I glance back down the main body of the lake to the south where a couple of small islands break up the monotony of the open water. Otherwise the lake stretches to the horizon. There is no sign of any boats in that direction.
-Chapter 10 |
The woods on the north bank are an even more tangled mess than the other side. There is less overhead canopy cover, and stumps and downed tree limbs litter the ground....With all the new sapling and brush growth shooting up around the fallen limbs, this is truly impenetrable.
-Chapter 15 |
Through the dark cloud, we see Trident Lake.... The windblown heat of the fire is warming any piece of exposed skin nearly to the point of discomfort, and that serves to quicken our furious hike down the hillside to Trident.
-Chapter 18 |
The fog cover hangs over us like a blanket of sadness. Few words are spoken all morning, as we grieve in our own ways. However, despite the gloom, the fog is quite handy in obscuring our movements. We approach a shallow bay adjoining the river connection of Ensign to Splash, and I sense that this will be an excellent time to catch a meal and cook it in concealment.
-Chapter 14 |
Unlike the Great Plains, where glaciers deposited fertile soil in gently rolling fields, glacial scouring has carved out a unique, but treacherous, landscape for us to cross.... Hence the old moniker: The Land of 10,000 Lakes. With practically every able-bodied teen conscripted into the labor force, it seems to me that it should be updated to The Land of 10,000 Work Camps.
-Chapter 5 |
I pick out a spot by the edge of the inlet stream. There are some weeds poking through the water surface, and I work my way out across the shallow water on rocks to a point where I can get my bait just beyond the weedline. There I find a gentle current that leads out into the main body of the narrow lake.
-Chapter 12 |