It was unseasonably warm. In another week, the Bitterroot River would be scouring its banks at peak flow, but for today its clear water was still gliding along at the pre-season low. And I had been dying to get on the river for nearly a year.
The arrival of out-of-town guests and a little sunshine was all it took to shake the cobwebs out of the kayaks and set out for an afternoon to see what we might find.
My brother-in-law was here from Alaska with a friend. At 75, he was a seasoned boater, but this would be his first time in a kayak. Not to worry, we wouldn’t be doing any rolls in the average two-foot depth of this waterway. There was a current, though, and so it was just a bit worrisome when he chose to leave both hearing aids in the truck for safe keeping. Continue reading