Joan J and the Bad Toupee

I was dreaming about a one legged rodeo clown named Toots when a large crashing noise jolted me awake. In my sleep induced intoxication and desperately wanting to find out how the mono ped clown was going to handle the raging bull Bodacious , I disregarded the thunderous clatter and went back to sleep. Minutes later Kristin ran into the room and frantically pulled me from Toots and the Taurus.

“There’s been a crash outside; I think they hit your boat!”

“Ahhhh shucks” I replied.

Oh wait, actually on second thought I think I said “You’ve got to be F#@king kidding me!”

Clad in nothing more than sleepin shorts, I sprinted outside, not one bit worried about my pup tent leading the way. On my lawn sat a bleeding old man with a really bad toupee, in the street a crumpled maroon Buick that wafted the odor of cat pee and scattered all over the road, the port side of my boat. IMG_5401

I named my boat “Joan J” after she got me through 35 miles of seven foot wave chop and 80 mph winds without taking on so much as a gallon of water. You don’t name your boat after a dude. Boat names need to be female. I thought long and hard about it. My boat was beautiful, sleek and had nice curves but she was also a bad ass b*%ch who could slap you upside the head if need be. Joan Jet and the Blackhearts – Bad to the bone and HOT as hell, in a tattoo/leather sort of way……. Done!

A doublewide trailer mortgage and a boat payment is way, way, way to high class for a teacher salary. I practically starved to death paying off Joan J. We have been through thick and thin together. She is my baby and there she was, shattered. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run over and kiss her gel coat and tell her that all would be ok but bad toupee man was hemorrhaging blood on my grass. I went into first aid mode and tried push my busted beauty into the back of my mind but no matter how hard I tried, it kept popping back front and center.

My mouth said, “Are you OK? Do you have any pain?” My mind screamed, “Oh Jesus my precious!!!!”
My mouth, “What happened?” My mind, “Is that my taillight lying on the center line?”
My mouth, “Is the ambulance coming, has 911 been called?” My mind, “Holy crap that’s a really bad toupee! How did it stay buttoned to your scalp?” “Why was it not violently thrown into the windshield upon impact?”

Turns out the toupee and the old man under it were fine. He had a bad nose and lip bleed and I’m sure his bell had been rung pretty good but all was well when the paramedics carted him away on a backboard out of precaution.

And there I was standing on the starboard side of the port side train wreck, thinking of all the bass I had stroked upon her bow and how I would never again feel her rocking under my feet. It must have been a very busy day for the EMS crew in Page because the only people around were the 37 Page police officers, 15 paramedics and 7 fire trucks (there may have been a few social workers as well but I didn’t pay attention). I hesitated to walk around, fearing the worst. We had a fully booked week of guiding trips scheduled worth thousands of dollars. We would have to cancel all the trips. Was the boat totaled? How long would it take to get a new boat? How much would the insurance say the boat was worth? Does he have insurance? Did I remember to pay for my insurance? Why would anybody think that that toupee was better than being bald?

I slowly walked to the port side. From the pix you can see that he hit about a foot and a half of the hull, he curled the previously flat trim tab into a trim pipe. He glanced left and careened down the step side of the trailer. It was like someone took a giant can opener and cut the wheel wells away from the bunks of the trailer. You couldn’t have done a better job with a cutting torch. Miraculously not a scratch was put into the port side of the boat. The tires and wheels were fine. The only damage other than the trailer was a silver dollar sized chunk of gel coat chipped off of the corner of the hull. I couldn’t believe it. We hooked up to the trailer and drove Joan J to the lake and dropped her in and took the trailer to Brian’s paint and body. No trips were canceled. The biggest problem I have now is that I will never be able to see a one legged rodeo clown without thinking of really bad toupees. Horrible!

To book a trip on Joan J or read the latest lake powell fishing report visit

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