The canyon is narrow.

And full of water.

Maybe not as much water as normal years, but still a lot of water. With effort, you could throw a stone across the reservoir in a few places, but the depth will make up the difference. No idea how deep the water is in the canyon (... wait a minute... bet I can figure that out. Hang on... Okay, the topo map says the dam is about 210' high, and water's down at least 40' below the top of that, so figure in the canyon you've got about 170' of water below you.)

... now I've forgotten where I was going with that sentence.

Anyway, it was calm and peaceful down there, on the water, in the canyon. On the fifth of this month.

Except for the few times a power boat came buzzing through. Had two whiz by that were pretty obviously drag racing while we were checking a boatload of fishermen along the side. And, of course, we weren't always just putzing through there ourselves. On our final pass in the evening, made solely because I was hoping to spot some bighorn sheep on the canyon slopes, we kinda rushed it getting out.

What we found at the head of the lake though, was not bighorn sheep, nor the anglers I had expected. Instead we found a gathering of boats, all moored together by the dam. Not a fishing pole in sight.

Warden reported this was standard procedure in the summer. Folks from the nearby boat club would motor up the canyon, and while away the afternoon and evening just visiting and sunbathing. Safe from the winds, dust and blowing sand that often scour the rest of the reservoir in the afternoons.

Nice way to kill a summer.

But this is just a long-winded way to introduce what I intended to be the entry for today. Just a photo from that morning. In those steep canyons, the boat wakes echo off the rock walls, creating unusual ripple patterns in the water: