Trip #12 and a harrowing experience

Trip #12 was scheduled to go about 30 miles uplake to Ticaboo Canyon in Good Hope Bay. The Eliminator was running very rough due to bad coils and was scheduled to have been fixed on our days off. I went down to the boat early on Friday morning and found the boat exactly as we left it…broken. A quick run to the office got a mechanic working on it immediately. When we came down later to load and prep the Trash Tracker, it was fixed…RIGHT! I took it out for a trial run and found it was better, but not “fixed”. It now started fine and ran at full speed without dying, a vast improvement, but at a moderate speed, it was missing badly. It would run well enough for the trip so I attached it to the side of the TT and we finished loading the boat and moved it to the main dock.

All volunteers were returnees and well-seasoned Trash Trackers. Three were teachers and one was retired from the Air Force where he was an explosives expert. He might come in very handy during the trip on something too large for the Sawz-all to handle! (Just kidding Cody!) All were heavy-duty fishermen and were in search of the mighty striped bass. They came over by boat on Saturday morning and we loaded the Tracker. Our N.P.S. ranger came over for her welcome and safety speech and we cast off all lines about 9:00 am.

After a three to four-hour trip to Good Hope Bay,

















we cut the runabout loose with Claudia and Dave to look for a good parking spot inside Ticaboo Canyon. There were several possibilities, but one looked better to me and we slid onto a nice soft mud beach and tied our stern lines to two very large boulders. Perfect!































We were now home for the next few days. The first thing to do was to clean the immediate area. After all, we must set a good example. Once the area was cleaned, we all heard some very familiar splashing near the boat. Tiffany grabbed her rod and was soon fighting a nice striper.
















Just to show us it wasn’t an accident, she did it again. Dinner that night was a delicious beer-butt chicken dinner. For you uninitiated heathens, that is a rubbed chicken, perched on a shallow tube (by its butt…hence the name) filled with beer and other spices, and baked on the barbecue by Master Chef Dave. It wasn’t just good, it was magnificent!


The next day started out bright and early…well, bright anyway! We actually got started before 8:00 and headed out in the jerky, but functioning, Eliminator. Since we were near the famed “Striper City” area of the lake, we brought along some extra, very specialized, lake cleaning tools. We cleaned the left side of Ticaboo as we headed for the bay and then went straight across to the east side. We turned south toward the bottom of the bay when a striper boil materialized a few yards away. Everyone grabbed their own specialized lake cleaning tool and tried to remove some unwanted stripers from the lake.


I must stop at this point to give a short lesson on striped bass, particularly here in Lake Powell. The bass were introduced a few years ago for various reasons. One was to entertain fishermen and provide a tasty source of protein for their endeavors. The fish more than cooperated. There are now so many stripers in the lake that there is no limit on how many you may take. The only thing the powers to be ask is that, if you catch a striper, you don’t throw it back. Striped bass are not “catch and release” at Lake Powell.

Anyway, backtracking to my previous point of removing unwanted stripers from the lake, Tiffany once again put the others to shame and took two fish to the others “none”. The stripers sunk out (went away) and we continued on our appointed task of cleaning the lake (of trash, not trash fish). We got a healthy chunk of the bay done by early afternoon and headed back to the TT for a late lunch and a swim. After lunch, we cleaned a small area we couldn’t get to earlier
































and called it a day. After a swim in the nearby newly-designated “spa” area,
















we took the runabout out for a short fishing trip. I neglected to take daily notes so my fish report is a non-report. I think we got skunked, but I wouldn’t bet a fish fillet on it. Day Two dinner was a bevy of beautiful rib-eye steaks, masterfully cooked to perfection by Eric, accompanied by garlic-mashed potatoes and green beans.

Day Three started out with us heading to the end spot of the previous day’s work. During our travels, we found a really neat petrified wood stump,

















a Moki Marble
















and a memorial plaque to a Dr. Tim Allison.
















We finished the rest of the bottom of Good Hope and returned to the boat. Since it was too late to move the TT down to Sevenmile Canyon, our next and final destination of the trip, we decide to go for a swim and go fishing. We cruised around a finally found a school of “foamers”, a feeding frenzy of stripers feeding on shad. Game on! Four lures hit the water. Tiffany (of course) and Andy, our VERY knowledgeable professor of Southwest Studies and history at Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado, both hooked up simultaneously.

