Twoyaking: The act of paddling with one regular sized person and one smaller person (preferably the larger persons child) in a one person boat.

It is not exactly the easiest thing to do; taking photos from the kayak – made harder still with the addition of a 10 year old to the small boat. The missed shots mean nothing though, when compared to the time we’ve been having paddling about together. If you have the chance to cruise around in a kayak with your kid, I strongly recommend it especially if there’s the possible inclusion of beavers.

This was our second adventure of this type, each has been exceptional. I’m having a hard time thinking of a better way to spend time with my 10 year old daughter. Our trips about in the van are fun but the van is large and often the sights to see along the road fail to be more interesting than the iPhone or the tablet she carries. She will engage for a while and she especially likes to help me steer the car or hop in my lap and drive for a bit. We dont have the challenges with the boat, there simply isn’t room for anything else in there and our close proximity to each other lends itself well to the necessity of whispering and quiet to see the critters.
Last nights adventure found us in the marshy inlet waters of Jenny Gulch. I love it back there and paddle back that way often but this time the water was high enough that we could actually get back into shallow waters that are bursting with new life right now. We saw nearly a dozen blue herons all perched atop various pine trees, a couple beavers, a family of merganser and lots more.

The clock was ticking by way too slowly for such a perfect spring Friday afternoon. I got a Facebook message from a dear  friend informing me that he and his family were in town for the weekend and wanted to get together. I told him that I had made plans to join some friends who were planning to camp at Center Lake in Custer State Park. They were eager to join the party and even offered to swoop me and Anna up and give us a ride. It was wonderful to see them again and catch up. Since our last encounter they had welcomed their son (2 and a half) into their lives. He was pure delight and I was so pleased to get to spend the time with them. We all enjoyed a walk on the tiny beach, the kids played in the sand and Anna even decided she was brave enough to go for a little swim, a decision she regretted later when she realized she had to hang out in the rapidly chilling air with wet clothes.

The light faded quickly and I decided to try out some long exposure shots around the campsite. We grilled up some tasty camp food,wished the campers a dry evening and then headed back to town. We followed an impressive thunderstorm into town but never found ourselves in its path.

The next morning, my buddy Nick picked me up, we tossed our kayaks on top of his jeep and hit the road. We drove south to Angostura, not my favorite lake but I’ve had my eye on a paddling spot there for a few years and was anxious for the chance to finally explore it.  The area is a shallow marshy area near Shep’s Canyon on the west side of the lake. As we unloaded our boats I was quick to notice some large big white birds catching some sun on a sandbar to the left. I thought instantly that they might be pelicans and couldn’t wait for Nick to get his gear all packed to verify my hunch… I set out and was delighted to be proven correct.

The American White Pelican to be exact. I believe they were migrating through on their way to breed to the east.

Cornell Lab of Ornithology says:
American White Pelican breeds mainly on isolated islands in freshwater lakes, forages on inland marshes, lakes, or rivers, favoring shallows. Islands used for breeding are often 30 or more miles from foraging areas. During the non-breeding season, American White Pelicans favor shallow coastal bays, inlets, and estuaries. [source]

The big, goofy, awkward birds hung out long enough for me to shoot some nice photos before they eventually determined that I was close enough and floated away. However, I was able to follow and observe them for about a mile or so from a distance. I enjoyed the shallow, marshy, swampy area I had wanted to explore for so long.  It had a creepiness that was kind of fun, lots of old dead fallen dead trees to navigate around that the turtles seemed to find quite conducive to sunbathing. Angostura is a large lake, full of fast boats and murky water, but it was nice to find a quiet place out of reach of the speed boats. There was a ton of wild life that agreed and had decided to call that area home.

After a couple hours of watching and paddling, we decided to pack up the boats, grab a sandwich and head into Custer State Park to Bismark Lake. While we drove north through Wind Cave National Park I jokingly said to Nick, “I would like to see some Elk. Can you make that happen?” Always eager to please, Nick drove us around a corner and I exclaimed “ELK!”. We didn’t have much time and the light wasn’t great so I wasn’t able to get a good photo but I gave it a try and I was grateful for the opportunity to see the majestic animals before continuing onward to our next destination. Surprisingly, I had never been there before and, I have to say, I am amazed it has taken me this long to discover this magnificent place.

As we unpacked our boats I noticed the faint rumbles of thunder from far in the distance and decided it was far enough away to proceed with our plans to paddle. I decided to leave my camera in the car, though, because my battery was about to die and should it happen to rain, I didn’t want to be stuck on the lake with the camera. Want to guess how long it took me to regret that decision?

