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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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/
