Is the Ghost Town of Calico Truly Haunted?

In a proclamation signed by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger in 2005, the town of Calico actually became the Official State Silver Rush Ghost Town. Another old mining town, named Bodie a little further north along the 395, became known as the Official State Gold Rush Ghost Town.

Not sure where the Official State Bronze, Tin or Recycled Beer Can Ghost Towns are, but we will keep looking fervently. Actually, I’m not going to bother to look – except a recycled beer can ghost town could be fun. Probably a lot of happy spirits reside there. 

 With Halloween just around the corner, we wanted to see if there’s any truth to how haunted this once bustling mining town of Calico really was. Of course, when visiting such places in search of the paranormal, it is crucial never to trespass or do anything else which may be considered illegal or in poor taste. 

 An example of illegal would be, breaking and entering supposed haunted buildings, houses or other property. In poor taste, would be running down the street with a sheet over your head, screaming for ghosts to show themselves.

Of course, that may even be considered crazy. There are some pretty interesting hauntings going on in the little burg of Calico. I mean really interesting in the realm of: “OMG, there’s a ghosty right there. I can’t wait to Instagram my friends with this selfie, well, after I post what I had for lunch, of course.”

Laureen and I decided to take our four legged wards on an overnight camping trip to the historical 1881 silver mining town, but not before I made a sensible suggestion. “You know, we can leave them home. They are dogs, after all.” 

 Laureen looked at me solemnly. “They’ll miss us.” 

“For five minutes, and then they’ll be sleeping and drooling all over the furniture.” 

We loaded our four beasts into the motorhome, and we were off for the short jaunt to Calico. 

The San Bernardino County Park has plenty of spaces for camping large rigs, not so large rigs, tents, and even cabins for rent. Some guests haul out their off road toys and enjoy cruising the hills behind Calico looking at this or that. 

 When looking at this or that though, be mindful that there are open vertical mine shafts – those are the ones that go straight into the earth. 

Some of these old mines are not safe and very deep. So deep, that I’ve heard in one of them, colonies of trolls live, waiting for an unsuspecting off-roader to miscalculate and end up as a troll entre for dinner.

But seriously, when cruising anywhere abandoned mines are located – extreme caution should always be used. I travel off road a lot and am always on the lookout for dangerous road or trail conditions – and also groups of trolls. 

 So, we arrived at our camp site, set up everything, and made sure the doggies were well taken care of inside the motorhome – water, food, air conditioning, blinds closed, and Jimmy Buffet playing softly in the background. 

 The dogs had it so good, I wanted to stay and have a cold one, while listening to Margaretville. 

But Laureen was adamant. “Listen here, Buster. We’ve got ghosts to find.” 

 Funny thing, when we hit town, everyone wanted to talk to us about how haunted the place is. 

Mr. Anonymous had great stories to tell us. Ms. Anonymous had even better stories to tell us. Baby Anonymous had by far the greatest of all the stories. Sounds like something out of the Goldilocks fairy tale. 

Actually, when people talk about ghosts, unless they are high paid television paranormal types, they don’t want their name used in public. 

 “They’ll think I’m crazy,” stated a woman wearing a tin foil hat. 

 “I doubt you believing in ghosts will be the giveaway,” I replied. 

One story we heard about was a little girl who haunted the wooden bridge which spans a deep gulley near the one room schoolhouse.

The old school house located in Calico Ghost Town

Seems, as the tale goes, back in the late 1880’s, a school teacher had a young daughter – maybe ten or eleven years old. 

One day, tragically, the girl fell off a high cliff near the bridge and perished from her injuries. Ever since then, people claim this girl wanders the location of the bridge, talking to children. What she is saying, is very sad but sweet. 

According to many we spoke with, the ghostly little girl is warning the children to stay on the bridge, and to be careful about falling down the steep sides of the ravine. 

 Stranger, only children see her. Adults have had their children tell them that a young girl, dressed in a long white dress with a white bonnet, has been scolding them about the dangers of not looking when running and playing. Parents look, but to no avail. The ghost who cares is gone. 

