A Lake Powell Winter Sojourn

LAKE POWELL IN WINTER

If possible, I shun cold climates. So when my sometime hiking companion Gary Ladd suggests a winter sojourn on Lake Powell, I experience mixed emotions. To me, that magnificent reservoir - jade-green, 186 miles long, confined in convoluted red sandstone canyons under skies that are almost always purest blue - is one of planet Earth's most gorgeous offerings. It's a place I've often visited during warm months. But... in winter? In northern Arizona?

I inform Gary that just hearing the song “Jingle Bells” (Dashing through the snow....) makes me shiver, even if I am snug in a warm room.

He says, “We'll take a houseboat 50 feet long with cozy bunks, double beds, wall heaters, cook stove, and oven. Even a hot shower.” Then he hits me with the zinger: “During the winter season, rental rates on Lake Powell houseboats are 40 percent less than in summer months. Besides, if you want a houseboat in summer, you need to make reservations more than six months in advance. Right now, you can walk in off the pier and rent one."

Suddenly the temperature soars at Lake Powell. "Let's go," I say.

Gary's home is on a high ridge in the town of Page, overlooking Lake Powell. In mid-January when we step from his front door to head for Wahweap Marina and our houseboat, I glance at the large thermometer on his front porch. At 9:00 A.M. it stands at 22° F. Forty miles to the east, 10,388-foot Navajo Mountain, with drifts of snow eight feet deep on its northern slopes, looks ominously cold.

The sandstone cliffs and massive buttes of Lake Powell are themselves dressed in several inches of white.

But, shortly, I encounter a surprise. As the houseboat, towing Gary's powerboat, moves smoothly across the mirror surface of the lake, I step to the aft deck. It is alalmost warm.

In a deck chair, face turned toward the sun, I'm lulled by the glow and the gentle As we slide beneath red cliffs, treated to an ever-changing view, the temperature rises to an even more delightful noontime 45°.

movement of the boat. Perhaps I should mention that I'm wearing a jacket over two sweatshirts.

As we slide beneath an ever-changing view of red cliffs, the temperature rises to an even more delightful noontime 45°. On some winter days, the thermometer may rise into the high 50s. Inside, the houseboat is toasty warm.

In addition to Gary and me, passengers are Jack and Joanne Ford of Scottsdale and Rich Oliver, who works at the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff. We'll be joined later by some of Gary's friends from Page.

We move slowly to the northeast, following the lake's main channel. Carved across millennia by the powerful rush of the Colorado River, it holds water that frequently is more than 500 feet deep. We pass the awesome cliffs where robed actors stood for the shooting of scenes of Hollywood's biblical epic, The Greatest Story Ever Told. We slide by immense buttes that protrude from the water, bearing such names as "Cookie Jar," "Gunsight," "Dinosaur." Fifty miles from our starting point, and under the shadows of late afternoon, we leave the main channel and enter Forbidding Canyon. Gary, who has explored the Lake Powell/Glen Canyon region for more than 15 years (See Arizona Highways, May '77), guides the houseboat into a narrow cliff-confined inlet where we secure it to a beach of red sand. The winter sun drops quickly behind the vertical ramparts of stone. While Joanne fills the houseboat with the aroma of stir-fried chicken, I step outside. A vertical view reveals the shining coin of a full moon 239,000 miles away, but, on the horizontal plane, the cliffs restrict my view to no more than 50 earthly yards in all directions. Shortly, a sleek powercraft pulls alongside the houseboat. Out of it step Ada Hatch and Jean Schwarz, Gary's schoolteacher friends from Page whose departure was detained by Friday afternoon classes. Ada's husband, Jim, is laid up with a virus, but he has sent along a pot of his locally famous Chili Verde Stew, tomorrow evening's peppery feast. Early the next morning, we take the powerboats to the point in Forbidding Canyon where lake and land meet, then strike out upstream on foot, following the icy path of Aztec Creek. Our destination is about three miles distant where a steep incline of slick-rock bears the carved toeholds and handholds of the ancient Anasazi. At the top of the formation are indecipherable petroglyphs created by those vanished early inhabitants. But the final ascent depends on the lingering remains of earlier snow. “If there's snow on the slick-rock, we probably can't go up,” Gary tells us.

In a land so rugged that it was the last area in the United States to be mapped completely, we finally reach a crossing point that requires the added safety of ropes for the climb down to the creek bed. The ascent on the other side is nearly vertical.

Beyond is the slick-rock, and it is, indeed, covered with a thin layer of snow. Jean volunteers an ascent. But 15 feet up the slanting face of rock is the high point of her climb, and she slides bumpily to the bottom. The mysterious petroglyphs will have to wait.

The following day, we take out the powerboats again, this time racing off to Rainbow Bridge. This massive span, 290 feet high, is the largest natural stone arch in the world.

After everyone's taken photographs, we hike to a narrow side canyon and the crumbling site of Echo Camp. Here Theodore Roosevelt, Zane Gray, and other early visitors stopped to rest weary limbs on the way to Nonnezoshe, the “rainbow turned to stone.” Before Glen Canyon Dam was completed and Lake Powell filled in the late '60s, the only land route to the arch was a treacherous 40mile horseback ride from the distant trading posts at Oljeto and Kayenta on the Navajo Indian Reservation. (See Arizona Highways, Feb. '84) Returning, we descend to the creek bottom and follow it back to the boats past dramatic displays of hanging icicles (some nearly 10 feet in length) and frozen waterfalls.

