddles and my arms a rest.  

While drifting along and dangling my foot over one side of the kayak, I've also thought about Mark Twain's classic Huckleberry Finn, where Huck and Jim embrace the sense of freedom offered by the Mississippi River and their home away from any home on the raft.

While on that raft, the two were free of all the frustrations and worries of the world, including Huck's domineering aunt and Jim's fear of enslavement.

Floating along in serene, quiet waters off shore,  away from daily concerns and, yes, even in smoky air offers a relaxing sense of peace as well as a fresh perspectives, both visual and mental. 

Next time we set off from Denton Slough, we'll make a point of finding those petroglyphs.  After all, when you've lived a lifetime in this area and still haven't seen them, it's probably time.   

Today marks the end---we hope---of the heat.  Our kayaking adventures could also take a break. 

 I think we're all ready for a week's worth of cool temperatures and hopeful that we've seen the last of intense heat waves of 2021. 

Our iphones show varying percentages of rain on Tuesday along with temps dipping down into the high 60s.  

It will be nice and a major, much-needed relief. 

Happy Sunday.