St. Thomas is reappearing.  The little burg was abandoned and inundated to a depth of 25 feet when Lake Mead filled in the 30’s.  Over time the lake level has dropped and a ghost town of ruins has appeared.  A loop trail with well done signage winds through the old town site.  It is a great history lesson of early settlement along the trails West and the impact of Uncle Sam through infrastructure projects.

New sighting: this little fellow looks to have eaten recently and is just hanging out near the old school.  A picture in the visitor center identifies it as a glossy desert snake, harmless.

We had to visit the town of Overton while we were up that way.  Their troubles began as the lake level dropped taking with it the tourists and marina traffic it had brought to them.  Today it is a sleepy little place with a pretty good ice cream parlor, The Inside Scoop (we found it the last time we were in the area and tried out again today – Huckleberry Blue Bunny), a couple well stocked hardware stores, and a decent grocery.  We did our part to support the local economy; we restocked our frig and picked up a few things at the hardware store to support the ever-present maintenance projects.        

In the narrow lake area further south, lower water level left us with a bathtub ring on the cliffs high above our heads.   Up on this end, the valley that is now Lake Mead gets broad and the river cuts are much shallower so at the lower water level the pool is surrounded by miles of flat shore land streaked with green and dotted with marshes where the Virgin and Muddy rivers flow in.  It Is amazing how far the water receded.  Overton Beach, the Overton Marina and the town are all miles from water now.  In the quiet shallows (35-50 ft instead 150 ft deep and more) a flock of 100s of western grebes float and chatter and dip their heads in a graceful courtship dance.  White pelicans patrol the river inlet. 

Fishing is slow, only 2 bass and I didn’t even get mine into the boat.  Only two burros today too but they made up for small numbers in volume of their braying!  We are off the lake by noon.  The wind builds to the strongest yet.  Not a problem from camp but we are glad to be off the lake.

A solo loon, we rarely see them this far south.  His call was a pretty lonely sounding chirp not the locating warble call I love.  Cattle, who would have thought they would let them graze right up to the water’s edge of a potable water reservoir?  I guess it is no worse than the burros…. we saw probably 30 of them today and they all come to the lake for water.  They hide in the shadow at the base of a cliff in the heat of the day.  Smart fellows.  Oh yeah, we caught 8 fish today and enjoyed a long cool dip in the lake.

Lower lake levels have affected this access point too, of course. It is a long gravel road from camp to the launch ramp that winds past the old ramp and the original marina area.  It is all abandoned now high above the current water level.  They have installed a decent lower water ramp here and we have all the provisions and fuel that we need so it is working out just fine for us.

Day 1: we catch 6 fish trolling in bays just across the lake from camp – Kent 4, Lynn 2.  It is a bit choppy so we don’t run very far.  Wild burros provide some entertainment as they race across the rolling shoreline then settle in to quietly munch on whatever they can find.

Day 2:  No matter how early we get up it seems we can’t get on the water before 8 AM.  That still gives us plenty of time before the blazing SW sun runs us back to the shade.  We try a couple different bays but fishing is really slow – especially for me.  I catch nothing today.  Kent does a little better catching 2.  It is still and the lake glass-calm.  It is perfect for exploring cathedral cove, a steep walled bay, and for watching a huge flock of Western Grebes floating and chatting among themselves.  We take a lap on the open lake to cool off and enjoy the scenery.  First, we have to check out the raucous burros.  They are claiming territory or something and making quite the fuss.  We spot a band of 8 and a number of scattered individuals along the east shore across from camp.  I think these are the guys I have been hearing in the evenings.  As always, fun to watch.

 I saw a black tailed jackrabbit this morning…speedy fellow.

It is just across the lake but it is a 100 mile drive to Echo Bay; pas the dam, skirt Boulder City, then up the west shoreline.  The climb up from Temple Basin takes us across at least three places where yesterday’s rain filled washes to the point of carrying debris across the road.  The water has gone down but sand and gravel are evidence of the mini flashfloods.  No problem getting through, just a reminder of the effects of even a moderate storm. 

North Shore drive takes us across row after row of gray and green mountains.  In gashes cut by washes or other areas of heavy erosion the red-rock under layers are exposed like wounds in the hillsides.  It is amazing terrain.  Travels go well and we are settled in by lunch time and spend the rest of the day relaxing and exploring a bit.  It is windy again so we save our first foray out onto this part of the lake for tomorrow.   

It is too windy to boat but too nice to stay indoors.  We head out on a short nature trail that winds along the top of the mesa just outside of the campground with nice views of the lake.  Silver cholla are covered with delicate pale yellow blossoms.  Ash throated flycatchers dodge and dart after bugs stirred by the recent rain.  One proud parent swoops in with a butterfly hanging out both sides of its beak to deliver to a young one still on the nest.   Lark sparrows gather at the base of cactus.  It is a nice stroll after which we hang around camp this last day at Temple Bar.  There is always plenty to do.

Clear blue skies are magnificent but there is also something wonderful about gathering storm clouds; the whole new color pallet they bring and the swirling winds that propel them.  We wake to thick grey clouds on the horizon dropping sheets of rain between us and the mountains.  One line goes through leaving clear skies then another line forms.  We are at home not out on the lake so it is amazing-rather than frightening- to watch.  By evening we have full blown thunderstorms with lightening and hail.  The temperature drops to 60; practically frigid!  We did squeeze in a bit of a hike between storms. 

Never a washout day fishing.  Each day brought a few stripers and/or large mouth.  Not a bang-up week for fishing but no one else in camp did much better.

Trolling took us east through the narrow canyon cut by the Colorado as far as South Bay.  It is a beautiful ride between towering cliffs with narrow side bays.  The views have made up for the marginal fishing.  Dips in the 66 to 71F water have helped us through the 95F+ degree days.  It has been a good stay     

We hear a loud pop and a puff or white “smoke” rises out of the back corner of the boat.   We were at the time under a shade tree 30 ft away.    Seems the daytime high of 99F degrees with a bright sun was just too much for the boat air horn.  You know the kind used as an annoyance at stadiums.  It blew sinkers all over the boat but other than the container which contained the propellant nothing else was damaged.  Upon further inspection the can says maximum temp is 120F, opps!