“C’mon, guys! Let’s go down to the lake!”
Bridget and Spike are in their suits and ready to go! We walk the paved road to the day use area, passing picnic tables and grills.
Instead of joining the Sunday swimmers at the beach, the crew and I walk over to the deserted boat ramp area so Spike can have a private soak.
Only one person is fishing, and he’s way over by the narrow part of the lake.
This is what can be caught from Delmoe Lake: smelt, rainbow trout, bluegill, sucker, northern pike, cutthroat trout, rock bass, whitefish, sunfish, and yellow perch.
From this side, looking across the lake, there are no signs of human activity, only a faint trace of a dirt road. The lake is less than ten miles from Butte, yet any populace seems a world away.
We walk to the end of this side of the lake. The beach becomes rocky.
Bridget and Spike stroll the water’s edge.
We wander around the big, strange rocks.
Few people are here, considering it’s the weekend and children are out of school.
We head back to our campsite for an early supper.
Later, after supper, the crew investigates the property around our picnic table.
It’s July 29th and cool. The Best Little Trailer is pelted with rain during the night. We wake to a freshly washed forest smelling piney and pure.
“Let’s have eggs this morning!”
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