Reading: Atonement

Watching: lakes and mountains

Moving: hiked 5 miles

2 September 2002: Jenny Lake

There were a mule deer doe and her this-year's twin fawns in our campground. In our campsite even. Following them, but, we figured, not allowed too close anymore, was a yearling (we thought) buck (we knew) who (we surmised) was her last year's fawn.

I prefer whitetail deer's tails, but they don't have nearly enough ear, which is the more important feature.

The fawns--this is one--still had some spots. The bush it's eating is about two feet from our tent. We had all four in our site, morning and evening, almost every day.

We car-camped in Jenny Lake campground, not on but not far from Jenny Lake. We started out by hiking around its southern shore to Cascade Creek and Hidden Falls.

After a summer nearly without rain, the incessant susurration of water, water freely flowing, tumbling and falling and dripping, fed my soul.

RDC used the timer on the camera to take a picture of us. This is not to say there was no one around. There was. Just not...a lot.

RDC's t-shirt is new, from the Phil Lesh show. Mine is eight years old, from Curbstone. I don't wear t-shirts often, but I really like this one. Curbstone's motto is, or was, a line from a poem: "Poetry, like bread, is for everyone."

Water.

The creek itself, swift, shallow, and shaded, I did not venture into. The lake I did. I hadn't planned for it, but hiking shorts dry quickly and I didn't mind a damp sports bra. I put my braid between my teeth before I dove because I figured the scream that really helps you deal with the shock of cold water could easily be mistaken for the scream you might loose upon meeting a bear.

This water is at least eight feet deep--my height plus an upraised arm. Like my beloved Lake Crescent in Olympic National Park, it's too cold for anything to grow in (except trout and trout chow) so it's perfectly clear. RDC joined me.

The east side of Jenny Lake. Here toward the southern end, it's quite shallow: bad for swimming. Takes too long to get into the deep water, harder to disguise a lack of bathing suit. Over the hill from our campground, north of here, we found a cove with big rocks. This became our swimming hole for the next week.