Camping is one of my summer passions. I am always frustrated if at the end of the summer when we have only managed to camp a handful of times. This summer was certainly shaping up to be a less than abundant camping summer.
It occurred to me one day that we hadn't camped once this year and I knew that had to change. I talked it over with Max and Nikolai and decided we would go out to Prineville Reservoir. My plan was to load the canoe with camping gear, paddle to a sandy spot along the lake and camp for a night or two. So on a whim we did just that.
As we launched at the boat dock near the dam we were asked about our plans by a passing boat. I explained we really had none and they thought that was unusual but great.
Max had decided to man the front oar while I was in the rear. The canoe was heavy and Max likes to do everything in rapid fashion. Life is not fast enough for him but his paddling was too fast for me. We were zigzagging and getting nowhere fast. I enlisted Nikolai's help asking the two of them to exchange places. We were doing slightly better but I realized quickly that the main problem was both rowers were sitting backwards. I had allowed this because they complained there was not enough leg space. I could not take it anymore. I asked Nikolai to figure out how to sit the correct way and finally we were off at a good canoeing pace.
Canoeing is an art and you have to practice with patience. I have canoed with many people over the years. Big strong men like to paddle fast with maximum force. Women sometimes like to daintily place their paddle in the water and barely move any water. When it is done correctly it is beautiful to watch and experience. Rhythm is the key to canoeing. My sister and I have perfect rhythm and we glide through the water with ease. I have been molding my boys into expert canoers for eight years now. When they are alone together in the canoe they are in sync. Nikolai who is built more muscular takes the rear piloting seat while Max with his quick strokes takes the front. When I take over the rowing it throws the rhythm off immediately. Nikolai and I have an easier time regaining the proper strokes.
As we made our way down the lake, this lake that I have been visiting since I was a toddler, I was flooded with memories. This is my lake. I know this lake, each and every turn intimately. I know all of the sandy beaches, the twists and turns, where the water is colder, the most open spots for skiing, the rimrocks and their changing shapes and the best swimming holes. I look up and see the tall hill that overlooks what once was our place on the lake.
My sister was my constant companion on our visits to the lake. My Dad had loved this lake since he was young and decided to build a small cabin with two of his friends along its shores. It was our vacation spot. We would bring the boat over at the beginning of summer and leave it there until summer's end. It was the place I dug for bones under juniper trees, testing my hand at archaeology. It was the place where my sister skied and I kneeboarded. We would study the anthills that were just up from the flood plain. We caught frogs and raced them on the deck. Some were as small as bottle caps others several inches long. We endured countless sunburns in frying hot tents. We walked at night exploring the quieter side of the lake when the bats came out diving for bugs. Once a bat mistook our groups noise for the noise of bugs and dove at us tangling itself within my sister's hair before it quickly darted away. We played in the sand when we were younger and laid in it as we turned to teens. The lake saw every stage of our lives.
As we grew older our friends made their way to the lake with us. At first there were only girls but eventually the boys came along. With the boys came a whole new level of adventure. Rachelle always wanted to keep up with them and I watched and prayed a lot. One time two of our friends Todd and Jared decided to jump off some rocks, but not the ones everyone else jumps off of because those were too small. My sister agreed to join them and I drove the boat to pick them up scared to death as the fell several stories to the water.
These thousands of memories swarmed while I paddled. I first came back to Prineville to live in the lake house that my parents had purchased once we had grown out of the cabin. I walked along those shores that September filled with hope and inspiration. I never expected to stay so long.
We make camp at a small sandy shore. Our tent is placed close to the lake and on a slant. I explain to the boys that we will sleep with our legs downhill and be fine. We build our own fire pit. Then it happens, Nikolai spots a school of fish. My help is gone, they are busy putting together fishing poles and baiting the hook. Within minutes as I am still setting up sleeping bags they each have caught a fish. They caught at least ten that first day. They are each others constant companions in the summer and I secretly hope they will always remain close as my sister and I have. I pray they will nurture that relationship.
After camp was completely set up I wanted to go swimming. I kept trying to coax the boys into the water but they couldn't stop fishing. I swam alone far out into the lake. It was the middle of the week and there was very little boat traffic. I swam back and finally Nikolai joined me. Eventually Max would follow as well.
We ate fish that night along with the dinner we had planned. We played a game by the campfire and went to bed at dark.
The wind had begun to blow shortly before we went to bed but once we were in the tent it really kicked in. I was thankful the boys had thought to stake down the tent. It was loud as it barreled through the tent fly. Nikolai fell asleep quickly and deeply. Meanwhile Max and I tossed and turned and talked. Eventually we slept.
The next day was a repeat of the day before with the exception of one glorious canoe ride with Max and I at the helm. He finally understood rhythm and I felt blessed to be paddling with him. We were swift and quick in the water cutting through the glass quietly. It was a much needed beautiful moment with my twelve year old and I will hold close forever.
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