The Men and the Lake

We could talk about the storm.

We could talk about the wind and waves.

We could talk about the boat.

We could talk about the life jackets.

We could talk about the men and the lake.

We could talk about why they went so far out from shore.

We could talk about the beer and whisky.

We could talk about how they ended up in the water.

We could talk about their struggle.

We could talk about what they talked about.

We could talk about friendship.

We could talk about luck.

We could talk about the storm

Like often happens

In Montana, it came on fast.

The conditions went from ideal to

“I don’t know, man” in the time it took to down a tall can of Rainier.

Dark clouds gathered on the horizon like a herd of buffalo.

With a crack of thunder, the herd stampeded.

The storm trampled them in minutes.

Leaving them stunned.

It left them floundering for hours. And then, it passed on.

Across the lake and over the mountains.

Leaving the two men in its wake.

Swimming for their lives.

We could talk about the wind and waves.

Blustery doesn’t cut it.

It truly went beyond bluster.

Wind blew water spray that stung like bees.

Waves grew to three feet, hurtling ever faster.

Rain fell in sharp angles, like shards of glass from a broken sky.

Beneath them, there was action of a different kind. The fish finder on their dashboard

Showed there were monsters lurking not far below. Huge fish on the rise.

The boat rocked in the waves, like a bronc rider.

Up and down, from crest to trough.

Did they simply wait too long?

To reel in their lines?

We could talk about the boat.

It was a small fishing boat.

Half covered with a tan canvas top.

A boat of white with black trim, named Calypso.

Twenty-two feet long with a fish finder and 200 HP Mercury outboard motor.

Equipped with an electronic fish finder and net.

Rented for seven days – Monday, Sept. 12 through Sept. 19.

Found abandoned on Wild Horse Island.

In the boat – one life jacket, one fishing rod (line reeled in), various tackle including

Lures and spoons, normally used when jackrigging for deep lake trout.

The boat was in working order. No engine failure.

And still with fuel.

We could talk about the life jackets.

As standard,

The boat was equipped with life jackets.

One for each person on board. Two.

One jacket was found in the boat when it was discovered,

Washed up on Wild Horse Island. Abandoned.

Authorities speculated that both men

At some point left the vessel.

In a raging storm.

With just one

Life jacket.

Why?

We could talk about the men and the lake.

Friends since third grade,

They grew up on Wyoming Avenue, five houses apart,

Throwing rocks and snowballs and insults at other kids, and each other.

And making themselves crack up.

Two friends. One serious and competitive, the other funny and who-gives-a-shit.

Connor and Mason. Also known by many as Connie and Mace.

After high school, Connor went to college and Mason joined the Navy.

They drifted apart for a decade, then nature (or fish, or fate),

Brought them back together.

They reconnected over a shared love of angling, drinking, and sports trivia.

It had been eight years since they last fished together,