John & Anne Wiley

We joined those remembering 9/11 and wept along. Now there’s something nurturing about looking back at photos from another day.

Waking in a quiet apple grove was magical and healing, after nodding off under the stars and dreaming on the journey. The dome of rock stood silent beyond the ripening fruit, keeping its own pace of change slower than the swirl of plants and animals.

4328 Different Paces

The buzz of an insect yielded to the approaching engine of the day’s first airplane as we strolled among the trees. After another drive into town in a borrowed pickup we loaded into Tripp and again flew over what we’d now enjoyed from the air and twice on the ground. The magnificent river beneath the lake was refreshing, and the light of day provided details like the power plant at the left next to a creek that had probably once been the sole raging outlet now reduced to a trickle. This riverside area on both banks of the mighty Columbia seems to be a detached part of the town that centers at the base of the lake.

4335 River Playground

A little way up the creek stands an old bridge now fenced off, that perhaps used to be on the highway along the river. Now it seems to be part of a popular game trail winding down the hill on the left.

4343 Game Bridge

A little further up the creek is a winding gorge that opens up to the base of the lake where the dam now sits, and the town continues beyond.

4340 Chelan Outlet

After we passed the town I snapped this view back at the lower bridge where we’d just dabbled in the lake at the small park on the right where locals jogged and walked their dogs.

4358 Downtown Chelan

You can see the dam again at the top, and at night the tourists’ teens had been walking in groups along the street to the left of the bottom bridge. The lake is quite long, and we decided to fly up it for a look. It widens here and has more small towns on both sides. It’s so big that quite a few boats can zip around and still have lots of space.

4369 Chelan Widens

The lake goes back so far that we passed several bends opening into long new sections that continued clear back to snow-capped peaks. We decided to turn toward Renton after a last long look.

4375 Chelan Narrows

Memories are shaped by the experiences that bracket key events, and by the mementos we collect as reminders. Though some events of that day seem crisp, already many have faded and even changed in memory. Are there any elements of my life, or this lake, that will endure ten thousand years? My quest is to live, love and laugh in this brief moment, including contemplative looks ahead and back.

After the short and pleasant hop from Cascade to McCall we stopped for lunch and a leisurely look at the town near the airport. Then back into Tripp for a takeoff over the lake, where our zoom lens picked up this ski boat towing someone on a flotation device of some kind (shown in the version on my Photo Page). But here’s a crop at full resolution where I can make out people watching from the boat. I get the sense of adults taking great care while the person being towed is having a great carefree thrill. It just says “family fun” to me in a loving way.

4188 Boatload of Love

The lake wanders back into the foothills and then wraps around, with a lovely swamp in the middle.

4192 Heart of Lk. Payette

While most of the lake is patrolled by speeding boats and jetskis, there are quiet corners that remind me of solitude in a silent canoe.

4194 Quiet Shore

We followed the Salmon River for quite a way, and going thru the pix again just now I found this one that includes people in at least four different boats taking turns enjoying the rapids.

4265 Whitewater Boating

I was predictably fascinated by this rock dome, and wondered if it had been the core of a small volcano standing fast as the wandering river flattened the surrounding land.

4327 Steadfast Dome

Anne snapped this last one as we were lining up to land in the variable winds. At the right is a large apple orchard that we strolled in the morning light. Beyond it where the white hangars are in shadow was a grassy spot designated for “fly camping” (tent next to the plane). Beyond the end of the runway you can just make out the highway that winds past the mountain to the town and lake we toured briefly at dusk.

0362 Local Layout

In the warm night we lay on our backs with only the tent’s mesh skylight between our contemplative eyes and the starry night.

After just two nights at Smiley Creek, it felt like we’d been enjoying the serene beauty in this area forever. Partly due to the people and scenery I guess, and partly “prop advance.” That phenomenon we’ve frequently noticed, that seems the opposite of “jet lag.” With the latter you can feel exhausted and confused, and many people say you lose at least a day. With prop advance, you feel exhilarated and invariably seem to gain at least a day. So when we woke in Smiley and I went flying to meet the gals in Stanley, it truly felt as if puttering around the teepee at sunup had been the day before we met at the airport. Since I flew several times every day, it was even stronger and was then compounded by scenery like this.

4098 Redfish Finger

Wasn’t it at least a week since we’d met Julie’s friends on the shore of Redfish Lake? Doesn’t looking at the Sawtooths reflected in the deep blue water take the observer out of chronos time to wander in reverie? When we flew up to look at the headwaters of the Salmon River back beyond Smiley, I was flashed back in time to 20-something wilderness hikes in Canada.

4109 Salmon River Headwaters

When we flew back past Redfish again climbing to leave the valley, wind patterns on the water seemed to wave a slow motion farewell.

4131 Redfish Reflection

As we looked back at the Sawtooth Mountains a few minutes later, Sawtooth Lake seemed to be waving too.

4150 Sawtooth Lake Farewell

Time is such a fleeting thing. A young man wandering the wilderness becomes an old man flying over it. Strong friendships form, and are broken when one departs. People and places we love come and go, and it all passes in reflections on the river of Time.