Cowboy, Cody, and I made our end of summer boat trip with grandkids to Cooney Reservoir this week. It was hot in the Stillwater Valley outside of Columbus, and we thought a couple days respite on the cool water would be nice. Different view. Gentle breeze. A refreshing dip in the lake. A lovely time for Cowboy and me, but not Cody. He is a cairn terrier and doesn’t think much of the water and spends boat days sulking and growling.
We loaded everything we needed for food, clothing, and shelter, and off we went. We were looking forward two days on the lake. Soon we were ready to launch our boat, the Far West, named after Lewis and Clark’s steamship, most known for rescuing survivors of the Little Big Horn Battle.
Cooney is a reservoir that dammed up Red Lodge Creek in 1937 and is always busy, summers with boating and camping and winters with ice fishing. (That’s another story). It is a Montana State Park with over 300 acres, owned and operated by the Montana Department of Natural Resources and Conservation (MDRC). The Beartooths offer a beautiful backdrop to this little lake amid the rolling foothills, between Joliet and Absarokee, a few miles from Red Lodge. Cowboy ranched on Red Lodge Creek and has told many stories of the early Norwegian settlers and St. Olaf Church and his love of this part of Montana.
On this day, everyone in the valley had the same idea we did, and it was crowded. We took the boat off the trailer and began to launch. The wind picked up. Cowboy said, “Uh, oh, wind. Gail, hang onto the boat lines.” Cody growled and barked “Arf,” and I yelled, “Cowboy, I can’t hold the boat in the wind,” as I stretched from dock to boat, looking like a Popeye, hanging onto Olive Oyl.
As luck would have it, three people were in line behind us and were in a hurry to launch their boat and came to our rescue. They didn’t want to wait, and literally threw Cody into the boat, pushed me over the railing, while Cowboy, much more limber than I, cartwheeled into the Far West, and just like that, we were on our adventure.
The grandkids had not arrived yet, so we decided to forgo the wind and tour the lake. We sailed the length of the lake and back, noting the wonderful views of the Beartooths’ foothills. Beautiful clouds and when I touched the water, it felt warm-ish. A little breezy, making the water choppy, but having water splash up from time to time was very agreeable.
Then, the wind died down and we anchored, pausing our boat trip, and took a rest, enjoying adult beverages. Cody and I took a nap. When I awoke, the wind had picked up, the anchor had fouled, we were drifting to a lee shore. Or maybe the Missouri River. Cody had moved to the far-end of the bed, and covered his eyes with a blanket. Cowboy said, “No problem, I’ll raise the anchor, you steer the boat. We will be off in a jiffy.” Great idea, but I don’t know much about steering the boat into a strong wind and waves that were six feet high (in my humble opinion). Luckily, Cowboy somehow kept his balance on the bow and after multiple tries, plus gesturing antics, (sign language for controlling the boat he later explained), he brought the anchor in. Forward, reverse, and some sort of slash that I later learned meant neutral. I strongly mentioned the importance of life jackets, gulped down a glass of my adult beverage stash, and joined Cody in his snarling mood.
Finally, all is well. The wind died, and I decided to take a dip in this oh-so-pleasant water. The top six inches of the lake were very warm, but the next four feet were cold, then COLDER, followed by REALLY COLD. But I did it! I hadn’t been swimming in a long time and it felt good. We cooked hamburgers and enjoyed the amazing sunset. Soon after we were snuggled in our berth, and Cody stuck his head under the sleeping bag at our feet. As the lapping of the water against the hull lulled us to sleep, we gave thanks to the Lord for another day of adventures in the foothills of the Beartooths. Sleep well, Pilgrims. Gail is a novelist living in Columbus. Her website is gailcushman.com.
