After seven days in the field we, at last, had a day off. We chose to spend it hiking to Stanton Lake in the Bob-Marshall Wilderness.
As the trees and shrubs parted to reveal the dark waters before us, the sweat of a steep climb evaporated. They evaporated in warm winds descending from a radiant sky whose clouds seemed adrift and content.
Our senses were distracted from the scenery only by the sounds of gravel and twig crunching underfoot.
Once the awe had subsided, we remembered our mission:- our solitary goal! To build a “boat..” or two…
The crew members divided themselves into two teams and, using chord and wit, began assembly of their ships. The first of which floated lazily in the shallows with its bulk measuring some thirty feet in length. The second vessel took the opposite approach; one could not have laid down on it if they had tried, and they did.
Immediately after the moment which was taken by the crew to appreciate their work, they set to racing along the shore. The finish line of this race had not been considered before the initiation. However, at the time this seemed unimportant. Sea shanties sung in poor harmony guided us better than any forethought could.
Once the first crew succumbed to fatigue, we all disembarked into the knee-deep, yet still frigid, waters and unleashed a victorious cry, winners and losers alike.