 “Even my friends this year, told me their kids said this little girl approached them, warned them and then just disappeared,” Mr. “I don’t want to be identified” stated. 

And no, this person was not donning a tin foil hat. 

We walked across that bridge a thousand times. 

No ghostly apparition of a tyke in period clothing. I even crossed it a few times on my knees to make myself look smaller, in case I could outsmart the girl. No such luck, but, just because we adults didn’t see her, doesn’t mean she doesn’t exist. 

 “You have got to check out Hank’s Hotel.” Someone stated. 

“That place is really haunted. Doors slam shut when there is no wind. Things get tossed across the rooms. People used to stay there, but by dark, they were heading for their cars.” 

 “Really?” I asked. 

 “Would I lie to you?” 

 “I don’t know. You won’t even tell me your name.”

Hank's Hotel, supposedly haunted in Calico Ghost Town

The hotel was locked. 

Laureen and I peered through the windows. Nothing slammed. No things were thrown around the rooms. But that doesn’t mean the place isn’t haunted. 

 Another person with no name, told us that some shops in town have poltergeists. Those are the angry, or misunderstood ghosts that like to throw items at people, hitting them and sometimes causing injury. 

We walked through every store that was open, and the only thing which got hit, was my wallet. 

A store means purchasing in Laureen’s world. 

 The cemetery. Now, that had to be haunted. All those souls on boot hill. They couldn’t have been happy, and probably spent the evenings wandering around complaining to each other.

A cemetery plot in Calico Ghost Town

When it was plenty dark, we carefully and respectfully wandered the tombstones. 

Laureen thought she saw an eerie light floating toward us. 

Nope, just other tourists looking for a close encounter with a being from the after-life. 

 Is Calico haunted? Could be – but just not on our visit. But perhaps, if you drive out there – it just may be.

John can be reached at: Beyersbyways@gmail.com

Cottonwood Cove, a respite from the heat in Nevada

Entrance to Cottonwood Cove via the town of Searchlight, Nevada

One of the most memorable aspects of traveling is not the places visited, though that has a lot to do with the traveling, but the people you meet along the way.

I’ve been fortunate to meet famous folks, ordinary folks, and sometimes some unsavory folks along the byways. But all were wonderful in their own right.

Laureen, my lovely wife, and I decided recently to boat up to Cottonwood Cove Resort and Marina on Lake Mohave, approximately 35 miles north of Davis Dam on the Nevada side of the lake. We would leisurely cruise the blue waters of the Colorado River and spend the night at the Cottonwood Cove Motel along the shores of the marina.

Beautiful view of Lake Mohave from Cottonwood Cove

A wonderful way to spend a weekend. Sun, fun, and burning through a whole lot of fuel which made my wallet feel a lot lighter when we docked at the marina gas station.

“I bet we’re still a buck cheaper than Katherine Landing,” a young man said while pumping fuel into the tank on our boat.

“Yes, you are,” I replied not feeling any more chipper as I handed him a hundred and received no change back.

“Did you bring snacks?” I asked Laureen. “I don’t think we can afford the cafe for dinner.”

The winds had picked up about halfway along the trip and the lake often looked like a churning clothes washer. But we were out in the fresh air, tunes blasting away on the pontoon, and getting splashed by cold lake water was just part of the adventure.

Even with some pretty rough water, we made Cottonwood Cover in a little less than two hours and decided to chug further north to Nelson’s Landing on the Nevada side of the lake.

And this is where we encountered two young men who were in desperate need of help.

I wrote about the tragedy that had taken place on September 14th, 1974 when a monsoon west of the landing created a sudden flood which led to a 40-foot wave of water roaring through Nelson’s Landing, killing nine people.

Nelson Landing along the Colorado River

We had only seen the beach from the land and decided to take a gander at the site from the water's edge.