I rounded a corner and instantly spotted a large nest on the other side of the lake. It was only moments later I was able to identify its inhabitants… Osprey. I continued to paddle around the lake, the whole time having a dialog with myself about why my decision to leave the camera in the car was the right one and how I could always come back for a better shot of the birds… bla bla bla. The whole time my previous osprey fail was ringing clearly through my head.  Then I watched one of the osprey defend the nest from a hovering turkey vulture and I decided I simply couldn’t take it anymore, I turned my boat around and paddled full speed back to the car. I quickly paddled past Nick to fetch his keys. We had a brief conversation and decided there was zero chance of rain. That was enough to convince me that I had made the right choice. I packed the camera in my water proof compartment and set back out across the lake.

I reached the other side and climbed up onto a very excellently placed granite rock and had JUST set up my camera when I noticed that the thunder was rolling at a much more consistent tempo… and then I noticed a drop or two of rain… and then I heard the sound of lots of drops of rain… at that point, I knew it was time to pack up and get to shelter. There was an entire lake between me and the vehicle, and while I may not be smart enough not to get caught out in a rain storm, I am smart enough to know that the last place you want to be in an electrical storm is in a boat on a lake. I looked around quickly, spied a nice rock overhang and hunkered down. I sheltered my camera with my body and tucked my shoes and over-shirt in as far behind me as I could.

I waited out the storm and Facebooked a little, called Nick to let him know I was alright (he had made it safely back to his car). I texted my mom, and laughed at myself a little. The rain and thunder were soon joined by some pea sized hail. Eventually the downpour slowed to a drizzle and I was able to crawl out from my hole and back onto my osprey-watching perch. I sent Nick a text and  said “I’m going to sit up here and photograph these ospreys until my battery dies!”  He replied “I want to catch some fish! I’ll meet you on the lake.”  I was able to get some really nice shots of the raptors coming and going from the nest and even a little video of the male calling to the female after she flew off to dry her wings. The sun began to peek out and warm the rocks and a perfect mist began to rise off the granite and the lake as if it were eager to become clouds again.  I headed back down to my boat, which I had stupidly left open side up. That didn’t stop me from enjoying my float (all be it a bit soggy) back around the lake.

I met up with Nick mid-lake and he was bound and determined to catch a fish so we paddled around the lake for another half an hour or so while he attempted to snag one. He never did hook one though but I did witness one more oddity. I had noticed patches of disturbed water on the perfectly still lake. It seemed like there was something just below the surface that was churning up bubbles. At first, I thought it might be beavers. I had seen several tell-tale signs of their inhabitants around the lake and wanted, so desperately to see one. It seemed every time my back was turned you could hear a loud splash, but each time I turned to catch a glimpse of what the noise maker was it was too late. I pointed out the churning pockets of water to Nick and he slowly floated toward one. We both watched in amazement as dozens of tiny fish jumped from within the disturbance at the same time and splashed back into the water. I wasn’t able to get a good look to identify what kind of  fish they were; there was a good handful of them per school and they were able to disperse pretty quickly and almost disappear when you approached them.

The temperature was dropping quickly and my tollerance of soggy shorts was growing thin. Signs of the next storm started to rumble from the same direction and we decided it was time to head home before it got too late.

We threaded the needle between two dark and ominous storms on the way home.  I was shocked when I looked at my clock and it said it was 7:59. The time had flown but only because it was all so fun. I big thanks to Nick for spending the day with me! It was truly awesome!

I’m not sure it’s possible to have a better weekend. Aside from it being Mother’s Day weekend, and having a delightfully wonderful daughter and pretty much the best mom on the planet, I also was able to sneak in a hike and wrapped up the weekend with something so unexpectedly amazing I sincerely questioned whether or not I was awake or dreaming.

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Anna (my daughter) and I kicked off the weekend with another evening drive out east of town. It was a pretty typical drive, but it did afford us a shower in a decent rain storm and a glimpse of some new-to-this-earth animals who were as fresh as they were cute.

It’s been a challenge to get Anna to engage in these outings. She is not only 10 going on 11 but she has recently bought a new tablet which she is constantly burying her nose in. I’ve started coming up with games and challenges to try to engage her with the real world around her. I think she is starting to enjoy the time and and has even spotted a few critters before I have. She especially likes the fact that I have started bribing her with ice cream in exchange for her company.

One of the best moments on our Friday evening excursion was a stop alongside the road to observe a fairly young colt. Anna requested the chance to get out and pet it, which I granted. The colt was a little shy and darted back behind the comfort of its more mature field-mates, but the other horses welcomed Anna’s touch and it lit me up inside to watch the interaction. We chased a few hawks and caught a lovely sunset before heading back to town for the ice cream.

