hazy, crazy, far from lazy
Oh…and did I mention Maisie?
Sometimes you wake up on a Saturday morning, fully aware that the fiercest heatwave of the summer will soon be settling in, and you realize what you need—what everyone in the household needs—is one last hurrah at the lake before hurrahs become synonymous with heatstroke. So that’s precisely what we did. Sleep-deprived and groggy, Dennie and I, nonetheless, wriggled ourselves into clothes and our brand new hiking boots, packed up the bare essentials, and loaded our dog—one who had nearly reached an explosive level of excitement—into the car. To avoid the three-to-four-hour wait for Maisie to safely exercise, without risk of bloat, this was all accomplished prior to breakfast. The alternative late morning start would’ve placed us at our destination just as the masses took over the beach and the temperatures rose to unbearable highs.
Much as it did for Sadie (our Labrador/Great Pyrenees mix), a life of adventure clearly suits Maisie Moon. The moment she deduced something was different about this morning, she repeatedly vocalized her displeasure that we were taking so long to get ready. "Hurry up!" "What are you...150?" "Do you really need to wear shoes?" "Mo-o-om, this is taking for-ever!" This is the general gist of what Dennie and I heard, in subtext if not in actual English. On the up side, the broad smile that followed each audible grievance landed her entreaties in the category of utter adorableness, as opposed to the nerve-fraying tension of an angsty, whiny teenager. Even before mention of the word lake, Maisie sensed our departure was imminent, and she was raring to go. We hurried up, as suggested, mainly out of fear that our lovely girl would soon burst right out of her fur.
Though the park was rapidly filling up with weekend revelers by the time we departed, upon our arrival, there was scarcely another soul in sight, save for one Canada goose and a lone mallard lazily wading in murky waters beneath a hazy sky. There was also that one unexpected reindeer in the woods; based on his choice of precariously high platforms, we believe he was trying to fly. As reindeer do. Apparently.
Unlike our July excursion, the less populated conditions permitted us to hike around the main lakeshore, over the bridge, and down to the swimming beach where we’ve never previously ventured. Maisie wasn’t thrilled about the bridge. We don’t know if she was disconcerted by the water to either side of her or the slight give to the wooden planks beneath our feet, but eventually she surrendered and walked toward the other end rather than trying to skedaddle back to the beginning. When she reached the stairs that would restore her to solid earth, she took them at a crazy, Dennie-dragging velocity that left this mom in the dust. Definitely not a fan of narrow structures over water.
The ostensibly deadly perils of bridges notwithstanding, it was a beautiful morning all around. While we lacked the brilliant blue skies of our previous visit—blues that had reflected vibrantly in the rippling waters—this hazy, gray-green morning remained mostly cool, we three enjoyed some energetic exercise without dodging other park-goers at every turn, and we were able to photograph new scenic views of everyone’s favorite watering hole here in the tranquil foothills of our very own Mt. Baker.