Horsetooth Reservoir, Ft. Collins, Colorado

I'll start this one from the end. As I was de-boating back at the ramp, I stepped into knee-deep, wet, sandstone clay, fell over, and dropped my camera onto the concrete ramp. It managed three awful bounces before it came to rest near the water. I'm getting a "zoom error" now and I fear it may be the end of my camera. Had this happened pre-paddle, I would be distraught right now, but I got all the shots, and who knows it may work again, but most cameras aren't designed to bounce.

Navigating Horsetooth was entirely pleasant. The weather was everything yesterday's was not: sunny, clear, breezy and I could see for miles. Miles before I approached Horsetooth, I could tell it used to be a sandstone canyon, now a reservoir, thanks to the damming of four separate rivers. Although this knowledge haunted me the whole time, I was able to get to the place I like to get to when I paddle--a lazy, timeless, meandering state of mind.


The sound of cold lake water sounds different against the paddle than the warm water back home. And cold it was. I ran my hand along the boat and the water ran down my sleeve and stayed cold. Yet it was warm enough that, an hour in, I had to take off my jacket and paddle in my t-shirt. When the sun disappeared behind the clouds later, the temperature dropped 20 degrees.

I wandered into one of the many inlets and pulled up to hike up the hill and listen to the wind blowing through the cottonwoods. Canadian geese and wood ducks were resting nearby, clearly acclimated to the presence of human beings (houses lined this part of the reservoir). All of Colorado is under a long-term drought and evidence was everywhere of the effects here. The level was at least 30 feet lower than it was supposed to be. For a reservoir 200 feet deep, though, it had some room to spare.


I spoke to some fishermen on the way back, who asked me if I were fishing from my kayak. I wasn't, as the hotel does not come equipped with a stove or grill, but the very suggestion made me hungry, and someday I would like to catch my dinner from my boat back home, which is where I am headed now.