I can’t recall a day beginning any more perfect than Thursday. Having driven by the Lake all week, enviously watching others enjoy our blue, blue waters, I decided it was my turn. Arriving just after 6:30 a.m., I slipped my kayak into the smooth, reflective pool of Boulder Bay. Sharing the water’s edge with a striking Mallard dabbing for food just below the surface, I pushed away creating a slight ripple in the otherwise still water. I quickly found my glide and soundlessly passed between the Bay’s signature rock formations.

I hadn’t paddled since a weekend trip to Mission Bay in April. That weekend made me commit to a regular paddle schedule this summer - taking advantage of our 22 miles of alpine shoreline. Finally, I thought, I am able to honor that commitment!A Good Day
Looking out from Kayak
I can’t recall a day beginning any more perfect than Thursday. Having driven by the Lake all week, enviously watching others enjoy our blue, blue waters, I decided it was my turn. Arriving just after 6:30 a.m., I slipped my kayak into the smooth, reflective pool of Boulder Bay. Sharing the water’s edge with a striking Mallard dabbing for food just below the surface, I pushed away creating a slight ripple in the otherwise still water. I quickly found my glide and soundlessly passed between the Bay’s signature rock formations.

I hadn’t paddled since a weekend trip to Mission Bay in April. That weekend made me commit to a regular paddle schedule this summer - taking advantage of our 22 miles of alpine shoreline. Finally, I thought, I am able to honor that commitment!

I cruised past swim beach - tracing the shore, dodging in-and-out of tiny coves along the way. I picked up speed rounding Eagle Point – proud of my smooth cadence. I aimed my bow for my turn around point – the East Launch ramp. Just as I lifted my blade out of the water I heard the sound of beating wings overhead. Looking up I watched as a lone Eagle landed high in a weathered pine. It was a bit surreal. A member of our wintering Eagle population decided to linger a little longer. Perhaps he was persuaded to stick around because of the fabulous view from his perch or the endless fishing. I felt a connection with this free-thinking soul and noiselessly cheered his choice.

Turning around I moved toward the center of the Lake, wanting to capture the Eagle with my camera. But he had other priorities and must have spotted something interesting in the next inlet over. Taking flight, the beating of his wings broke the silence of my morning.

I paddled a more direct route back to Boulder Bay, picking up the tempo of my morning workout. Coasting into shore I spotted another lone kayaker and we both agreed: It doesn’t getter any better than this.

I cruised past swim beach - tracing the shore, dodging in-and-out of tiny coves along the way. I picked up speed rounding Eagle Point – proud of my smooth cadence. I aimed my bow for my turn around point – the East Launch ramp. Just as I lifted my blade out of the water I heard the sound of beating wings overhead. Looking up I watched as a lone Eagle landed high in a weathered pine. It was a bit surreal. A member of our wintering Eagle population decided to linger a little longer. Perhaps he was persuaded to stick around because of the fabulous view from his perch or the endless fishing. I felt a connection with this free-thinking soul and noiselessly cheered his choice.

Turning around I moved toward the center of the Lake, wanting to capture the Eagle with my camera. But he had other priorities and must have spotted something interesting in the next inlet over. Taking flight, the beating of his wings broke the silence of my morning.

I paddled a more direct route back to Boulder Bay, picking up the tempo of my morning workout. Coasting into shore I spotted another lone kayaker and we both agreed: It doesn’t getter any better than this.