Here's a short photo essay of my week at Forked Lake. Did I even get out my sketchbook? Oh nooooo...but I had a great time hanging out with some of my dearest friends, cooking over the fire, appreciating some solitude, getting a great tan, and reading a slightly cheesy novel. I spent a lot of time on the dock. All was peaceful except for the short-lived but drenching storm that blew down the lake and directly into our main site...we were clinging to tent poles and watching everything go to wrack and ruin around the picnic table. But the sun came out the next day and everything recovered. This was a good break in the summer, and now August looks busy.
Let me introduce you to my canoe. Her name is the Nutmeg of Consolation, with a nod to my literary hero Patrick O'Brian, and she's a 12 foot Old Town solo canoe. Glides beautifully and responsively through the water, and weighs all of about 33 pounds soaking wet. Easy for me to load on my car and lift out of the water. On this trip I had a pirate flag in the stern, and I enjoyed yelling things like "ahoy mateys" and "avast ye scurvey dogs" at my tolerant friends. I also figured out the mysterious circular stroke where you never lift the paddle out of the water.
2 comments:
I think the more powerful "avast, ye scurvy corporate swabs", has more effect on dubious comrades.
oh such pretty lakes! How were the bugs?
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