Out on Lindbergh

Yesterday, to spite my better judgment I took the boat out.  It was raining pretty much all day, but the crew and I were restless due to the poor weather and needed a break in the monotony.

Being stuck in Condon Montana is no picnic.  There is nothing to do unless you like dive bars or hiking.  The locals are friendly enough, but offer little in the way of entertainment.  Unless you happen to be at Liquid Louie’s on a Saturday night; it can get pretty lively.

Round about two in the afternoon, I was asked if we were going to take the boat out.  I looked at the weather (dark and overcast) and said what the hell.  We hooked up the boat, drove down to the local store, bought supplies, and headed out.

Within about fifteen minutes we had reached Lindbergh Lake; a small four mile long  lake in the Mission Range of northern Montana.  Not what I would call a good sailing lake, but you could tell by the numerous houses along the shore, and the power boats on their docks that it was a well used body of water.

The crew and I, that is, me and a couple new friends Lucas and Donovan, arrived and set up the boat; soon there after we had it in the water.  No sooner then that took place, than it started to rain.  Our adventure on Lindbergh Lake was not starting out to well.

We retreated to Lucas’s truck, where we took refuge.  About fifteen minutes later the rain subsided and I made the decision to begin our little voyage.  It was overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining, a definite plus.

The mountains from the lake

I started my four horse Evinrude and motored us out into the lake.  The mist was ever present, but as we moved further out in to the water it became apparent that Lindbergh Lake had some beautiful scenery to offer.  We motored west roughly down the middle of the lake.  I estimate that it was about a quarter mile wide at most.  The lake meandered thought a steep glacier carved valley and was completely surrounded by lush forests.  It was very picturesque.

During that time I made preparations to get rained on again, by erecting a home made canopy over the cockpit.  With bungee cords, tent poles, and tarp installed; we were now ready for the deluge.  Good thing too, because it started raining on us shortly there after.

With no sun and wet conditions it was a cold trip.  Donovan decided he was more comfortable in the cabin; leaving Lucas and I to man the cockpit.  We hunkered down under the tarp as the Flying Fish slowly made her way down the lake.  The tarp did its job with the exception of our derrières.  The water coming into the cockpit was soaking the seats.

As we rounded the last bend of the lake we were rewarded with a great view of the high peaks located in the Mission Wilderness.  It almost looked as if we had been transported to the Alps.  I was waiting for some guy in lederhosen to pop out of the forest. Actually, lederhosen were not on my mind. 

I did a couple circles at the west end of the lake before heading back; the whole time taking in the magnificent view.  We could see that there was going to be a break in the weather, but I decided that it was better to make our way back instead of counting on a reprieve in the rain.

When we were almost back, about a half a mile from the boat ramp, the rain stopped; if only for a brief pause.  It looked like the sun might make out and warm us up.  It was at time that I broke out the grill and fired it up. 

The motor was silenced and we sat drifting on Lindbergh Lake.  We threw some brats on the grill and soon were feasting.  Those and a couple beers did us good.  Pretty much as soon as we finished eating the weather decided it was time for the fun to end.   

The rain started up again and so did the motor.  By the time we made it to the boat ramp it was getting pretty wet.  It took us about fifteen minutes to get the boat ready to tow.  We hopped in Lucas’s truck, heater on, and headed back to the ever exciting Condon work station to resume our ever exciting weekend activities.  But hey, at least I got the boat out.  Oh, and we did see a deer swimming.

Swimming deer