Havasu

At each bend in the river, I expected to find an amazing white-water rapid to do battle with, but at each bend there was nothing but disappointment. The hardest bit of work were the portage’s across riffles, dragging the canoe over the small rocky areas in an otherwise fairly deep stream.

By midday, I paddled my way into the opening of a large body of water. From where I entered, the shoreline on the other appeared to be nothing more than a pencil line in the horizon. I stayed close to shore because I didn’t have a life vest on and I was fearful of the speed craft, towing skiers, would inadvertently capsize my man-powered craft.

As I moved slowly along the western shoreline, my head was on a swivel. There were beautiful, bikini clad women in every direction I looked. There were fancy RV’s, nice boats, and the smell of the camp’s fire from one stroke to the next.

Finally, I slipped into an area between two large groups of people, dragging the canoe up onto the sandy bank. There I set myself to building a small fire and brewing some coffee.

A man, somewhat older than me, soon wandered over and we began to chat. Neil, I soon learned worked in the aerospace industry and was thinking about retiring. He planned to find a piece of acreage, build a house and spend the rest of his life on the river and lakes along the Colorado.

My story seemed less impressive, so I kept it to myself, other than to say something like, “I’m in between jobs and I figured that since I’m not getting any younger, I’d go explore and find some adventure while I could.” I found it pretty much satisfied his curiosity and he invited me to stop over at his set up later in the day, “if you’re still around.”

Late afternoon rolled in quicker than I thought it would, but then I’d been dozing on and off throughout much of the days heat. I could smell meat cooking and could see the barbecue smoking, so I grabbed my bar of Ivory soap and went for a quick dip in the lake.

“We’re heading up to Laughlin tomorrow morning,” Neil offered as his wife, Bess handed me a second beer. Bess laughed, “All this roughing it makes me long for civilization.”

She had been a looker at one time, this I could see. I imagined her having won “Miss Orange Grove 1968,” or something as a teen. Still she could sport a two-piece bathing suit with the best of them and I don’t think either Neil or Bess cared who was watching as they played ‘grab ass,’ with each other throughout the evening.

After a thick steak and a ton of mashed potatoes with gravy and nearly a six-pack of beer in my belly, I bid them goodnight and a safe trip to Nevada. I wandered over to my little nest and flopped down on my sleeping bag to stare up into the bejeweled night sky that covered the lake from one point to another like a carpet.

The sky was graying in the east when I heard Neil and Bess pull out of their space and crunch their way from the gravel and sand to the pavement for their trip northward. I laid there for a few more minutes thinking about Bess’ titties before I decided to jump in the lake and cool off.