Monday, August 2, 2021

North Cascades by Camper Van, Part Three - Wading in Waist-High Water

We spent the next two nights at two different campgrounds on Baker Lake, Swift Creek and Horseshoe Cove. 

On the way to Baker Lake, Mt. Baker stood tall in the background, and we saw a bear scoot across the road. 


It didn't take us long to get down to the lake, despite -- or, perhaps, because of -- the promise of cold water (Elise would even do a swim workout the following morning). Sam found a log and like Natty Bumppo rowed himself out into the middle of the lake. He would repeat repeat feat, too, the next day, only that time with his fishing pole in tow. The wind would keep him away from shore until it was time to go; he would have to abandon log, as it were, and swim one armed back to the beach. 

As the afternoon wore on, the shadow of the ridge slowly climbed the bluff. As amazing a sight as it is, you know it happens every night, and is no less amazing in any other night.  The branches of the birch trees keep a tenuous hold on the leaves. They flutter like eyelids, exposing the lighter underbellies of the leaves. 


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