As we slowly pulled into the cove, which was packed with swimmers, Laureen noticed a young man frantically waving a white Frisbee at us.

I waved back.

“I believe he wants to talk to us,” Laureen said, with a slight shaking of her head in my direction.

Turns out two of their friends had paddled across the lake to the Arizona side, about a mile or more in distance, and had not returned. The choice of craft for the adventurers to cross some pretty rough water was a small inflatable raft with two short plastic paddles.

“It’s an orange raft and we lost sight of them,” the Frisbee-waving twenty-something yelled out to us from his perch on a high cliff.

A young woman beside him asked if we would mind going and looking for them. And off we went across the lake in search of a small orange raft.

Fast forward to the end.  We did locate the two boys on the Arizona side - Gavin and Westin - hefted the raft and them aboard our boat and drove them back across the lake to their very relieved friends on shore.

“I think I underestimated the river,” Gavin stated.

“Lots of folks do,” I replied, while Laureen draped a towel over Westin’s shivering shoulders. It may have been early May and the sun beaming from above but the water temperature is still in the mid-60s, which is pretty chilly when a person has been hanging onto the side of a flimsy raft for hours. 

We dropped the guys off and waved goodbye. Laureen laughed and asked if I had seen the t-shirt the girl had been wearing.

A white t-shirt with an arrow pointing to the left with the words, ‘I’m with stupid.’

“Probably should have made it plural,” I replied. Oh, the irony.

Actually, the two young men were just inexperienced. They were also very nice and appreciative. They wanted to know how they could repay us for saving them. Simple I advised, if they were ever out boating, return the favor and help someone else in need.

Good Karma is needed when on the water.

Nelson Landing, packed with sun worshipers

After doing our good deed for the day, we returned to Cottonwood Cove, tied off at a courtesy dock, and went to the store to see about a guest boat slip for the night.

And this is where we met a woman with an incredible sense of humor, by the name of Hope Full. “Yes, that’s my name.”

“Well, in that case, we are hopeful that a slip is available,” I replied.

“Never heard that one before,” Hope said, rolling her eyes just a bit. “Yes, Lisa called us this morning from Boulder Beach and reserved one for you.”

At this time, the manager came over and introduced himself. “I’m Mark Anthony, we exchanged emails about your trip here.”

Laureen turned her back to me. “Don’t say it.”

I smiled, “Is Cleopatra around?”

“Never heard that one before,” Mark said.

Mark is the manager at the resort and we did share some emails about Laureen’s and my plans for the weekend. He was awesome, as well as the entire team at Cottonwood Cove - helping us with anything we needed.

But this was not just a mini-vacation destination, there is a truly interesting history of this place.

Once long ago there, was a rather large island in the middle of the Colorado River named Cottonwood Island. This was before dams were built on the Colorado, forming Lake Mead, Lake Mohave, and Lake Havasu when steamboats navigated the wide river for nearly 500 miles. 

According to the-wandering.com, the island measured nearly ten miles long and three miles wide with a huge concentration of cottonwood trees. The river flowed around the island making access to it rather easy from either shore - Nevada or Arizona.

The Mohave people used the island for agriculture. Then mining began in the 1860s, and the cottonwood trees were felled to sell to the steamboats for fuel making their way to the local mining areas, bringing supplies and retrieving the ore for the smelters down south.

In 1867, the military placed a small outpost on the island to raise cattle, but in the same year, a flood wiped the camp out and drowned all the cattle. That experiment was not tried again, though miners would still graze their cattle from time to time on the island.

Eventually, with the construction of Davis Dam and the creation of Lake Mohave in 1951, the island disappeared for good under the blue waters. Nothing can be seen of this once popular and historic land mass.

We wandered a bit before our motel room was ready and saw families with and without boats enjoying the warm afternoon weather while taking dips in the cool waters along the two swimming areas near the marina.

