Powell Rundown (Pt. 1)

If you've been there, well...there's nothing I can say, cause you just know. If you haven't...what?! Why?! Go!!!!!!!

DAY 1 - Wow....Utah is so beautiful. God's country. The extended winter and rainy spring has made our deserts bloom. The perfect scenery for a long solo drive...belting along with my favorite CDs, of course. Good thing I was on such a high when Ranger Roberts ticketed me for speeding. Was I, yes. 6 miles over the limit. Boo.

I shook it off and met the boys at the beach just like we planned and we were off to the houseboat as the boys entertained me with stories of the previous night's vomit (2 of my nephews).

It wasn't long before the night was shattered by a scream from the oldest of my nephew. His forehead caught the edge of an oar and there was an emergency boat ride to shore for stitches. The remaining Denney's gathered around on the top deck for some fun catching up as we waited for the patient to return.

DAY 2 -We set out early on the ski boat, but the "perfect spot" for a houseboat caught our eye just around the corner from our current spot so a few of us were dropped off on shore to hold the spot while the rest of the crew went back to pull anchors and relocate the whole production. I won't pretend that I did much more than catch mad rays the rest of the day.

We were treated with a visit from "Meekus" in the evening. Meekus is the Lake Powell monster that eats naughty children. Fortunately, our kids had all been obedient...mostly...and we were spared a monster feast.

DAY 3 - A few of us took off for some tubing in the mid-morning. As we started up the boat, there was a weird beeping noise and we took some time to check fluids and make sure there were no problems. We didn't get far from camp before we saw 8 foot swells and a dust cloud. An enormous chunk of canyon wall had come sliding down into the lake. We were torn between pulling in the tubers and getting out of danger's way. Big credit goes to my bro who maneuvered through the swells to get the boat, passengers, and tubers back to calmer waters. We raced back to camp to check on the houseboat only to find them in panic and screaming "TSUNAMI" (aka "Salami!"). The water had receded from the shore and there was a panic about equipment damage. Once we confirmed that we and our neighbors were safe, it became just a really cool thing to have witnessed.

That evening John and Christy hosted a Jersey Shore dinner with an Italian feast and a mandatory Guido/Guidette hairstyle for all. We followed it up with mafia style minute-to-win-it. Good times!

There was a teenage boy with us who had been fighting a headache all day...just as we settled in to our sleeping bags for the night, he started puking over the side of the houseboat...every 30 minutes...like clockwork. It was impossible to sleep through. And then it escalated when a 2nd teenage boy joined the puke party...but he was off by 15 minutes...and he puked with less finesse...the sound effect reminded me of a demon exorcism. John hadn't realized that a second guy had joined the efforts and by morning was concerned that the kid might have died from so much violence!

(to be continued...i'm sleepy...still working off the lake powell jet lag i guess?)