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Picture of the Day

June 21, 2016


It was sure a swell treat to join Hoyt & Heidi on a boat trip to Blake Island. Beachfront campsites are on the west side with a fine view of rampant development in the foothills of Olympics; walk a couple hundred yards around the point and see Seattle skyline, still in sight of civilization yet it feels so far away, maybe because only access is by sea, but that shouldn't be too hard if paddling over from nearby. A SUP would do, especially if you time the tide and wind right. I'm on a sobriety kick so didn't pack beers or booze as I normally would, and neither did Sarah, and neither did Heidi, but Hoyt had just enough for himself and that was fine but as we sat there in silent sunshine beside the water I decided if possible I would have a beer. But none were available. Until a little while later Heidi remembered some leftovers in the hold of the boat. I wasn't sure I wanted one anymore but Sarah said she'd have one so I volunteered to fetch them by the only means available: a kneel-upon orange tube propelled by a single paddle. There's a reason they make boats pointy. It was easy to set oneself spinning and forward progress was awkward and slow. To make matters worse, I put in from too far away, thinking incorrectly the current or breeze would drift me in. As the sun set I wondered what it would be like to be swept away, the water too cold for swimming a long distance. How embarrassing that would be. I made it by and by, leaving Hoyt time to shoot this perfect picture, tied on firmly to the stern of 19' Chapparal, unsnapped the canvas, slipped under and crawled forward in the dark, pried the bow seat up and dug out six cans of IPA. I fit three in pockets of board shorts, nestled the other 3 between my knees on the trampoline of the tube, paddled furiously to shore, a much quicker straight line trip this time. The fire was going, potatoes roasting, a perfect time for a beer and I'd earned it but the craving had passed so I didn't.