The morning is incredibly foggy. I decide to head out through Juno and Brule, but not having been that way before, I'm a bit hesitant in the fog. I figure by the time I make it to the big lake, the fog will have lifted, and the shape of Vern and Juno makes getting lost quite difficult (famous last words?). So I head northwest to Juno. A few feet off shore, I'm completely enveloped in fog.  I can't see either shoreline. I've never been in fog this dense before.

But...this is Vern Lake. There's nowhere to get lost, so I meander northwestish in a creepy, surreal world. Time passes, and eventually I'm at the end of the lake. Portage into Juno, head east, and it's more of the same, though the rising sun lets me know I'm heading in the correct decision, and the tops of the trees are just starting to poke their heads through the fog.

By the time I get to Brule, the fog is mostly gone, though it's lingering the bays and small wisps of it are wafting over the water. I've been on Brule a few times now, and each and every time it's been like glass. This morning is no exception. The lake is big and beautiful...there's little I like more than paddling a canoe on flat-calm big water. I'd hate to be fighting this old Penosbscot in the wind on this lake, but I'm lucky. If it had been a windy morning, I just would've exited the way I entered.

I land at Brule and start walking to the car at Homer. Guess what? I forgot my car keys in the bag, so I head back and get them. The car starts, I drive to Brule, and get loaded and on the way. 

I'm sorry for the lack of photos, but I'm sure you can guess why. I forgot my camera/phone in the car.