I snapped a few photos of Erik and Ben eating lard cubes, oh excuse me, french toast stix, Saturday and they said, “That will go on the blog for sure!”
Ben– “You have to write so that we know what we did!”
So here ya go. Sorry if it’s torture…
Halfway down to Powell we changed destinations to meet friends in the much bigger, posh end of the lake– Wahweap Bay.
What can I say? We are easily influenced.
Gabriel packed exactly two bouncy balls, froggy, his nerf gun and the bullet.
“Oh, I’m not planning on getting in the water.”
Erik and the boys contructed a fabulissimo tent over the past few weeks. They could hardly wait to set it up. It’s niiiiiiiiiiiiice.
Sadly, only one night was spent in our magnificent homemade tent. Windstorms drove us into a tiny motel room one night and our friend’s luxury houseboat the other. We wandered around the houseboat in a daze– not one, but three flush toilets, air conditioning, big screen TVs, 3 refrigerators… our friends called us cheapskates, hicks and country bumpkins. We could only nod our heads and agree.
But it’s Lake Powell, and no matter what goes wrong, it’s absolutely perfect.