The quiet(er) end of Lake Havasu

It was a short, two-dog-cookie ride from Buckskin Mountain, on the Parker Strip, to the southeastern shores of Lake Havasu and Cattail Cove State Park.

An almost-beachfront site! Nice. It was a little tricky to back into it, but no one was watching, and that always helps.

Yeah, it doesn’t look like a difficult site for maneuvering, but it was. We exercised patience, backed in and out a few times, and got situated. The terriers supervised. Note, at top right: construction equipment. We will discuss.

About the dog cookies: somehow, Tyler has trained us to provide a small Natural Balance Duck and Potato treat the moment Sooz climbs into the passenger seat. (It really is a climb. Chief is tall compared to our tired old Acura, into which one falls. Or maybe dives.)

This was his training method: first, he acted stressed — panting and flopping around in his car bed — one day on the way to someplace I can’t remember. He kept doing this, so we tossed words of comfort into the back seat, where they fell on deaf terrier ears.

At a fuel stop, Sooz had the good sense to grab a bag of doggie treats from the Toto. So when we trundled back out onto the road, and Tyler resumed his act, she offered him a goodie.

It got quiet (other than treat-crunching and Chief’s steady, low growl). The cookie worked! Or should I say Tyler’s act worked. He’s a quick study, and since that day years ago, we’ve never started up Chief or our old sedan without an accompanying whine or whimper from our elder terrier. Things escalate quickly — toward advanced, high-frequency hearing loss (as in sharp, deafening barks) — if we’re not prompt with the expected bribe.

So, two cookies got us to this beach, and this reward.

Our first couple of days at Cattail Cove delivered top-drawer weather, including high clouds that cruised in just in time to sweeten the sunset.

This park is quiet, away from anything like a town. We drove into Lake Havasu City a couple of times while staying here; it was maybe a half-hour drive. Compared to Cattail Cove, that place was hopping. There is an old bridge from London (a city in Great Britain), a selection of strip malls, and many boats with large motors. It looked as if fun could be had there, if a bit more revved-up than we might choose. I hope we can go back and get a closer look at that old bridge someday.

I found some birds loitering around Cattail Cove (note: I did not see anything resembling a cove — or even a cattail — at this park. A Google Maps view does reveal a kind of a landward depression in Havasu’s shoreline, but that’s about it. But I guess every park needs a name, and Cattail Cove is probably more interesting, if less accurate, than Big Lake or Sagebrush Junction.

Spotted Sandpiper (immature). No, I do not know my shorebirds; I had to look this one up. Lookit how clear the water is (or at least was) at Lake Havasu! Inviting, it was.

One day at The Cove — as if saying it enough would make it true — Sooz and I tucked the boys into their late-morning-nap spaces and headed out for a Big Hike. Well, just a two-mile path along the shore and into the hillocks surrounding the campground. We didn’t get too far, because the trail quickly took on a cliff-top character that made some of us (okay one of us) pause.

We turned back and found another, inland path, which offered less watery views. Such as:

Oh, the sights you can see on a winter trip to the sun.

And then, after our return to the Toto, I went out hunting again.

Is it comforting, or deflating, when a long journey to a distant and unfamiliar realm yields some of the same personalities one frequently sees back home? Dunno.

Yellow-rumped Warbler, on a tree just above the Toto (but below the construction site). Yeah, they have these in western Washington, USA, too.

Did I mention the construction site?

After our arrival, a glimmer of insight clanked and chugged its way into the part of my brain that plans trips and reserves campsites. Incredibly, a more-or-less beachfront campsite had been available for booking only a few months ahead of prime snowbird-camping season? Why? Why? Why?

Oh. Because the defunct RV park next door has been acquired by Arizona State Parks, and they’re re-grooving it to expand Cattail Cove (the campground, not the nonexistent inlet). And because the regrooving involves a fleet of large, yellow, motorized machines that crank up promptly at 7 a.m. and continue pushing dirt back and forth until Miller Time.

So there was that.

But at least there were exotic birds.

Wow! House Finch! We NEVER see these at home. Unless we look outside.

After four glorious days at The Cove, we ditched Arizona and headed for the California coast. Our stay at Morro Bay State Park was quite delightful; we’ll share soon.