Beyond the pavement

As we paddled from Rooster Tail Falls, we skirted the high cliffs of Azure Lake's southern shore. A few white, puffy clouds appeared in the otherwise clear blue sky. Though Azure Lake receives considerably more rainfall than Clearwater does, I was more concerned that we would have to find shelter from the winds that can come up suddenly on this lake. The winds never materialized, which was fortunate, because I never saw anyplace on the south shore where we could have hauled up out of bad weather.

A few hours of paddling brought us to a large bay on the southern shore of the lake. The shores were sandy here, though high peaks still towered over us. Across the bay lay our farthest camp on the trip, at Rainbow Falls. It lies only a few miles from the east end of Azure Lake, which, like Clearwater, is also about 16 miles long. A paddler we had met two days before mentioned that there was a large party of boy scouts at Rainbow Falls. Having been one myself, I have nothing against scouts. However, I can recall the low regard our troop had for silence and solitude when on outings. I was not looking forward to spending the night listening to war whoops and camp songs into the wee hours. My fears were allayed when I could see no canoes on the beach. Our pace quickened, as it appeared that we would spend the night at Rainbow Falls alone. Then we heard the distant whine of an outboard.

Though motors are permitted on the lakes, we encountered few powerboats, except for the ranger, a couple of tour boats, and one or two fishermen. Could this be the rangers, I wondered hopefully. As the sound of the motor became more distinct, I turned to see that it was a small crowded skiff, one of the tour boats. It circled the delta of the

Angus Horne River, where views of Rainbow Falls can be seen. Then the skiff turned and pulled up to the beach at the camp. A dozen or so passengers disembarked, with all the fanfare and noise of a circus coming to town. We could hear them all the way across the bay. Our hearts sank. This could be worse than even a dozen canoes full of scouts, I thought.

In the 15 minutes it took us to cross the bay, the noisy parade of tourists had made its way up the short trail to the falls and managed to eat a quick lunch. When we reached the beach, we chatted with the tour guide. He must have sensed our apprehension, because he quickly said, "We'll be outta here in a couple of minutes, and then you'll have it all to yourselves."

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