Navajo Lake Revisited

Once again I stopped by the Visitors' Center to sign in, pay my entry and camping fees and opt to stay in the unimproved (so-called "primitive") area at the north end of the lake. This year my two nights without facilities (no water, picnic tables or utilities - electric or sewer) was $18.00. That up from my last visit two years ago when it was about $14.00. No matter, the place is a terrific camping and paddling area.

The first order of business was to see if my favorite spot was available, a reasonably level place for tenters out on a point of land. It was, for there were but a few campers and fishermen there at the early afternoon hour when I arrived. It's the same site I used before, a good one where the tent is sheltered from winds by pine trees. There's a place to build a campfire, if you're so inclined. I'm not. But the main attraction for me is the convenient access to the water. A little beach just 30 yards away was just right for launching my touring kayak.

I was out on the water just before 3:00 PM. Winds were light and the skies were clear, save for some high herringbone cirrus to the northwest. It was terrific. And I pretty much had the lake to myself. A jet-ski whined along the far shore, making a heck of a racket for simply a one-person boat. Mine, in contrast, was silent. A few miles to the south, down toward the New Mexico half of the lake, I saw a sailboat. That was about it on a Wednesday afternoon in early September.

By the time I'd gone two or three miles, in a loop around the north end of the lake, the winds started picking up. The last half-mile or so was right into a freshening wind from the southwest.. Whitecaps developed and waves weren't a threat to my trusty sea kayak, but it was becoming work, hard work, to make headway back toward my campsite. A front was coming through, I later learned on my portable radio.

Back at camp I soon found it necessary to batten down the hatches and prevent my stuff from blowing about. It was a bit of a chore trying to cook my supper on the propane stove that evening. Yet my trail pack rice and spiced chicken dinner was just the ticket.

Over night the winds shifted from southwest to east, causing my tent to flap differently sometime after midnight. The change of sounds woke me. Or was it Mother Nature's call. No matter. I was definitely aware of the wind shift. It was still a good blow, but there was no rain. That came later.

Next morning it was definitely too windy to paddle, except along the eastern shore in the lee of the hills. That I did do, close to shore and it wasn't bad at all. I explored the shoreline not visited on my previous trip. But by mid-day, when I was again back at camp, the winds were dead calm. The lake changed from choppy to glassy smooth.

That Thursday night more campers and fishermen arrived in the primitive area. A couple trailers, three camper vans and come pickups with campers arrived. Several drove down the little dirt lane to my area, only to sadly discover that I'd claimed the spot first. Friday, just in time for the weekend crowd, I vacated that great camping spot. I'm sure somebody grabbed it right away.

Three separate paddling excursions on my two-day trip were great tonic for the soul. I'm a solo camper, but enjoy it immensely. And I'm a solo paddler too. It's great sport.