A good day for not doing what you're supposed to be doing.
Today was one of those days. You know the kind. One of those days just made for not doing what you are "supposed" to be doing, for not going where you are "supposed" to be going. A day just made for being on the water.
The only thing I can't quite figure out is how EVERYBODY else went to work, stayed at home, mowed the lawn, even?
Anyhow. This is how I spent much of yesterday.
Then, there was today:
See what I mean? Nobody else.
After I didn't finish the porch repairs, and after I didn't even start staining the back fence, and before I didn't order gravel to be laid on our entrance road, I was SUPPOSED to take a purpose-driven boat trip up Priest Lake. I was "supposed to" take more pictures of the various anchorages, beaches, and camp grounds we're gonna' use during the September movable messabout. Those pictures that I didn't take were supposed to be posted in the website. C'est la vie.
Don't get me completely wrong. I wasn't completely irresponsible. There was the matter of picking a launch ramp. The Pend Oreille River runs right past our town of Newport, WA. It connects the biggest lake in Idaho with the Columbia River system. But, there is the not so small matter of a bunch of dams here and there. And what with lots of white stuff still up in the mountains, and lots of late-spring rain, the powers that be have opened lots of gates along the way. The river is close, and pretty convenient for somebody like me, who is just sort of looking for a place to launch. Without a lot of driving, and without a lot of fanfare. But, it's still a real live river. And, some places are not quite so conducive solo-launching a skittish little pretend tugboat.
The first place I went, the current was simply rippin'. Looking down the steep ramp from way up at the top, things seemed pretty mellow.
And, EMPTY, of course. But, then I took a closer look and understood what all the absenteeism was about.
So, Shenanigan and I excused ourselves and moved a few miles up stream.
Less current, and still NO PEOPLE.
I called Kate and convinced her to stop doing what she was supposed to be doing and drive up to the top of the river and meet me for lunch. That gave me about a 20 nm jaunt each way. Mostly, just lazing along. Sometimes, running her up to 20 knots, or more. Absolutely no place to go, and all day to not get there, if the need should arise.
As it turns out, I was right on time, and Kate was a bit late. Didn't matter. The restaurant was closed. No people.
No boats, either. Except, for this rather conspicuous exception.
Conspicuous. But, nobody home aboard there, either.
Anyhow, next time you have a hankerin' to just drop what you are supposed to be doing, and just take your boat down and put her in the water; may you be just as lucky as I was today.
After all. Some things are just too good to share.