The Cottonwood Cove Motel, plenty of room for guests

This resort within the Lake Mead National Recreation Area has something for everyone - though I still get confused with the name of the place, since we were on Lake Mohave. A large campground is available for those coming east from Searchlight, a cafe, general store, motel, houseboat rentals for long and short term, hiking trails galore and so much more.

Gorgeous beaches gazing over at the marinas

Cottonwood Cove was part of the Mission 66 project which was started by the National Park Service in 1955 as a way to enhance visitors' outdoor experience and originally followed Route 66 when more and more people hit the roads in their own jalopies. 

After checking into our room, we opted for an early dinner at the cafe, and as I sat looking out across the sandy beach, the softly blowing tall palm trees, the sparkling blue waters I knew what I was going to order.

“What are you having?” Laureen asked.

“No choice but to follow Jimmy Buffet’s advice,” I said. “A cheeseburger in paradise.”

And I did.

For more information: https://cottonwoodcoveresort.com/

In Search of Ernest Hemingway

One of John's most respected writers is Ernest Hemingway. The iconic writer led a larger than life existence. This sometimes raucous man seemingly had it all: fame and fortune. Hemingway experienced numerous lifetimes all wrapped up in one.

'Papa' Hemingway's framed photograph in his Key West home.

'Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.' Ernest Hemingway

The quotation above embodies the life of this writer - all lives end in death, but sometimes the way a person dies, does make them different from others. Hemingway proved that by choosing the manner of death, committing suicide on July 2nd, 1961 in Ketchum, Idaho.

Traveling the Florida Keys, allowed John and Laureen, to truly slow down and discover many things they had no idea existed. It's a laid back sort of lifestyle - the Keys. Beaches everywhere, bars and restaurants located alongside Highway 1, and the residents very friendly.

So, how does this driving end up with a blog on Ernest Hemingway? Well, it isn't really about him, but the influence he had in Key West, during the nine years he lived there full-time. Attention-getting was not something Hemingway had to work at, but attention was certainly something he got. As one of the world's best known writers, both short stories and novels, wherever he went, news soon followed.

As we drove through the city/key of Islamorada, we noticed a beautifully appointed Bass Pro Shop, located on the Overseas Highway (a fancy title for the 113 mile road, also known as Highway 1). Being fans of the chain (strange since neither of us have any interest in fishing), we stopped and ventured inside to have a look-see.

There, in the center of this huge outdoor sports supply mecca, stood a thirty-eight foot trawler with the name Pilar boldly emblazoned on it's hull. John instantly got goosebumps. It couldn't be...could it?

Looks like the Pilar!

Was this the Pilar, that Hemingway had built for his time in Key West? Turns out it wasn't, but a cleverly created duplicate (sister-ship), built at the same place and same boatyard as the true Pilar -  now located in a museum in Cuba. This boat is almost identical to the one Hemingway had owned - down to the same exact model typewriter the writer had used for most of his prose in the southern most city in the United States.

John at the keys of Hemingway's typewriter? In the Keys.

Not disappointed at all that this wasn't the exact boat, no, in fact, it only made John that more fired up to get to Key West and tour the house and haunts that Hemingway lived and visited.

Well, Laureen wasn't in that much of a hurry -
relax a bit on the veranda and then hit the road. Island Time.

Key West, is to Florida what New Orleans is to Louisiana, an eclectic group of stores, bars, restaurants, residences and residents. As mentioned in the previous blog, In Search of Jimmy Buffet, Key West is a must-see destination. It is crazy fun, with so much to see in the narrow streets bordered by the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico.

Hemingway thought so too when he moved with his wife, Pauline, and their newborn son, Patrick. It was here in Key West that the author found his true success in writing, knocking out nearly 70% of all his combined works. A Farewell to Arms, Death in the Afternoon, and Green Hills of Africa to name just a few of the great works he tapped out during his Key West Days. In fact, Hemingway was probably, according to research, one of the first American novelists to have his work appear on the silver screen. At least eleven of his novels and short stories were turned into block bluster films.

