Note: Edited to remove a perfectly innocent descriptive phrase that lewd and crude minds have usurped, turning it into, Mike informs me, something I do not mean. Sigh. Regular readers know I generally have a g-rated mind, but the rest of you who got here via a search for this phrase–and, yes, that makes you irregular readers–poo on you.

It’s a beautiful calm morning. What do you say we take the canoe up to the lake?

Sometimes you ride with the canoe, and sometimes the canoe rides with you. Lining the canoe up the stream is easier than portaging over land, especially considering the thick brush along the banks.

When the sun rises over the mountain this fog will lift.

See? Told ya.

A month ago, this lake was filled with spawning salmon and lined with hungry black bears. Not a fish carcass or bear to be seen today. I was surprised by the lack of fish remnants.

Vast mountains and valleys, distant waterfalls, warm-enough temperature, and sun, sun, sun.

Hooray for rubber boots! Though hip waders would have been better. We walked up one of the inlet streams. So much easier than bushwhacking.

Aside from the resident seals and sea otters, the only wildlife we saw was a dead starry flounder.

Flatfish are bizarre, the way one eye migrates so the fish can lay flat on the ocean floor. The orientation of the eyes as compared to the mouth, which is perpendicular to its more common orientation, looks odd, no?

It was a tiny thing. I guess the radiating black stripes make the thing look like a star?