"You know what," Shelley said, as we sat snuggled into the couch at the cabin, watching a movie. "This ... was the perfect day."
And she was right. It was. ... Couldn't have scripted a better one to be honest.
After getting in late Friday, and sleeping in on Saturday morning, we awoke to the fresh-smelling lake air and the waves quietly lapping against the shore. The late autumn temperature spike allowed for us to sleep with a window open, and nothing entices you into a deep, relaxing sleep than the cool night lake air.
We purposely had brought no groceries with us because we wanted to run into Blackduck, the quaint little town only 20 minutes up the road that has become a favorite weekend getaway for us.
So we got going late in the morning, and purposely took a detour there so that we could drive the long way through the surrounding gravel roads and the hardwoods which were dressed up in their most beautiful autumn duds. I can't even describe the yellows, the oranges, the reds and even the pale greens that blanketed the roadsides. So much in awe, I don't think I drove more than 40 mph on the way in to town.
Once in town, we of course wanted to go grab brunch at The Hungry Duck, which is your quintessential small town café, and which is a must-visit if you're ever in the neighborhood. And we left as stuffed as we've ever been, and Shelley still took home leftovers.
After brunch, we headed over to Blackduck Family Foods, which is one of the better small town grocery stores you're ever going to visit. And this is judgement of a gal (Shelley) whose parents owned four small town grocery stores when she was going up. Full of every grocery section you'd need, including a mini-deli, a bakery, a butcher, fresh vegetables and a huge freezer section for such a small store. And then they go the odds and ends and outdoor needs, that anyone whose staying at a lake cabin might need. I don't say this in jest, but this might be Shelley's favorite part of our trips into Blackduck because she loves casing out small town grocery stores that much.
After the grocery store, we then hit up a small boutique gift and toy store, then the liquor store and then a bait store before we headed back home for a slow ride through the autumn leaves. About halfway back to the cabin, I pulled an audible and took the gravel road that leads us in the back way, a route on which Shelley had never been. The first few miles is a pretty heavily travelled gravel road with a few homes, but then it take sharp southward turn, and the houses disappear, and you are surrounded on both sides by hardwoods, conifers and birch trees. And we were again treated to a color palette that could only be produced by an unlimited Creator. In addition, there were small lakes and ponds that would pop up on each side of the road, here there, adding to the glorious panorama.
Shelley loved the drive so much that she would see something she wanted to see up close, and so she would yell, "Stop the car! ... Let me out!" ... And she would jump out with her camera, and run down the gravel road, telling me to follow her in the car. ... And I dutifully followed along at a crawl in the car, windows down, smiling at my adorable wife who looked like a carefree kid at play in nature.
We made a drive that should have probably taken 20 to 25 minutes into an hourlong ride, and I don't regret one minute of it.
Once back at the cabin, we eagerly broke out the fishing rods, and each picked a different dock on which to launch our angling attack. ... Only to essentially skunked after an hour of casting. The fish just weren't biting, and so as a fallback, we geared up the canoe and set out on the lake.
Trust me, this was no disappointment, as the trees that surround the entire northern side of the lake were electric with fall colors. So, as I paddled us along, Shelley kept trying her luck in the water. We paddled all along the northeastern bay for an hour with no luck, and so we headed around the point that marks the northwest side of the bay and paddled slowly over to the island that is such a favorite breaking point. There is a perfect launch on the north side of the little island that allows you guide the canoe in smoothly, beach it, get out and swim in the sandy bay and explore the island. We spent a half hour exploring the island and working the kinks out of our backs, and decided it was time to head back toward the cabin.
I took the helm again and acted as Shelley's trolling motor while she lazily drug a jig and worm behind us. About 50 yards out from the island, Shelley felt a tug. Not knowing whether she had caught more weeds, which was pretty common that day, she started reeling in the line. But at some point she saw a bit of a fish flip and knew she had something. ... She was thrilled when she pulled in a small northern. ... "It's a snick," she shouted. "A little snick!" ... After a quizzical look from me, she added that that's what she had always called them, and didn't know where she picked up that lingo.
The fish was nothing to keep, of course, but it made her day to bring in something more than the small sunny each we'd caught all the rest of the day. But that pretty much marked the end of fishing for the day, as she didn't get another bite afterward. So she pulled in the rod, and we just paddled for fun.
About that time we were approaching the point again that helps create the bay on the northeast side of the lake, and Shelley suggested it was time to pull over and dig out some more trophy rocks for our rock garden back home. (Every time we go somewhere we bring home new rocks -- some big, some small -- to add to our outdoor rock gardens. I'll share some photos sometime in the future.)
And lo and behold, for the first time in all of the rocks we hauled home, I found a cool, jagged sedimentary rock that had a fossil in it. It is just a faint imprint of a seashell, only about the size of a nickel, but I was jazzed! ... Far more so than had we caught fish that day. Shelley wasn't as impressed with my find, but I am still excited, even a week later. Finding fossils holds a special place in my heart, and I'll have to explain the story one day. But let's just say that it is one of my favorite memories from the five trips we made to the cabin this summer.
As we finally made our way back to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set. So I went about stowing all the gear from the canoe as Shelley headed inside to start cooking supper. And then we sat on the deck overlooking the lake, on warm autumn night, watching the sun set and eating a steak done to perfection. ... Not a bad consolation prize even though there was no fresh fish to eat!
Later, after we had dinner cleaned up and dishes washed, we crashed on the couch together and pulled up a couple of movies to watch together. Call it being weary, call it being jaded, we rarely ever snuggle up together to watch TV. But we did that night, and despite us both being sleepy from an active day outdoors, we hung in there for most of two movies before our eyes got too droopy to stay open. ... And then we crawled under homemade quilts, chilled with night lake air and dreamt about the most perfect day ever.
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