PAGE, Ariz. — Stan Jones realized early on what the Glen Canyon Dam would hold, which would be "One great lake" . . . now Lake Powell.
What he never could have imagined is the part he would play in presenting this huge body of water, held together by towering, red-rock cliffs, to the world.
Jones became a self-taught mapmaker, explorer and guide. Over the years, his maps have led millions of people around a lake that has more shoreline than the entire West Coast of the United States and more wonders than anyone ever imagined.
Jones is the artist, writer and designer of the "Stan Jones' Boating and Exploring Map — Lake Powell and Its 96 Canyons."
For nearly four decades now, Jones' fold-out maps have been a bible for would-be boaters and hikers in the Glen Canyon Recreation Area. Stores sell them, concessionaires display them and people plan entire vacations with them.
Jones never intended to be a topographer. He started as a writer for the Salt Lake Tribune, then went on to work for Disney, the University of Arizona, and then found himself designing and writing brochures for new start-up businesses in Page, gateway to Lake Powell, in the mid-1960s.
He said he decided then to get to know the lake as it was coming up, "and for me it was a thrill. I'd been a lake nut since I was a kid."
His early explorations made him somewhat of a celebrity in town, he recalled as he sat on his living room couch.
"I became known as 'Mr. Lake Powell.' Everywhere I'd go people would want to know what I'd seen and what I'd discovered. I spent more time talking to people on the sidewalk than I did working."
So, drawing on his skills as a writer and lithographer, he made a map of the lake back in 1967, pinpointing each canyon he'd explored, each ruin he'd discovered, each natural arch he'd seen.
"I printed 700 maps that first year, charged 75 cents each and had them sold in 10 days," he said with a slight chuckle in his voice. "I said 'Mama (referring to his late wife, Alice), I think we've got something here.' "
To explore the lake, Jones bought a 14-foot aluminum boat, fixed a 15 horsepower motor to the rear and set off, albeit slowly, on his adventures. He would be gone, he recalled, "Anywhere from a few days up to three weeks — I think that was the longest trip."
He took the small boat into every canyon on the lake, mapping each bend and fork along the way. Once he would hit dry land, he would tie up the boat and hike.
"As far and as high as I could. I wanted to know everything there was to know. I wanted to know what was going to be covered (by water) and what wasn't. I lived on sand spits, ledges and in little caves when the weather was bad.
"There were times when the winds were so bad I was afraid to turn into shore for fear of capsizing. In those days there were not many people on the lake. If something happened, there was no one to help."
Most of the canyons in those days had names, given either by John Wesley Powell on his historic float through a section of river he named "Glen Canyon," or by early river runners.
There were a couple of landmarks he named, partially for copyright protection and for personal reasons.
One such naming was "Carrot Top Arch."
"I knew after I did my map it would be plagiarized. If I ever had to go to court I could always ask how they got the name 'Carrot Top Arch.' I named it after my wife. She was a redhead," he said, pausing to gather his feelings. And yes, his map was plagiarized, and no, he never sued.
"In the old days, I used to sell 40,000 maps a year. Now, with all the competition, I'm down to 28,000 or 30,000," he added. "I have people tell me all the time, though, that my map is by far the best. I've got whole folders full of letters from people thanking me for my map. Many of them telling me how they were lost or stranded and how the map led them back to safety."
Jones said he changes his map every year, when possible, putting in new information and new discoveries and updating water levels.
Another thing he did was to drive along the plateaus and, where possible, pull down to the lake. He said there are seven such canyons where a vehicle can legally be taken to the lake's edge. "I did it because I not only wanted to know access from the lake, but also what it was from the top down to the lake. I made notes of all my travels," he continued, "but I've never put it into a booklet. Maybe, someday."
Over the years, Jones has had many experiences. Some, to this day, people have a hard time believing. On a couple of occasions, for example, high winds pushed the water out of canyons he was exploring and left his boat beached on dry land.
"I was in Cow Canyon on the San Juan when it happened. There was no one around. If the water hadn't come back, I didn't know what I would have done," he recalled. "Then, I heard this gurgling sound and saw the water coming back. I jumped in the boat, rowed as hard as I could out to where I could start and motor and got out of there."
He's fought high winds, 10-foot waves, thick sheets of ice, driving rain and scalding temperatures over the years, "and I've loved every minute. I've had so much fun, and when you can make a living having fun, what better life can you have."
There is, among the 96 canyons on the lake, not one particular favorite, but canyons that are special.
Reflection Canyon has always been a favorite for fishing, and Llewellyn Gulch has been a favorite for discoveries, such as early American rock art and beautiful coves. Some have become a favorite because they offered shelter during harrowing times. Secret Canyon he likes because it is the only truly water-filled slot canyon; Cathedral Canyon because of its majestic rock walls; Ice Berg Canyon because of the natural lake at the end — "People have a hard time believing there's a lake behind a lake"; and West Canyon for its spectacular hikes.
"The saddest thing for me, right now, is that so many people are not coming to the lake for the pristine beauty anymore. They come in boats, some of them nicer than their homes, and race about. They miss so much of what the lake has to offer," he said matter-of-factly, "And I have to take exception with that."
A few years back, the 85-year-old topographer/explorer decided to slow down, so he transferred ownership of the mapping rights to Steve Ward, who, next to Jones, knows as much about the Glen Canyon landscape as anyone.
And, while he admitted he's too old to hike — "Which is probably what I miss the most" — he still loves the lakes as much as he ever has . . . "It's my lake . . . It's my map, and all I ever wanted to do was show people just how spectacular and wonderful it is."
And he has — a million times over.
E-mail: grass@desnews.com