VanillaIceCream
Well-Known Member
I was thinking...one of my favorite times at Lake Powell was February 1977 at the Rincon.
We woke up to a blizzard. My dad measured the snow depth, 18" on the back deck of the houseboat.
We had to stay an extra day.
I built a snowman on the beach.
No heater in the houseboat, so my mom boiled water on the stove to keep us warm, wasn't that cold to me anyway.
Dad taught us to play poker.
My sister and I loved that we might miss a day of school.
Nobody else on the lake.
I miss that kind of solitude.
We woke up to a blizzard. My dad measured the snow depth, 18" on the back deck of the houseboat.
We had to stay an extra day.
I built a snowman on the beach.
No heater in the houseboat, so my mom boiled water on the stove to keep us warm, wasn't that cold to me anyway.
Dad taught us to play poker.
My sister and I loved that we might miss a day of school.
Nobody else on the lake.
I miss that kind of solitude.