Lake Powell

This past weekend we took a quick trip to Lake Powell (Wednesday afternoon to Friday evening). We pulled our old tent trailer and brought some 3 man rafts with oars (in place of our inherited '76 Bellboy heavy boat and paying for gas). The weather was (upper 90's) warm and we enjoyed the sun, water, and time together. The children enjoyed rafting out to a rock on a pinnacle (also coined "Bird Poop Island" because the raven's roost there). We listened to dad's memories of Powell as a child and the silly dives they used to do in the name of a made up diver "Fred Louganis," not to be confused with Greg Louganis. We ate instant oatmeal, roasted marshmallows and roasted hot dogs over a fire with willow branches...(Okay, actually mom roasted all the hot dogs on the "wow this is way too hot and too much work for food" bonfire), learned Chinese Checkers, scrambled after "speedy green lizards" (whip tail skinks) and read Angie Sages fourth book, Queste and Clare B. Dunkles' The Sky Inside. Even with car treats and DVDs, Miss R declared that the five hour ride was "boring!" I guess childhood road trips, with or without technology, seem too long and to adults the vacation is too short!