which_chick | (no subject)

The most interesting thing that happened at work today was that I rowed the rowboat back from the dam to the lodge.

The rowboat was at the dam because we did a draw-down a couple of weeks ago in order to replace the everyday spillway. (The special-occasion spillway is in fine shape and didn't need to be replaced.) Because the drain at the bottom of the lake is like twenty feet from shore in an equivalent depth of water (there's a stainless-steel stand over the valve so you can stand chest-deep in the water while opening the valve) and because the thing to open the valve is a large, heavy, metal thing, you need the rowboat to open and close the drain. We opened the drain and let out four feet of water and closed the drain for the spillway repair thing. That's why the rowboat was down there in the first place.

Since we're done with the damn project (not a typo), the rowboat needed to be put away. As it was a bright, clear, picture-perfect fall day, I volunteered for the putting away of the rowboat because that's the sort of work I can really get behind. I rowed the boat back, feeling all KINDS of smart for my ability to pick the job that required near-recreational effort in the fresh air and sunshine. That glorious state of mind persisted almost until I got to the dock at the lodge. Almost, because I stopped feeling quite so smart just about the time the rowboat slid to a stop on the edge of the twenty feet of mudflat that lay between the *current* edge of the water and the dock.

*sigh*

I hadn't thought of that. I hadn't thought of that the whole time I was rowing the fucking boat up the lake and looking at all the exposed, used-to-be-underwater shoreline and thinking how it looked like a bathtub ring and noting all the normally-submerged stumps that I could see and considering how the underneaths of them have been dug out by the fish... the whole time I was rowing past all this interesting stuff that was visible because the lake was four feet lower than normal, it never crossed my mind that I might have a bit of difficulty getting the boat to the dock.

So. Clearly, I'm not still sitting on the mudflat in the slightly-leaky rowboat waiting for the water to come back. (That may take until spring, depending on how much rain we get.) What on earth did I do? I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and drug the fucking rowboat through a calf-deep, slippery mudflat that smelled like fish. That's what I did. Because I'm smart. Yes. Quite so. Brain the size of a planet, over here...