The Shangri-La

When my older brother, Ron, lived in Louisville, KY, he bought a boat. I didn’t know much about it except that he had never been around boats. My step-dad, Al, was a lifetime fisherman. My brother, Steve, wanted to get us together, and decided a fishing trip would be a good way to go. Steve knew Al fished for walleyes in Minnesota, so asked Ron if we could go fishing for walleyes in Kentucky. Now we know, but didn’t know then, Kentucky is known for crappie, bass and trout fishing, but not walleyes. The only place Ron could find walleye was on the Cumberland River which is on the far eastern border of Kentucky. We decided to go during my spring break, which was late in March.

I was the only principal on this trip. The plan was for Steve and Al to pick me on the way to Louisville. With Ron’s boat we were short one for four people. We planned to rent one, and Al brought a 6 hp motor to use.

We arrived at Ron’s in the late afternoon. As we pulled to the garage I saw his boat for the first time. The motor was in pieces. Knowing Ron lacked the mechanical skills, this looked like trouble.

Ron assured us that he knew how to put it together. That evening he reassembled his boat motor.  We loaded everything into his big station wagon and headed on our adventure. Ron drove, which is an experience in itself. Ron also had found a “resort” on the river and had rented a “suite” with two beds.

Eventually we encountered a major traffic jam on the Cumberland Parkway.  Ron decided he didn’t want to sit in traffic. He drove to the shoulder of the four lane and down on the edge of the median; this while pulling his boat, and three rather nervous passengers.

After exiting the median and the four lane, we drove for most of the day until we found a small town near the river. I believe it was named Nancy, KY. We had to go out from the town to reach the “resort”. When I asked Ron the name of the place he said “The Shangri-La”. I did not have a good feeling about that.

We found The Shangri-La. It was a single level motel situated under a cliff. It was above the river and marina. It also wasn’t open.

The Shangri-La opening was several weeks away. The rooms weren’t ready. They rented us a room with two “double beds” and a kitchen. Each bed was slightly larger than a single bed. The room had a furnace, but it was not on. The room was very cold. It was the western slope of the Appalachian Mountains and late March.

Al is a pretty small guy, but Ron, Steve, and I all are king size. The first discussion between Steve and me was who was going to be stuck in the same small bed with Ron. I lost. The next discussion was how to light the furnace. The oil burner lacked a pilot light, so matches were needed. It also didn’t work well and kept going out. When it was lit, it sounded like a small explosion. After many tries, Steve propped open the fuel valve using part of a book match.

After a restless night of small beds, and relighting the furnace, we awoke to a cold room and slightly warmer day. Steve and Al rented a boat at the marina, while Ron and I put his boat in the water. After several attempts launching Ron’s boat, we met Al and Steve on the river. We were advised to go upstream through the rapids to get to pools for walleyes.

We left with Ron leading. Ron struggled negotiating the rapids. Although he should have had plenty of horsepower, the boat wasn’t performing and he was inexperienced in navigating a swift current. Al and Steve had much less horsepower, but Al was experienced with river fishing. They soon passed us to the pools beyond each rapids.  As they passed they said their boat was leaking. Al caught three fish right away, but they weren’t walleyes.

Ron and I passed through two rapids and were in the middle of the third when Ron’s boat motor died. We started to drift back down stream. With no power we were in danger of getting cross-ways in the current and capsizing. As we floated down we drifted to the side and out of the main current. Ron took his motor cowling off to see if the plugs were fowled. He pulled the two plugs, but they were not dirty. He decided to change them anyway.

Working on a boat motor while in the water is difficult. To get to the plugs you have to hang out over the back to work on the plugs. This is difficult in calm water. A swift river makes it especially scary.

Ron tried to replace the plugs but had difficulty getting them square in the hole. After several tries they seemed to tighten. About this time, Steve and Al had drifted back down and were by the back of Ron’s boat.

We drifted a little way from Al and Steve, and Ron tried to start his boat. Immediately both spark plugs flew out of the motor and shot across the river. Fortunately Al and Steve were not in line with the projectiles. Steve tried to put in the other plugs, but the threads were gone.

With no threads left to hold the original plugs, Ron and I drifted down the remaining rapids toward the marina. When we got back to the marina Steve and Al decided to return their leaky rental.

Steve and Al turned in their boat and rented another. Al cleaned his three fish. We ate by the hotel. After lunch, Ron and I rented a boat and motor at the marina.

As we headed back up the rapids, we started to take on water. We decided they must have rented us the boat Steve and Al had turned in. We also struggled again with the rapids and the rental motor did not function well.  We fished for a while, but had no luck.

After sitting with wet feet and no fish we decided to go back in. With an unreliable motor, we drifted most of the way back. After turning in the boat, we decided were not going to spend another cold night in the hotel. We drove into town for dinner and looked for another cabin or hotel. We couldn’t find any that were open.

After dinner we reluctantly returned to The Shangri-La. I had to sleep with Ron again. After another cold night of listening to the furnace light, pop and go out, we decided our fishing trip was going to end in the morning.

We left early. After the long trip across Kentucky we reached Ron’s house. I was sure his motor was ruined. He told me later a mechanic inserted sleeves in the cylinders and fixed the plugs. He sold the boat some time later, and I never saw it again after our Cumberland River adventure.

Whenever we go anywhere fishing, and someone else makes motel reservations, I always ask the motel name to make sure there isn’t another Shangri-La.