A friend from Creston, with whom we have shared many adventures, was visiting. However, the usual day-long hike for her and me was not an option this time, since I am still impatiently awaiting hip replacement surgery. Fortunately, many alternatives abound.
Our morning walk, accompanied by a few mosquitoes and rain drops, took us along the more or less level route beside Dutch Lake (beautiful in any weather) to connect this gal up with a local buddy. “I like my friends to meet my friends,” I commented when I finally managed to get a word in!
The sky was brightening as we returned, prompting this suggestion: “Would you like to canoe on Dutch Lake?” The enthusiastic “Yes” sent us into Dutch Lake Resort to see if they rented to locals. A craft was available, and the cost more appealing than the struggle needed to get mine down from the rafters in its shed. Collecting paddles and donning life jackets, we went onto the dock and, of course, chose the red one. “We’re both bow paddlers,” I remembered.
“You’re in the back,” my friend insisted. No worries – the lake was calm and I would steer us out of the water lilies if she kept us from running into logs.
Stepping down into the canoe was the biggest challenge. Fortunately our trials were observed by a family coming onto the dock. The gentleman offered his strong grip to steady our rocking canoe as, one at a time, each placed a foot carefully above the keel, and followed it up with the second foot and the rest of our creaking bodies. It’s my guess that our kind helper expected much more entertainment than he got after this inauspicious beginning. But my friend and I have lots of canoe trips to our credit including the Bowron Lakes as leaders of a Girl Guide adventure, and a five-day camping/canoeing trip with other Guiders on Murtle Lake in 2006. The techniques were still there and off we paddled. However, soon after we had manoeuvred around the dock and swimmers, the skies opened! It didn’t matter; life jackets kept our backs dry and the rain, though heavy, was short-lived.
From then on, it was pure bliss. We went as close as we could to the multi-coloured water lilies, remarking on the lovely variety of hues. The lake’s surface, no longer splattered by rain drops, offered perfect reflections of these beauties, with the trees, shrubs (and even blue sky) pointing downwards beside us.
Heading towards yet another garden of water lilies, a chocolate brown “duckie thing” caught our attention. Suddenly one loon, then another, popped up beside it. The young-un was starting to grow a white “bib”, but presumably was still too young to dive. We hoped it was large enough, and its parents brave enough, to fend off any low-flying eagles. We left this happy family unit but soon saw another. This mother had seven or eight tiny ducklings in tow. We drifted and spoke quietly as she led them through the flowers close to shore, on and off handy logs – aware of us, but not afraid. Later at home we flipped pages in bird books but could not identify her. The stance on shore suggested a “tree duck”. Hidden birds serenaded us from the trees surrounding us and three sandpipers “danced” on a dock.
Our zigzag route was intentional, taking us from one patch of colour to another.
A few knots on floating logs turned into turtles, but we did not see many. We felt totally welcomed and part of nature as we completed our circuit around the perimeter of Clearwater’s perfect jewel – Dutch Lake.