Late in the afternoon, Ada, Jean, and Rich return to Page. The next day, Gary takes the rest of us on a powerboat tour of an arm of the lake fed by the Escalante River, which wends its way down from the high country. On the way, we pass Hole in the Rock, the point where, in 1879, a group of pioneers heading south through nearly impassable terrain spent (OPPOSITE PAGE) Ada Hatch, left, and Jean Schwarz explore the canyon below Rainbow Bridge, the world's largest natural rock span.

(LEFT) Jack Ford holds an inch-thick sheet of ice taken from the lake in Willow Canyon.

(BELOW) At the lake's edge in Indian Creek Canyon, Ford, left, and his wife, Joanne, examine a curtain of icicles.

Six weeks lowering their wagons down a narrow cleft in the canyon wall.

The arm of the Escalante, rarely more than a few hundred yards wide and bordered by soaring sandstone formations, is hushed and winter still, the water so smooth and the reflections so crisp it is almost impossible to tell where cliffs end and water begins.

Now well into our fourth day on Lake Powell, we have seen two National Park Service patrol boats but not a single private craft. At the height of the summer season, upwards of 3,500 boats a day churn up Lake Powell. But we will not encounter a single recreational soul during our five days on the water. The lake and its impressive solitude belong to us.

We explore side canyons and narrow inlets. One of them, Willow Canyon, is so narrow and shadowed that it is spooky. Near the upper end, we are stopped by an inch-thick sheet of ice on the water. The wake of the powerboat, as it continues on, is turbulent enough, though, to break it up. The cacophonic snapping The side canyon is narrow and shadowed. The cacophonic snapping and screeching of the ice is equivalent to the lament of goblins.

(ABOVE) Jack Ford climbed a steep canyon wall to stand beneath the immense La Gorce Arch in Davis Gulch.

and screeching of the ice is equivalent to the lament of goblins. I'm glad when we return to the sunbathed channel.

In Davis Gulch, we cruise past La Gorce Arch, a huge eroded window in a massive cliff. Later, after numerous twists and turns, we have circled to its upstream side. Jack climbs nearly a hundred feet up the steep face to pose in the arch for our cameras.

Farther up the main canyon, we pass the remains of an Anasazi cliff village, where crumbling walls house the silence of centuries.

But, by far, my favorite place on the Escalante arm is a short strip of red beach at the base of a sheer south-facing cliff. In early afternoon, the sun, reflecting off the cliff, spills onto the sand below. I flop down on the beach, fold my arms behind my head, and let the brilliant rays warm my chilled face. I could remain here through the afternoon, but, the others, not so needy of warmth, persuade me to return to the boat.

Day five is spent leisurely guiding the houseboat on a generally southwesterly course back to Wahweap Marina. Seated on the aft deck again, I note that our last day is distinctly warmer than the previous four. Even the snow on the shaded areas of the surrounding buttes seems benign. I know what's happening: the sun, the jade-green waters, and the massive rock formations are conspiring to lure me back. It's an easy job.

day is distinctly warmer than the previous four. Even the snow on the shaded areas of the surrounding buttes seems benign. I know what's happening: the sun, the jade-green waters, and the massive rock formations are conspiring to lure me back. It's an easy job.

Scenic Video: Actor William Shatner narrates Lake Powell and the Canyon WHEN YOU GO

Country, an exciting hour-long Arizona Highways video that explores the countless coves and inlets of this water-recreation wonderland. For information and to order, telephone toll-free 1 (800) 543-5432. In the Phoenix area, call 258-1000.

Getting there: The Wahweap recreational village, with marina, motel, restaurants, launch ramp, campgrounds, RV park, and numerous vacation-related services, is located on the shore of Lake Powell's Wahweap Bay, six miles from Page. To reach Lake Powell from Phoenix, take Interstate 17 north to Flagstaff, then U.S. Route 89 to Page. Distance from Phoenix is 282 miles.

For more information: For lodging or boat rentals inside Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, telephone 1 (800) 528-6154. For accommodations in the community of Page, contact the Page Chamber of Commerce, Box 727, Page, AZ 86040; (602) 645-2741. For general information on the Lake Powell area, contact the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, Box 1507, Page, AZ 86040; (602) 645-8404.

The Friends of Arizona Highways offers Photo Workshops for picture takers of all skill levels among the state's scenic wonders. Our premier photographers lead the tours and are assisted by experts from Kodak, Nikon, and Hasselblad. Scenic Tours also are available.

PHOTO WORKSHOPS

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FRIENDS SCENIC TOURS

SCENIC TOURS WITH RAY MANLEY

Led by a premier Arizona Highways contributing photographer, these trips are organized primarily for mature adults.

For information and to make reservations, telephone the Friends' Travel Desk, (602) 271-5904.

ARIZONA ROAD ATLAS

Plan your next weekend getaway or family vacation with this invaluable traveler's aid. An easy-to-use, takealong book, the newly revised state road atlas includes 17 detailed, full-color regional maps, mileagedistance grids, and street maps for 27 Arizona cities. Major points of interest also are highlighted. The 56page, softcover edition of Arizona Road Atlas is $4.95, plus shipping and handling. Order through the attached order card, or write or visit Arizona Highways, 2039 West Lewis Avenue, Phoenix, AZ 85009. You can place telephone orders by calling toll-free nationwide 1-800-543-5432. In the Phoenix area, call 258-1000.