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Saturday found me and a pack of my nearest and dearest friends wandering some freshly logged and very obstacle-laden terrain in the Cathedral Spires. They have been clearing the beetle kill but haven’t quite gotten around to cleaning up after themselves yet. We clumsily climbed up a valley between two giant walls of granite until we could not climb any higher (without ropes). As we sat and enjoyed the view I started to notice a rather high quantity of animal scat. I determined that it belonged to Mountain Goats and, considering the volume, we decided we were hanging out in an area where the goats liked to hang out too. We didn’t see any, but I am fairly sure I heard one as it ran off trying its best to hide from our pack of dogs.

Aside from noticing the scat from our resting point I also caught a glimpse of a rock climber across the valley on a neighboring spire. That area is a hot spot for climbers so I really didn’t think much of the fella until I noticed him again on the way back down the mountain. I looked up just in time to see that they weren’t just climbing but that they had run a slack-line between two spires and were JUST about to tight-rope walk across it. I was able to get the camera cued up and did a passing job of recording the event. It was truly a sight to behold.

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“goats”

Sunday, of course, was Mother’s Day. The day started with a side journey with just me and my wonderful mom out to an area I have been frequently exploring for photo adventures. There were a few sites out there I wanted to share. I especially wanted to show her a grouping of very large nests my friend Eric and I had spied on a previous adventure. They were perched at the very top of some giant cottonwood trees about a half a mile off the side of the road. Eric started to refer to them as “goats” (Eric has a special sense of humor… I appreciate it very much). Of course, they aren’t really goats, they are nests, but I liked the idea of them being called “goats” so I kept the name.

My mom had a pretty great pair of binoculars in her truck so I was able to make out the faintest shape of a very large bird perched on the top of the nest. “I think those are blue herons!” I exclaimed. My statement was met with hesitant disbelief and since I was unable to make an absolute identification we headed on and I continued to point at things and say “and this is where I took that one picture…” and “when we were here Anna did this… “

The last thing I wanted to show her before we fetched up the rest of the family for our official Mother’s Day outing was a fresh batch of tiny baby sheep Anna and I had happened across a few days earlier. We had a blast watching the little fluff balls play in the field and laughed as one seemed to be as allergic to the air as we are and proceeded to sneeze in a most familiar way.

After the sheep we swooped up my daughter and brother and we set out to aimlessly wander the Black Hills. Our quest consisted mostly of trying to find a place to eat lunch but circumstance after circumstance pushed the event back to about 3:00pm when we finally landed at Legion Lake. We shared a meal of BBQ and I chased around some beautiful swallows with my camera. Anna was able to dip her toes in the water before we loaded back up and hit the king of all Black Hills Roads, Iron Mountain, and headed home. The weather was perfect and I can’t think of a more lovely way to spend a day than celebrating our mom-ness with our kid-people in the Black Hills.

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The family affair was over but my hunger for adventure wasn’t yet satiated. I could tell by the thin clouds and the lazy sun that the sunset was going to be a good one, so I thought I would wonder out one last time in search of one more thing to focus my camera on… I had no idea I was about to discover the thrill of a lifetime.

I had already visited my usual location earlier with mom so I decided to take another direction out of town. I headed North instead of East and was surprised at how quickly I was gifted the final gift of my Mother’s Day.

I crested a hill just outside of town when I noticed a very familiar site. I instantly recognized another patch of “goats” in some trees. Only this time instead of a handful there were dozens and instead of the nests being too far away for me to see they were in the tops of trees right next to a side road. I pulled off without hesitation and lost my breath as I noticed 50 or so very large nests each inhabited by its own blue heron tending to the eggs.  I sat and watched as their partners came and went, returning with fresh twigs and sticks to fortify their homes.

It was without a doubt one of the most breathtaking sites I had ever seen. I had no idea that they nested in colonies like that. Its hard to find the words to describe the feelings I had as I watched them come and go. I shot hundreds of photos and couldn’t bring myself to start the car and leave even after I had filled every gig of memory space I had, but as the sun went down I did find the will-power to turn the key and drive away.

As I drove back to town a single heron flew above me following the same road. I laughed at how, had I not just spent all that time with so many birds, I would have freaked out at the site of that single bird flying above me. I didn’t appreciate the solitary bird any less but I did look at it in a totally different way.

All in all, it was a weekend to remember punctuated with a gift from mother nature herself. There were several occasions when things were so perfect or awe-inspiring that I felt the only explanation was that it was all a dream. But I think thats how we know you’re doing it right, when your reality feels as good as your wildest dreams. I am a truly lucky girl. I have the best mom, best daughter, best family a girl could ask for – and I live in God’s country where miracles happen daily, as long as you’re willing to find them.

I was floating on my brand new kayak out on Pactola yesterday.