His own life was an ongoing film. Married four times, wounded in World War I as an ambulance driver, he had traveled the world and even lived in Paris with the likes of James Joyce, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, and the Fitzgeralds. He embarked on lengthy deep sea fishing and explorations of the Caribbean aboard the Pilar, went on Safari into Africa, wrote about bull runs in Spain. He was a reporter during the Spanish Civil War, and during World War II, earned the Bronze Star for his  journalistic work. Rumors and myths are still alive today, that Hemingway informally led a small platoon of soldiers at the retaking of Paris from the Nazis. He wasn't supposed to do that, being simply a journalist, but that couldn't stop Papa Hemingway. Adventure was in his blood - a few German soldiers were not likely to scare this man.

He won the Pulitzer Prize in 1952 and the Noble Prize in 1954. He did it all.

The house which the Hemingway family called home, is located at 907 Whitehead Street, a quaint and beautifully quiet section of Key West, just blocks from the sea which the writer loved so much. The white and black, two story abode rests comfortably on nearly an acre of land - the largest privately owned residential property on the island.

John, standing at the entrance to the Hemingway house

The house is stately, but not overly flashy. A place where the writer and his family would be comfortable and afford Hemingway a hidden oasis to write. His fame, and his drinking in town, especially at Sloppy Joe's, caused Hemingway to choose to have a tall wall built around the home. People would often just walk up to the front door to see Hemingway at all hours of the day or night. He needed his privacy.

How Hemingway looked while living in Key West

Office where Hemingway wrote

One truly interesting item about the house is the number of cats roaming freely. You'd think Hemingway, being muy macho and all that, would have a love for large beastly dogs. Nope. He liked cats - and they are everywhere about the home. He had been given a six toed feline when they first moved to Key West from a ship's captain. This first polydactyl (six-toed) feline was named Snowball - and all of Snowball's descendants, nearly 50 of them, still reside around the property.  There's even a kitty cemetery on the grounds.

Cats own the house and the master bed

When Hemingway had returned home from covering the Spanish Civil War, he found that Pauline had torn down his beloved rear yard boxing ring. In its place was the largest privately owned pool south of Miami.

It seemed, Pauline had learned that her husband had taken up with her friend, Martha Gellhorn during the Spanish Civil War, where Martha was also working as a journalist. So, as payback, Pauline had Ernest's boxing ring torn down and a pool put in.

The largest pool in the Florida Keys - of course

Not to be outdone, Hemingway got drunk at Sloppy Joe's, which was being remodeled and dragged a urinal all the way home in the dead of night. When Pauline saw it in the back yard, she asked what it was. He told her, "You have your pool, and now I have my own."

The urinal pool - laying sideways

The couple didn't last long after that, which was truly the way Hemingway's marriages usually went. Get married and get divorced. Interesting, he tended to marry the women who were introduced to him by his current wife at the time.

His first spouse, Hadley introduced Pauline to Ernest - soon there was an affair and a divorce. Pauline, his second spouse, introduced Martha to Ernest, soon there was an affair and a divorce. Martha, his third spouse, introduced Mary to Ernest, soon there was an affair but this time no divorce. Mary made sure not to introduce any of her female friends to Ernest - safer that way.

"I don't mind Ernest falling in love," Pauline once wrote, "but why does he always have to marry the girl when he does?"

So, the search for Ernest Hemingway in Key West was complete. We learned a lot more about the author than what was available simply in material research. We walked where he walked. We had a drink or two at his favorite watering hole, and learned why he had moved to Key West in the first place.

Key West is an Ernest Hemingway mecca for millions of his fans. His influence can be seen and felt throughout the city. There's even an annual Hemingway Days each July - many white-bearded gentlemen (not Santa) arrive, trying to look like the writer himself.

He  moved from Key West to Cuba in 1939, when he married Martha. He'd spent only nine years in the keys, but left an indelible mark nearly a hundred years later.

