Some of the trailer people had kids our ages that would spend the summers in the park, so there was always something to do, and people to meet.  That first year we were there, we had company every weekend, so I was never sure where I would be sleeping.   Although the area was extremely remote, we were never lonely or bored.
           After a few months without television, Dad installed an antenna and was able to pull three static-y channels from Lake Havasu City. The city was still in its infancy, yet it was offering television to its new residents.  Back then, there was no road from Bill Williams River to Lake Havasu City.  If we did venture across the lake, it was by boat, and we’d rent a taxi; something that Lake Havasu City actually had in those days. During the first few years, we normally drove to Parker for our shopping.
            That fall my sister prepared for college, and when she left, it hit my father hard.  He hadn’t truly realized how moving to Havasu meant his oldest daughter would be leaving the nest that much sooner.  Had we stayed in Covina, Lynn probably would have lived at home during her first few years of college.  Dad cried for days after she left.
          I started high school in the fall of 1968, which meant I would now have to meet a school bus at Parker Dam, for the trip to Parker.  With Lynn gone, my dad began taking me to Parker Dam each day.  This twice a day trip broke into his already busy work schedule.  Yet, it gave us some wonderful time together.
           By 1969, Dad submitted Havasu Palms’ master plan to the Department of Interior, and he received a favorable response and assurances that a lease extension would be forth coming.
            As he wrestled with the bureaucratic red tape, he continued to work.  That year he added 12 new mobile home sites, and enlarged the campground. Mom was typically the one who cleaned the campgrounds each season, which meant trimming bushes, raking and shoveling. Sometimes she would have me working with her, and it was always very humbling, for she could outwork about anyone.
            Lake Havasu opened the high school during my sophomore year, and I transferred there so I could take the boat to school, instead of traveling the rugged dirt road each day. Dad promised Mom he would drive me over in the boat. That lasted about a week.  I began driving the boat myself, something I did for the remaining of my high school years.  It was a six-mile trip one-way, taking between 15 and 30 minutes, depending on the weather.
          On one trip home I looked down at my feet to see water coming in, I was sinking. I quickly threw on my life jacket, put the throttle in full gear and stayed as close to shore as possible, attempting to make it home. When I approached Pilot Rock, I headed directly for a boat of fishermen, swerved past their boat, and beached my boat on shore.  They took me the rest of the way home. I was grateful they were there to help me, as the lake was quiet and cold that day.

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Photo: Pilot Rock, view from Havasu Palms