Willow Beach Marina & Hoover Dam & Lake Mead National Recreation Area Visitor’s Center – Arizona & Nevada

Located on the Colorado river near Lake Mead, Willow Beach Marina was our only campsite with full hook ups. The name implies that there is a beach, but there is not a beach. We had hoped to do some kayaking on the river but we didn’t have the energy when we arrived after a long drive. Next day, it was raining. The kiddos did a very quick test trip between storms but we definitely didn’t kayak as much as we had hoped to.

We visited the Mike O’Callaghan – Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge with a view of the Hoover Dam.

Unfortunately, the Hoover Dam visitor’s center was closed for renovations when we visited. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So instead we visited the Lake Mead National Recreation Area visitor’s center.

When we arrived at Willow Beach Marina Campground, we’d noticed signs for safety precautions during heavy rains for flash floods these:

The day had been scattered with storms and showers so I wasn’t totally surprised to wake in the night to the sound of rain on the roof of the trailer. The good news is – nothing leaked, the bad news is – I couldn’t sleep! I’m almost entirely certain that rain sounds heavier on the roof of a trailer than the roof of a house. Logically, I’m sure that I knew it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. But I was worried, and I couldn’t sleep.

Suddenly, at “O-dark-thirty” (this is what we say when we are woken from sleep and it’s dark outside but we have no idea what time it is), I heard an alarm siren that sounded like a tornado alarm if you’ve ever heard one of those, or a air raid alarm if you’ve seen one of those in a movie, or a flash flood alarm if you live where there are flash floods. The alarm was followed by a robotic voice saying “warning, emergency. Seek higher ground immediately.” Or something to that effect.

Heavens to Betty!!!

Well friends, I suffer from some lingering symptoms of PTSD, and if anything is going to trigger them, it’s this exact situation. I’m super hyper-sensitive to emergency alerts, sirens and alarms. The kiddos and I were up, out of bed, with shoes on, and out the door in about 3 seconds flat. Upon exiting the trailer and assessing the terrain, it did not appear that we were in imminent danger. A man next to the restroom asked me if I thought we should be concerned. This was a nice moment for me because I felt validated in my flight response, there was another person who was also wide awake and concerned. At least I’m not totally crazy. I said I didn’t know, that I wasn’t familiar with the area but that the alarm sounded concerning and I was going to have my husband go and speak with the camp host. The man followed my husband while I feebly attempted to reassure the kiddos.

My assurances are always feeble. My assurances aren’t reliable. When we evacuated our home in Paradise, I’d heard a strikingly similar alarm, the kiddos asked me “What if our house burns up?” and I said, “it won’t.” and I was wrong. And if I was wrong then, and I say “it’s okay” now, they know that I might be wrong this time too. And there is really nothing I can say to reassure them. I can say that God is protecting us. But that doesn’t mean that something bad won’t happen, and we all know it.

When my husband returned he informed us that the alarm was for tent campers near the rivers edge and not for the RV campground, that it wasn’t raining hard enough to cause flooding, that we were already on the “higher ground” mentioned in the alarm, and that since it was nearly 6:30 am we might as well pack up and hit the road early.

And this, dear readers, was the dramatic conclusion to our grand adventure – our epic road trip to Arizona. Our drive home was uneventful. When we arrived home all was well, the cats hadn’t destroyed the house, and the chickens had laid eggs. It will probably take us a week to get everything unloaded and washed.

Until next time, we hope you have a fun adventure with someone you love sometime soon!

❤️ heavenstobetty