When the Glen Canyon Dam was built in the early sixties, an enormous reservoir was created behind its 216 meters of concrete. This pool of water is called Lake Powell, and stretches 300 km to the east and it has turned the dry mountains and valleys into a desert fjordland; some open stretches of water and some endless, narrow gorges that appear like still rivers.
We launched our pontoon boat at the Antelope launch ramp just east of town. There was a bit of traffic on the water; mostly the big rental houseboats, many with a jet ski or two resting on the stern, but also a few speedboats, restlessly coming in or moving out. We got our motor started and eased out at a slow pace. This part of the lake is just a long, water filled canyon - the banks aren't very high, but we could soon see ocher red mesas and ridges, and some more pointed tops, like the temples of the Grand Canyon.
Yo was the captain, Stu was the steward and the deck hands were brother John, his daughter Alex and myself. The speed was as laid back as the crew - this was recreation. The program for day #1 was: enjoy the scenery and the company, and find a nice spot to put up our tents for the first night. We would manage this.
After an hour or two we crossed over the widest part of the lake. First a bit up and down the canyon toward Padre Bay, but then back and across to the nearest bays on the northern shore. We passed around the sharp silhouettes of some small rocky islands, and we saiedl by the beautiful Cookie Jar Butte with its thin, striped blade. It towers majestically over rounded cliffs, golden in the afternoon sun. Across another inlet we found a long, nice and unoccupied beach for our landing. A wonderful small bay with a red mountain wall in the back and the Glen Canyon panorama filling our horizon. What a place for a swim, a grill and for contemplating the South West colour scape as the sun goes down and daylight fades.
The next day we made our way into the long, narrow Navajo Canyon, still moving slowly and gently. The canyon walls are like endless carvings, with wonderful lines and patterns guiding the way further into the desert landscape. At some places they're like faces, sternly watching the passers-by - old spirits of the ancient land. The water had a milky, emerald and turquoise tint, and in the Arizona sun we accepted the invitation to a short dip a couple of times.
