In the cold mountain lakes of the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie
National Forest, above the misty moors, lurk creatures both
fearsome and majestic. I encountered one such last week while
hiking in the highlands with my daughters. Though we lived to tell
the tale, you, good traveller, should take care - not everyone who
travels those woods returns.
On that dreary fall day, my lassies and I had stopped for lunch
near Loch Katrine, and were paddling around the lake in our rowboat
when a monster rose from the depths to challenge our presence. We
raced for the nearest shore; a small island in the middle of the
lake. Huddled safely out of reach of the beastie, we found refuge
under a snag on a rocky promontory as it screeched its furor over
our escape. If we ever wanted to see our home again, we would have
to brave those perilous waters once more, and to cross safely we
would need two things: luck and speed.
Luck we could only hope for, but speed we could do something
about; adrenaline would help, still, we needed to lighten our load.
So we left our valuables and other non-essentials at our hiding
place and, when the specter cruised to the opposite shore in search
of more easily obtainable food, we made our break. It was a close
thing too. We had nearly reached safety when the creature surfaced
underneath us, throwing the boat towards land and tearing a gash in
the keel as we scraped across the logs at the lake's edge. As water
rushed in, we jumped out into the shallows and yelled to ward off
our attacker as we ran for our lives.
Our treasures remain on the island, and our now-useless boat is
still waiting by the edge of the lake. You are welcome to them, for
we have learned that luck is fickle and won't dare risk it again
ourselves. But know you will need to bring a fast boat and a stout
heart if you intend to prevail, for death awaits you with nasty big
pointy teeth.