Canoeing Until My Arms Fall Off

Since summer started, I can assure you that, save one or two occasions, I have not been out of bed before 10 or 11 a.m. As I’ve spent the past three years getting up before 6, I’ve decided to embrace my sleep-filled mornings. They are, I fear, few and fleeting.

Except for today, when my father decided we should probably canoe from Lake Wingra to Lake Monona to Lake Mendota.

Lake 1, 5:30 a.m. and off to a roaring start.

Heading toward Lake 2. Reminder to self: Clean dust off lens and filter.

In the stream/river/whatever between Lakes 1 and 2, there were approximately 9 million (with a perhaps minus 1) carp. Perhaps minus 1 appeared to be a bit disoriented and plowed head-first into our canoe with a pretty terrific thunk. Good luck, little guy.

Still heading toward Lake 2.

(There are no photos of Lake 2, as I took a turn in the kayak. Use your imagination. Hint: It looks remarkably similar to Lakes 1 and 3.)

Oh look! Lake 3. And the capitol.

Lake 3. Hour 4.5 and approaching the end. Somehow both my arms appeared to be attached to my body, a significant feat as I rarely do anything with them besides lift my camera up and down.

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