The morning is still with a small bit of haze and a quiet likened to Cape Cod summer mornings skipping across the harbor in our 14 ft whaler. “The water’s like glass,” I say, as we slip our paddles in and out and push our boats onward exploring rocky inlet after rocky inlet, “how about here?” We dart into a small escape from the larger part of the lake. Rounding a corner, our boats are suddenly in the midst of a lily pad forest, and we slide up onto the adjacent granite shore with ease. Once up and out, we find our spot, lay out our towels and bask in the Sierra summer morning sun. “It doesn’t get much better than this,” we exclaim before one or both of us leaps off the rock to break the stillness of the water.