A time out of place
Even in the dim start of the day which hinted back to how many seasons in the area had begun, with low clouds hanging over the rock-and-cedar covered edges of the small
stream on Lake Superior’s north shore, it was evidently summer. The humidity stuck to everything like the rust-colored algae on the rocks in the slower edge pools and I felt the
breathability of my waders fade as they quickly began to cling to my legs in the August air. While not hot to start, it was a far cry from those cold spring days of the past plying
the rushing waters of the flow for the massive blue-silver steelhead which made their spawning run up against the rapids from their adult home in Gitche Gumee.Where then
my knuckles would turn red, then white, then useless with stiffness from the chill and require a good five-minute warmup during a hike along the shoreline, now only my
brow, dripping with sweat in the warming post-dawn was likely the only red portion of my body. In the still of the early morning, though, it was the place
to be.