Though Ernest Hemingway was larger than life, in many ways, he was still simply a man. At the end, he was suffering from severe depression, the inability to write, and overall tiredness from an excess of adventures. Severely wounded during World War I, continual pain from two plane crashes, liver issues (hmmm, wonder why), weight issues, and other maladies collected, over a lifetime of abuse - both mentally and physically.

He lived life on his own terms, and on that summer morning in Ketchum, Idaho - he decided to go out on his own terms, as well.

As a tour guide stated at the Hemingway house - "We can't judge him for committing suicide. It was his choice, as was his entire life. He decided how and when the whole adventure would be over."

We may not agree - but then again, it's okay to agree to disagree.

For further information:

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Hemingway

https://www.hemingwayhome.com/

https://fla-keys.com/hemingway-days/

In Search of Jimmy Buffet

We'll find you, Mr. Jimmy Buffet - in Key West

One of John's dreams has always been to explore the Florida Keys. In the United States, keys are  spelled and pronounced keys whereas in many other parts of the world, such as the Bahamas or Turks and Caicos, these areas of land are spelled cays. Still pronounced keys, they are sandy, low-elevation islands poised on top of a coral reef.

In other words, Paradise.

There was such adventure awaiting this dynamic duo, once the plane landed on the tarmac at Miami International Airport.

Laureen at the Southernmost point
 on the Continental USA

First stop, pick up the rental Jeep Wrangler Unlimited. What else could two explorers select as their means of transportation while driving south over a hundred sixty miles to the most southern tip of the United States?  It was the second week of September - yes, mid-hurricane season in this part of the world - so, having the correct vehicle seemed wise.

The trip may have been cancelled if it had been planned for just a week earlier. That was when the powerful Hurricane Dorian, tore through the Bahamas, leaving behind unspeakable devastation and death. Luckily for the people of Florida, Dorian had turned north-east and only skirted the outer shores of the United States.

With that said, the people of the Bahamas remained in our hearts and prayers as we drove south in search of Jimmy Buffet, the poet, song-writer (and extremely wealthy businessman).

Of course we knew that Jimmy would not be sitting down with a couple of margaritas on a sandy beach on the Gulf of Mexico with us - but in search we went anyway.

Buffet and Key West are synonymous for being unique and resilient. Walking down Duval Street, the main thoroughfare in old Key West, only enhances the wonderful strangeness of the place. There are bars and more bars, stores selling anything and everything, Tarot card readers, and even a brothel, about which the locals only smile and shrug when asked. This part of Key West is about as eclectic  as Jimmy Buffet's songs are.

Duval Street in the evening in Key West

Key West was once a lonely outpost, accessible only by boat. But through time, a railroad was built, only to be quickly destroyed (due to a hurricane - what else?). Finally a road was constructed which linked all the keys heading southwest from Miami to Key West. Soon, the likes of Hemingway, Capote, President Truman, President John F. Kennedy introduced the keys to the rest of the world.

Key West had made it.

Some strangely beautiful people in Key West...

As with Key West, Buffet had also seen times when he wasn't Jimmy Buffet, but simply Jimmy Buffet, a down-on-his-luck singer from Nashville. He had tried his musical talent in that famous, Tennessee city, but after awhile, and with no money in his pockets - plus a divorce - he headed south.

South, would be traveling with his friends Jerry Jeff Walker (of Mr. Bojangles, fame) and Teresa "Murphy" Clark. Jerry and Teresa allowed Jimmy to stay with them at their house in Coconut Grove in Miami.

But soon, restlessness moved Jimmy further south to Key West. He knew, that perhaps this strangely beautiful area, and it's equally strangely beautiful people would understand his music and lyrics.

Nashville hadn't - so what did he have to lose?

In the early 1970's he lived in a little apartment next to a place called, Louie's Backyard, a bar and restaurant.

We visited the place, had a beer or two while looking over the ocean and didn't realize where we were actually sitting. Then we heard the bartender - we like bartenders - telling a story when a certain song came out and people started visiting the bar and 'stealing' items. Anything, so they could tell their friends, they had some memorabilia linked to Jimmy Buffet.

