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Authors: Jeff Noonan
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realized that he would be leaving St. Dubois soon. The thought somehow saddened him. He’d found friends here, something that had eluded him during the past months as he chased the illusive lake from the painting. But he wasn’t ready to give up the quest. He had promised his parents that he’d find it and he meant to do exactly that.
That evening, Lee stayed in his little cabin and studied the maps Kurt had given him. It was a discouraging effort as he began to realize how big the task was that lay before him. In just the northwestern quarter of Montana, he counted over sixty lakes. Many would take days to reach by car and foot. But, he reassured himself, he had already looked at almost half of them as he’d worked his way from Glacier Park to here. He had promised. He was going to do this.
At first light, Lee was back on the road. He decided to avoid goodbyes and just get started. He didn’t want to get his emotions any more involved here than they already were. He headed west toward the Idaho border. He planned to start his search with a small lake just northeast of the border crossing at Lookout Pass, then start working his way back toward St. Dubois.
CHAPTER EIGHT: SEARCH INTERRUPTED
A nother long month went by. Lee hiked into the vast Montana mountains time and time again, always without finding the elusive lake. Then one day, as he hiked back to where his car was parked on an old logging road, he realized that he had finally worked his way east to within a few miles of St. Dubois.
He was tired, dirty, and discouraged. He had hiked literally hundreds of miles and looked at countless lakes, many of which were just spring-fed ponds, but had found nothing. None of them could possibly be the lake in the picture. He was starting to doubt its existence. But he had promised and that promise was sacred in his mind. He started the car and headed down the mountain toward St. Dubois, where he rented a cabin and promptly fell into bed fully clothed.
Lee slept for over twelve hours that night, but when he awoke he was still in a miserable frame of mind. The search for the lake had seemed so easy when he had first conceived it back in Pennsylvania. But back then he hadn’t realized how big Montana really was and how many miles he would walk without results. He had worn out a pair of work boots and had hiked countless miles across mountains that seemed to always be taller than he could hope to climb. Yet not a single lake had resembled the one in the painting.
Shaking the sleep and discouragement from his mind, he showered and changed into clean clothes. Then he headed across the highway to the truck stop for breakfast. He looked forward to seeing the people there, but somehow also dreaded it. He knew they’d want to know where he’d been for the past month and he just didn’t know how toexplain his search in a way that would make sense. But he was hungry and there weren’t many culinary options available in St. Dubois.
He hadn’t even reached the little café before he was stopped by a shout. “Lee! Dammit, I’m glad to see you!” It was big Ray, almost running from his garage toward Lee. “We’ve been looking high and low for you. Sheriff Rose has an all-points bulletin out on you! Where on earth have you been?” The words were moving even faster than Ray.
Lee stopped, taken aback by this verbal barrage. After a moment, he replied. “Up in the mountains. Why? What’s the sheriff want me for?”
By now Ray had reached him and enveloped him in a huge bear hug as he replied. “You’re a key witness in the trial of that ass that tried to rob us and the trial is coming up soon. There’s been a lot of developments on that and you’re the only independent person who was there that night. Without you, it’s just Dawn’s word against Willy Gohmert’s and there are people who are claiming Willy didn’t do anything wrong that night! They’re saying that we staged this whole thing for publicity.”
“What?
That evening, Lee stayed in his little cabin and studied the maps Kurt had given him. It was a discouraging effort as he began to realize how big the task was that lay before him. In just the northwestern quarter of Montana, he counted over sixty lakes. Many would take days to reach by car and foot. But, he reassured himself, he had already looked at almost half of them as he’d worked his way from Glacier Park to here. He had promised. He was going to do this.
At first light, Lee was back on the road. He decided to avoid goodbyes and just get started. He didn’t want to get his emotions any more involved here than they already were. He headed west toward the Idaho border. He planned to start his search with a small lake just northeast of the border crossing at Lookout Pass, then start working his way back toward St. Dubois.
CHAPTER EIGHT: SEARCH INTERRUPTED
A nother long month went by. Lee hiked into the vast Montana mountains time and time again, always without finding the elusive lake. Then one day, as he hiked back to where his car was parked on an old logging road, he realized that he had finally worked his way east to within a few miles of St. Dubois.
He was tired, dirty, and discouraged. He had hiked literally hundreds of miles and looked at countless lakes, many of which were just spring-fed ponds, but had found nothing. None of them could possibly be the lake in the picture. He was starting to doubt its existence. But he had promised and that promise was sacred in his mind. He started the car and headed down the mountain toward St. Dubois, where he rented a cabin and promptly fell into bed fully clothed.
Lee slept for over twelve hours that night, but when he awoke he was still in a miserable frame of mind. The search for the lake had seemed so easy when he had first conceived it back in Pennsylvania. But back then he hadn’t realized how big Montana really was and how many miles he would walk without results. He had worn out a pair of work boots and had hiked countless miles across mountains that seemed to always be taller than he could hope to climb. Yet not a single lake had resembled the one in the painting.
Shaking the sleep and discouragement from his mind, he showered and changed into clean clothes. Then he headed across the highway to the truck stop for breakfast. He looked forward to seeing the people there, but somehow also dreaded it. He knew they’d want to know where he’d been for the past month and he just didn’t know how toexplain his search in a way that would make sense. But he was hungry and there weren’t many culinary options available in St. Dubois.
He hadn’t even reached the little café before he was stopped by a shout. “Lee! Dammit, I’m glad to see you!” It was big Ray, almost running from his garage toward Lee. “We’ve been looking high and low for you. Sheriff Rose has an all-points bulletin out on you! Where on earth have you been?” The words were moving even faster than Ray.
Lee stopped, taken aback by this verbal barrage. After a moment, he replied. “Up in the mountains. Why? What’s the sheriff want me for?”
By now Ray had reached him and enveloped him in a huge bear hug as he replied. “You’re a key witness in the trial of that ass that tried to rob us and the trial is coming up soon. There’s been a lot of developments on that and you’re the only independent person who was there that night. Without you, it’s just Dawn’s word against Willy Gohmert’s and there are people who are claiming Willy didn’t do anything wrong that night! They’re saying that we staged this whole thing for publicity.”
“What?
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