Barber’s Rules of Fishing went into effect immediately. Barber’s Rules are as follows: First fish on board equals $1. Biggest fish is also worth $1. The person catching the most fish also gets $1. Since Tiff and Andy hooked up simultaneously, they split the dollar. Andy, by vast experience, or half-vast blind luck, took the biggest striper of the trip and a dollar.

















Tiffany, with four stripers, took the “most fish” category and a dollar. Dave and Eric went down in flames! So…the final results of the 2010 Trash Tracker Trip #12 Fishing Tournament are that Eric and Dave each owe Tiffany and Andy $1.50 each. Good luck on collecting! After the contest, Tiffany prepared a magnificent dinner of shish kabobs and barbecued corn. Losing weight on this trip is NOT an option!

Day Four! Ah, yes, Day Four. Another day that will live in infamy! After moving all the boats ten miles downlake to Sevenmile Canyon, we, as in Dave, Tiff, Andy, Eric and I, took off in the Eliminator to “trash the lake” as we fished. The first order of business was to head south to Hansen Creek to see the deceased burro found on the last trip. After a few short detours, we arrived at the final resting spot of the aforementioned varmint, a small cut way, way, way back in the canyon. Tiff and Andy jumped out for pictures and a closer look. They then made a short recon trip above the bones. When they returned, Tiffany, who owned horses and, I believe, grew up on a ranch, proclaimed that my “burro” was actually a cow.

















It had split hooves, which burros do not. OK, OK, I stand corrected, but it was still the most unusual find of the year so far. (You know in your hearts that you wanted to see the picture a second time!)

When everyone was back in the Eliminator, I cranked the engine. Let me rephrase that…I turned the key to start it. Nothing happened! Oh shit! Let’s see, shift lever in neutral…check! Wiggle the shift lever…check! Look dumbfounded…check! Now what? I checked everything I could think of. Nothing was obvious and I came up empty. I tried calling N.P.S. dispatch on the radio (which was working) but got no response as we were deep inside the canyon. I was starting to take stock of what we had on board as I contemplated the very distinct possibility of having to spend the night in the canyon next to a dead cow. It was not a pleasant thought, especially since we were now getting pelted with rain from a very nasty-looking thunderstorm. We had 10 gallons of water and a roll of toilet paper. The essentials were there, but nothing else. A boat towing a bunch of kids soon appeared so I grabbed a life jacket, stood on the back of the boat and waved it back and forth. They saw me and came over to us. I told them of our predicament and asked to be taken to the main channel where the radio should work. The operator said he would take me, but would have to drop all the kids off at their houseboat first. He took off and I went back to thinking.

There was no power to the engine. I wiggled the main power wire at the shift control lever. Nothing. I then followed the wire toward the engine. Just where the wire entered the engine cowling, it was covered with a greasy red plastic tape. I moved the wire with my hand and it felt like an overcooked noodle, NOT like a stiff #2 wire should feel. I unwrapped the tape and the wire fell into two pieces. Drawing on my extensive electrical background, I deduced that a heavy-duty #2 wire could not carry any current to the engine if it were broken completely in half. I then grabbed both pieces of wire and touched them together and was rewarded by a big spark. YES!!! I then had Dave crank the engine over as I held the wires together. It worked! The engine started! We took off immediately and waved “Thanks” to the Good Samaritan as we rocketed by his houseboat. We headed for home as fast at the storm-ravaged water would let us go. The Trash Tracker was a beautiful sight as we pulled into our canyon! We immediately set out two extra anchor lines because of the wind, followed by a double-toddy and a do-it-yourself pizza dinner on the barbie.

















I sincerely hope I never find out the name of the mechanic that “repaired” that wire.

The night was off-and-on rain…mostly “ON”. There were no sleepers on the top deck tonight. I woke up five times because of the rain, the last time about 7:00. Gizmo wanted no part of getting up, but I insisted, and we went outside to find a suitable Tamarisk tree or bush. After a “high five” with his right rear leg, Giz returned to the TT and we started getting ready to leave. All the anchor lines were pulled and stowed and I backed the boat off the beach. We headed back toward Bullfrog, arriving just after noon. We started cleaning the TT and then took the Eliminator over to the launch ramp to unload 47 bags of trash plus other assorted trophies.

After the unload, we washed all the boats down and pulled over to the main dock for the final unloading of our volunteers. Great trip! Thanks to all for the wonderful dinners, the hard work and the outstanding company.