Tuesday, June 06, 2023

Paddling Pend Oreille and Remembering Tiny


I was halfway through my chicken Caesar wrap and watching the news when Bill asked, "Do you want to go kayaking tonight?"


"Well, give me 30 seconds to think about it," I responded. 

I allowed myself time to finish the whole wrap before saying okay. 

Talk about spontaneous evening plans and the first kayak trip of the year for me on top of it. 

Bill has already gone a couple of times, but I had to recharge my brain and think about all the items to gather and where my summer capris might be. 

Well, it all worked out and fairly smoothly too. 

Within 45 minutes or so, we had pulled into the parking lot of the Army Corps of Engineers recreation center at Trestle Creek.

A few minutes later, we were paddling around Lake Pend Oreille.  I with my camera and Bill with his rod, settling in for a short summer's trip along the lakeshore. 

It was divine, to say the least.  Some other people came with a jet boat but couldn't seem to get it to fire up on all cylinders at the launching site.  

Off to the south, a lone sailboat slowly made its way from west to east during the time we were on the lake. 

Otherwise, twas just the two of us and our boats. 

Bill yelled "fish on!" once but quickly announced it had escaped. 

I enjoyed paddling close to shore, looking for wildflowers and at one time watching an osprey talk and then take off. 

When we returned to the launch, a nice couple staying here for the summer were kind enough not to appear on the scene until AFTER I had figured out how to get out of my kayak. 

Seems every year of kayaking does not guarantee perfection when each new year of life presents new bodily obstacles and new strategies for avoiding disaster. 

So, it was nice to be up and walking out of the water when those folks showed up.  

Twas pleasant spontaneity, to say the least. 

That's how it rolls around here.  We have our plans and then we don't have our plans.  Often the latter turn out to be more fun when we suddenly launch into motion. 

A great summer evening and truly an enticement for more time spent on our beautiful lake as the summer rolls on. 

Check out the horse history feature below, and Happy Tuesday. 

It was D-Day on this day in 1944.  

Nearly 20 years later on June 6, 1963, it was the birth of my very first horse. 

Mother, my sisters and I were in Michigan at my Aunt Louise's house near Kalamazoo.  We had driven there to meet my brother Mike after he had completed his first year at West Point. 

My dad Harold was home taking care of the North Boyer farm when he got up that morning, went to the barnyard and saw a tiny foal in the barnyard. Seems to me she may have been already up and trying to climb the manure pile. 

Somehow the name "Tiny" stuck, even though her registered name was Gay Warena. She never would have survived in present-day Florida. 

 Her mother was Adare's Countess Largo; her father was Waraff, an Arabian stallion owned by our friends the Balches. 

I took Tiny in 4-H and actually won a trophy with her by default my last year while competing in showmanship.  My main competition's horse bit her finger either off or nearly off when she fed it a cookie during the noon break. 

So, she went to the doctor and did not return for the championship class. I'm sure if the finger incident hadn't happened, I would not have won the trophy. 

I was a young adult when my folks told me Tiny would be my horse.  

Over the years, other kids, including my sister, took Tiny in 4-H.  I think Laurie even rode her in an English class. 

Tiny was a good all-around, low key and slightly lazy horse, and my own kids got some enjoyment from her too. 

Tiny and I went on trail rides, including a competitive trail ride up in Gold Creek at the Wood Ranch.  I rode her when my friend Peggy and I went on the overnight Pend Oreille Trail Ride, coordinated by the Litehouse Hawkins family. 

I also rode her with Gold n'Grouse 4-H members when we traveled over the hills into Boulder Meadows and camped there for the night. 

On the way out, we encountered some snow on a steep grade where we had to pass over. I had no idea how Tiny and I were going to get up and over that mountain. 

But Leonard Wood--then a teenager--knew.  

He told me to get off, wrap her reins over her neck, get behind her, hold on to her tail and then urge her up the mountain.  It worked.

I've never forgotten that lesson, but happily have never needed to use it again. 

Anyway, Tiny was a great first horse.  I loved her chocolate color and her calm demeanor.

So, 60 years later, on this day, I say Happy Birthday, Tiny.  I miss you.   

My sister Laurie is showing Tiny in the photo above.  My sister Barbara is showing Omar, Tiny's half brother.  Both were young 4-H'ers when the show was still held at the old fairgrounds (now Lakeview Park). 

 Yes, that's the "some day Dr. Love" riding her at our farm on Great Northern Road.  

I saw the article below in today's Daily Bee. For those who don't get the paper, the story tells about a neat event scheduled this week and centered around Pine Street Woods. 

I think Bill is leading a tour of the woods on Friday as part of the event.


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