Arizona’s Beach Front Property

By Lindsay DeChacco

An intrepid drizzle plagues my first experience at Lake Powell. It begins as I hike the short distance from the  dock at Rainbow Bridge to view one of Powell’s most photographed, and consequently recognizable, attractions: Rainbow Bridge National Monument.

Spanning 275 feet, the sandstone structure is the largest natural bridge in existence. As I approach, the grand arch obediently rises to 290 feet before me, but no golden sunshine greets me at the end of this rainbow. 

Photo buffs wait in vain for some rays to irradiate the sacred Navajo site, or an arcing rainbow to superset its namesake monument. As hopes of a dazzling photo op drain away, shutterbugs begin to shift their thousand dollar lenses onto unsuspecting onlookers hunched beneath Big Bird-yellow ponchos and plastic trash bags.

In more temperate moods, Lake Powell has happily played the artist’s muse. Straddling the border between Utah and Arizona, she is the unearthly beauty that captures the imaginations of filmmakers, flirts with photographers, lures fishermen and delights the rest of her admirers with stunning scenery and endless recreation.

A few hours later, we snake through the narrowing passageways of Cathedral Canyon until the rocky encasement hedges us in and clunks against either side of our small powerboat. In the drizzle, fledgling waterfalls begin to crest down the top tiers of the towering rock layers. The canyon walls, smooth and free of vegetation, are basted with a grain-like mineral patina that glistens in the rain.

It’s this stoic and spiritual scenery that has telescoped Lake Powell through time to stage everything from biblical tales to sci-fi classics. At not yet 50 years old, she has starred in movies, graced the covers of countless magazines and stirred her share
of controversy.

In 1968, Powell’s stark landscape portrayed the simian-dominated otherworld in the original Planet of the Apes. Earlier still, in 1965, she was filmmakers’ stand-in for the Holy Land when they filmed the Greatest Story Ever Told on her shores.

More recently, Lake Powell set the scene for Jodie Foster and Mel Gibson’s pointed repartee and cat-and-mouse games in the elaborate 1994 remake of Maverick. And Christian Slater chased John Travolta among her rocky outcroppings in a race to avert certain nuclear disaster in 1996’s Broken Arrow.

Though the lake itself did not exist half a century ago, its receptacle, Glen Canyon, bears the imprints of the ancient world. Indian ruins, petroglyphs and dinosaur fossils all contribute to Powell’s aura of a prehistoric land.

Dismissed in 1858, one of its early explorers Lt. Joseph C. Ives called it a “profitless locality,” “intended by nature to be forever unvisited and undisturbed.” However, 100 years later, Glen Canyon experienced an unprecedented spike in popularity, catching the eye of both environmentalists and the US Bureau of Reclamation and inciting a stand-off worthy of its spaghetti-western backdrop. All the ingredients were present for a top-notch this-canyon-ain’t-big-enough-for-the-both-of-us showdown: determined rivals, a coveted property — add water and stir it up.

They did, about 500 feet of water. After the construction of the Glen Canyon Dam in 1963, Lake Powell began to fill amidst the protest of conservationists loath to see Glen Canyon’s natural and archeological treasures submerged. Nevertheless, over the course of 17 years, the dam continued to siphon water from the Colorado River and Lake Powell reached full-pool status in 1980.

Today, Lake Powell draws 2 to 3 million visitors every season. Water has lent Glen Canyon’s scenic and cultural riches, at least those that break the surface, greater accessibility than Ives could have possibly imagined one and a half centuries ago. Sparing not a single creature comfort, modern day visitors admire ancient petroglyphs from the decks of luxury houseboats, and motor their way among Powell’s 96 breathtaking canyons in smaller speed boats.

The town of Page ushers visitors to the Arizona shores of Powell. Belying its status as gateway to this international playground, Page is a modest burg where the churches congregate along the same street and a familiar Wal-Mart is probably the biggest
business around.

From Page, visitors can contract a tour guide to take them to Upper Antelope Canyon, whose unremarkable exterior also belies what is to be found inside. The slot canyon’s sandstone walls are frozen in smooth spiraling ripples and the shafts of sunlight that spear the sandy canyon floor are invisible until they are painted in dancing iridescence by kicked up dust. Oddly familiar, even on your first visit, Upper Antelope Canyon is another frequent resident of the bimonthly glossy, a familiar face whose name and address are less recognizable.

The Lake Powell Resorts and Marinas, managed by Aramark, provide lakeside lodgings, houseboat and powerboat rentals to Powell’s visitors. The resort restaurant, the Rainbow Room, much like the like-named Manhattan restaurant, offers panoramic views and delectable cuisine prepared by Chef Brandon Shubert. However, the atmosphere leans toward the casual, featuring a Kokopelli- and Anasazi-inspired décor over deco chandeliers.

The rooms at the resort are also markedly unprententious, equipped with some trendily green elements, such as built-in shampoo and conditioner dispensers in lieu of individual bottles. A few of the rooms have been renovated to be 100 percent environmentally friendly.

An international staff and guest roster lend the lodge a cosmopolitan flavor. Whether visitors are enjoying the breakfast buffet, lounging poolside or admiring views of the lake, a pleasant conglomeration of accents adds spice to the hum of ambient
conversation.

Despite the lodge’s charms, houseboats garner the greatest interest among visitors.
The 75-foot Odyssey-class, the marina’s largest model, sleeps 12 and features a host of luxury amenities including a gourmet kitchen complete with stocked refrigerator, fireplace, home theater system, central air and heating, a hot tub and a slide.

Most of the houseboats putter along Powell’s 1960 miles of shoreline carrying a flotilla of watercraft in their wake, hauling enough ammo in their arsenal to round out hour after sun-drenched hour with kayaking, skiing, wakeboarding and fishing. But even with all this available to delight and distract, there are still moments when the well-trodden destination manages to transcend its trappings.

After dusk, the rocky buttes and plateaus paint geometric shadows in the dim moonlit horizon and everyone gathers around a glowing bonfire that spits sparks into the crisp night air; the waves lap in the distance and thoughts are unleashed to volley between the abstract and the absurd.

Here, the majesty and magic of Lake Powell unfold equally before rich and poor; a bag of marshmallows  rivals gourmet cuisine and even the finest of houseboats can’t compare to a sandy cove with the clear heavens stretched endlessly overhead, inviting visitors to remain forever beneath their starry canopy.

Photo courtesy of Aramark/Lake Powell Resorts and Marinas