Our last day at the lake Dylan and I took to the water. Yellow paddle skimming over the water, the water was so clear that we could see right to the bottom. Swiss cheese rocks and buoys chained to the lake floor. As we paddled houses became further apart and money could be felt, no trespassing signs multiplied. As we turned the corner the shelf fell away, going from 10m below to 500m in an instant, we lurched with vertigo until we drifted further out and all we could see was darkness.

Ducks and other waterfowl lazily floated by us, paddle borders and a chain of fellow kayakers powered by a four lazy paddlers moving on the strength of the girl at the front. A yellow caterpillar, that was not going very far with the dead weight. As we turned the corner towards Incline Village shore we didn’t realise that we had ticked off another state, silently gliding over the State line into Nevada, our stay was short, arms beginning to ache we made our way back home.

The luxury of a stove awaited us there and Dylan spoilt us with homemade pizza. I tried to elevate our train journey of the next day with spelt thumbprint biscuits, but they tasted more like scones badly in need of cream. All was good as we packed and prepped for the 7am bus ride back to Trukee and beyond.