In 1974, Jimmy's album, Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season, talked about Louie's Backyard.

'God, I slept way past noon, Stood up and tried to focus, I hoped I wouldn't have to look far, I knew I could use a Bloody Mary, So I stumbled next door to the bar.'

"I actually had to chase two guys down the beach who stole a full size lounge chair." she told us.

"Why not the whole bar?"

"It was too heavy and bolted to the floor, I guess," she replied.

First place Jimmy Buffet played in Key West - for beers only!

Soon after arriving in Key West, Jimmy found himself playing in a very small club called the Chart Room at the Pier House Motel.

He played for beers. Wow! For beers - the guy is worth over a half-a-billion dollars now. Gotta love the opportunities the good old United States offers a down and out singer from the 70's.

Along with Jim Croce, Vaughn Cochran, and others, Jimmy hit his stride and the rest is history for this musical icon.

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes, his 6th album released in 1977, made it into mainstream audiences and his career took off.

But, unlike many up and coming musical artists - Jimmy was business savvy. He began marketing islander styled clothing, posters, and then opened his first Margaritaville in Key West.

Laureen, pointing out where Margaritville started in Key West

From there, the money kept pouring in - but he never forgot his roots.

In 1985, his album Last Mango in Paris, hit the charts and one song spoke (he's a poet and he knows it) about Captain Tony's Saloon on Green Street.

John in front of - hmmm, a bar - very strange

'I went down to Captain Tony's, To get out of the heat, Then I heard a voice call out to me, "Son come have a seat", I had to search my memory, As I looked into those eyes, Our lives change like the weather, But a legend never dies.'

Even though Jimmy moved to Palm Beach around 1992, he kept his house in Key West until 1998, when he sold it for over a million dollars. He was a smart guy with the bucks!

So, we found the early Jimmy Buffet in Key West - walking the streets and alleys of this town let us realize the draw it had on a young singer. It has the same appeal to these travelers. A place where a person can be who they are - challenge themselves - and prove they have the grit to succeed with their dreams no matter the setbacks.

Jimmy Buffet, along with many others, have made this key their home and not only found themselves, but their fortunes as well.

If it wasn't for the bloody hurricanes and humidity!

Our search was over - on to the next one.

Who's next on the list to search for in the Florida Keys?

Summer is Coming

The days are getting longer and the weather is warming toward that coming summer right around the corner. Soon it will be time for jumping into the water to cool off and have some fun.

Laureen practicing for summer fun on John's jet ski - what? She has her own!

In the Southwest, where John and Laureen reside, one of wettest and coolest places to spend time away from their primary residence is the Colorado River.

The Colorado River - Laughlin on the left and Bullhead City on the right

The location of miles and miles of beaches, romantic coves, startling natural beauty, and the sort of outdoor activity which makes one forget that they had just put in 40 hours at the office the previous week.

"Hey, get a cove."

The majestic 1,450 mile long Colorado River winds its way from the central Rocky Mountains southward all the way to the Gulf of California between the states of Sonora and Baja California in Mexico.

The Colorado River meeting the Gulf of California 

Over 40 million people depend on this clear liquid elixir to sustain their life: be that for drinking, washing, traveling, agriculture, power, or simply playing.

At J and L, we truly enjoy the aspect of playing on the Colorado River and the man-made reservoirs created from the ever flowing waters.

One such reservoir, located in the Black Canyon area between Nevada and Arizona is Lake Mead, created by the building of the Hoover Dam. Originally known as Boulder Dam, the name was changed by the U.S. Congress in 1947 to honor President Herbert Hoover. This dam is approximately 37 miles southeast from Las Vegas, making it an easy day's venture for some water festivities.

Hoover Dam holds back the waters of the Colorado River creating the largest reservoir in the United States. This body of water is named for the commissioner of the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, Elwood Mead. Mead ran the department during the time the dam was under construction from 1931 until 1935. Construction at the time was a thing to marvel at as the dam is completely made of concrete, making it one of the largest projects of its time.

