After picking up my resupply package in the Marina, and realizing that there is not only no town, restaurant or even Campground there, but also no water in this section of Lake Powell, I hitchhike up to Tikaboo lodge. I am so excited to get a shower and wash my clothes, that I just book a room there.
The shower is the most amazing thing, and even though I have the regional drought in the back of my head, I can’t help but to shower long and thoroughly. Next up are my clothes and I feel like a queen, when I am finally dressed up in fresh pants and shirt.
I go for a stroll around the premises in the afternoon and find it to be quite a strange but somehow interesting place.
The Lodge is probably full in summer, with space for something like 400 people I suppose, but now there are only four guests here.
Two of them are Cherie and Jim, an older couple from up in Salt Lake. They regularly come down here to go fishing on Lake Powell. After chatting a little bit, they invite me to have supper with them in their room.
Cherie preps a roast in the microwave, tosses some greens and they invite me to sit in their lazy boy chair. To me, it is like a festive feast after my days in the desert. We chat about politics, climate change and religion and in the end they invite me to come fishing with them in the morning.
People prepare their houseboats for Lake Powell here. They look like trucks floating on the water down at the lake.