We threw the anchor straps into the shallows. The sand was that impossible orange-pink color. Within an hour, a floating city had formed. Kayaks were launched. The inflatable flamingo pool float was, regrettably, inflated. And the cliff—oh, the cliff. A 45-foot red sandstone slab sloping gently into water that was a terrifying 58 degrees.
The highlight wasn't the cliff jumping—though jumping from a forty-foot ledge into the frigid, glass-still water certainly woke us up—it was the night the wind picked up. A "monsoon-lite" blew through the canyon at midnight. We all had to scramble onto the roof in our sleeping bags to keep the gear from blowing into the abyss. We ended up staying awake until 4:00 AM, huddled together, watching a lightning storm miles away illuminate the Navajo Mountain silhouette. Unscripted- Spring Break Lake Powell -2018-
One of the defining features of was the water level. Because the reservoir was high, we were able to squeeze Houseboat #3 (the decrepit one we called "The Rust Bucket") all the way into West Canyon . We threw the anchor straps into the shallows