A massive undertaking for the 1930's - shoot, at any time for that matter

The finished project - gorgeous and patriotic

The man behind the mission - Dr. Elwood Mead

Lake Mead is 112 miles long and covers more than 247 square miles of surface area. That is one big lake and just south of the dam are the cities of Bullhead City, Arizona and Laughlin, Nevada. Both are magnets for visitors in their own unique ways.

Lake Mead as seen from space - good size patch of water

Each year, Bullhead City has tens of thousands of people coming to play on the waters of the Colorado River and Lake Mead. Locals and visitors alike enjoy boats, jet skis, rafts, or simply lounging in the coolness of the waters while soaking up sunshine.

That's a lot of floaters - uh, people floating on the river near Laughlin

Laughlin is a gambling mecca for those willing to take risks off the water for possible dreams of untold fortunes. For those not wishing to part with money on the draw of the cards can attend the many concert venues around the city, eat at the many restaurants, lay by resort pools, or simply stroll the river walk in front of the many hotels and casinos along the river bank.

Laughlin river walk heading south

Now, a down side with the progress of storing water and creating hydro-electric power by building Hoover Dam was the tragedy of losing some small towns along the shoreline. Communities like St. Thomas, Callville, and Rioville eventually slipped beneath the rising waters of Lake Mead forever.
Well, not forever, because every once in a while during drought years, boaters can actually see the remains of the towns just below the surface of the waters. Eerily spooky but COOL in a sick sort of way.

Speaking of ‘spooky’ – there’s also a Boeing B-29 Superfortress which crashed in the lake in 1948 during a test of a prototype missile guidance system known as the “suntracker” and sank to the bottom. And that bottom could be a long way down beneath the surface since Lake Mead goes from sandal depth to over 500 feet deep.

Actual photo of cockpit from the B-29 on bottom of Lake Mead

That is some serious depth for a reservoir in the middle of the Mohave Desert.

Being water lovers, John and Laureen enjoy both the Colorado River and Lake Mead but generally spend more time at the lake during the ‘boating’ season. With over 759 miles of shoreline, countless coves to explore, islands to picnic on, and the vast variety of both animal life and plant life the lake holds anything an adventurer could want.

Coves to explore by watercraft or beach and do it by foot

Cactus growing out of a rock - life will find a way

Being honest to goodness Jimmy Buffet fans – both Laureen and John enjoyed his single Somethin’‘Bout a Boat from the 2013 album, Songs From St. Somewhere.

Somethin' 'bout a boat
Sittin' on the sea
Out there in the wind
Floatin' on the free
Take you 'round the world

Of course, there should be a sequel, if that’s possible with music, maybe something like Somethin’‘Bout the Water.

Without water, a boat would simply be a large coaster in which to place drinks on in the sand.

Somethin' Bout the Water - any water would help these boats

Most of the time while staying in Bullhead City, Laureen and John use jet skis. Easy to transport and quick on the water.

A little donut action is always fun on the water

A wave of  'yeah, that was fun!'

Laureen revving up to speed for the boating season on her own jet ski

Our good friend, Kaye Randall, refers to jet skis and ‘motorcycles for the water.’ We can’t disagree with her since once the throttle is squeezed and the hull levels, there is no better feeling as the freedom one gets from skipping across the surface of the waves.

Kaye's first time on a jet ski - like a natural

Kaye coming in for a landing

It doesn’t matter if it’s ocean, sea, lake, or river – as long as there is water to dance across who could have a bad time? But a word of caution, never take the waters for granted.

Well, perhaps these boaters did have a bad time, but it is rare

For further information:

Jimmy Buffet - 'Somethin''Bout a Boat' - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9g8LiL0ubo
Lake Mead - https://www.nps.gov/lake/planyourvisit/index.htm
Bullhead City - https://www.bullheadcity.com/
Laughlin - https://www.visitlaughlin.com/