This past weekend I shared the experience of paddling the Rio Grande River from Rio Grande Village to La Linda, Mexico. I was with five other paddler-adventurers who also completed the 33-mile run. Sunday started the trek from Rio Grande Village in the Big Bend National Park. We headed down river from there. With a flow rate of about 275 cubic feet per second, we covered fourteen miles the first day before setting up camp. After some fellowship and a good hot meal, the canyon walls allowed us to get a good night’s rest. Monday morning offered another beautiful day with calm winds and clear skies. Thirteen more miles completed the second day with Boquillas Canyon blending into the background. Without the protective canyon walls, the second night revealed some vulnerability as cool winds from a front moved through. The next morning was Tuesday. Despite it starting gray with overcast clouds and chilly winds, it was a good day. We dressed appropriately for the conditions and about six hours later the group completed their final paddle strokes landing near FM 2627. It was time to head home.
While I am a fisherman at heart, I didn’t take my rods and reels. I seriously contemplated taking them as I packed for the trip. I don’t regret the decision with the journey now behind me. As I learned, there really was no time to fish while paddling, maneuvering, and being a link in a team of paddlers meandering through the water channels of soft rapids and tight turns. Our group consisted of six paddlers and two shuttle drivers. At 44 years old, I was the baby of the group. After me, the ages stair stepped up to 55, 58, 60-something, 68, and 73. TKF’er Lollipop (Herb) deserves a big pat on the back for organizing and guiding this trip from his February scouting mission along the same path.
Where to start? The trip started with the long drive from San Antonio. I met Herb in Castroville. From there, we met two ladies in our group and transferred all their gear and kayaks to my truck for the road trip to Big Bend National Park via Hwy 90. Saturday we arrived later in the afternoon where we met everyone else in the group. After an awesome brisket supper, we slept in our tents getting rested to prepare the launch the Sunday morning.
Sunday morning brought perfect weather. Our fresh-water Naval fleet was a little late embarking this day. A few minutes before 10:00 AM, three plastic sit-on-top kayaks, one Poke Boat, one Inflatable, and one Canoe set out for the 33-mile trip. The Rio Grande’s waters were low and silty but pleasantly cool.
Ready to Launch:
The Fleet:
The Mexico side was home to Boquillas, Mexico. Our group encountered a few Mexican citizens fishing and tending to their horses as the current carried our fleet downstream. Through some mutual “spanglish” I asked one ol’ boy if he’d caught anything. He verified one catch—a catfish. Another group pan-handled from the banks trying to sell things. The last fellow I saw was perched under a rock ledge taking advantage of the shade it offered. Had he not hollered out, “Ola Amigo!” I never would have known he was there.
On the Move:
Horses on the Mexican Side:
The river picked up pace. The scenery changed as we entered the Boquillas Canyon. She raised her great walls creating scenes of incredible erosion; revealing slickenslides of various sizes; and exposing limestone layers millions of years old. The terms syncline, outcropping, eons, eras, folds, faults, plate tectonics, and the like came rushing back to me from those Geology 1301 days of college.
New Water:
Beautiful Scenery:
Layers of Strata:
As the river’s water flowed freely at the canyon’s floor, it was hard to take it all in. It was truly a personal experience to each his/her own. After minutes turned to hours, we all caught a case of “canyon neck.” The main symptom was muscle soreness in the shoulders and neck from looking up too long in one position. Scheduled breaks for lunch and stretch-out sessions alleviated the short term muscle soreness.
Shaded Rest Stop #1:
On the Move Again:
Incredible Views:
Stretch Time:
Keeping it Together:
As remote as we were, I anticipated seeing lots of wildlife. Reality saw it otherwise. Beyond raccoon tracks, an occasional deer track, and some apparent coyote tracks, the prevalent animal along the Rio Grande’s banks was the donkey. There were several donkeys of varying colors and personalities. Their presence made up for the lack of other wildlife.
Donkeys:
Postcard-Worthy:
Around 4:30 PM on Sunday, a gravel/sand bar seemed like the best place to camp. After a serving of tinfoil heaven, I got cleaned up and snapped a couple photos of the waxing moon rising over the canyon heights. Minutes later, I literally hit the sack.
In Search of Campsite:
Campsite Found:
Moon Rising:
Lights Out for Big Country:
I was out for the count until—until—well let me describe it this way: Think about a movie with a medieval setting where a battle between kings’ armies is about to ensue. A bellow sounds off with a long blow to signify the start of the battle. That is the sound I heard echoing through the canyon walls. It started as a “Wooooooooooooooooooooo!” followed by “heeee-haw, heeee-haw!” It was a donkey trumpeting down river from us. It was loud! Moments later a return call came from another donkey heard upriver. That went on throughout the night finally ending with a small heard of donkeys passing right by our camp. Who would have thought?
The next morning (Monday) I awoke around 7:30 AM. I broke out the single burner stove to heat some water. Folgers coffee singles never tasted so good. After a quick breakfast, we all loaded our vessels and paddled down river for some more site seeing and water travels.
More incredible views:
A good place for a lunch break:
Are we having fun yet?
Coming around the river bend:
It’s Herb!
Monday was bittersweet. We were still on the river having a great time but the canyon walls slowly transitioned to smaller hills and old river-deposits. There was a distinct bend in the river where you could look back and say, “We’re out of the canyon.” The new stretch of river brought different scenery.
Heading out of the Canyon:
Transitioning from Canyon Walls to River Deposition:
The heat of the day was tolerable but the cool water was still a great retreat for a sit down break. A couple of miles later we found safe harbor on an elevated sand bar. It was time to set up camp again.
Time for a cool-down break:
Campsite #2:
With our portable community reestablished, I set out for a short hike with a fellow paddler on a nearby hill. After reaching its peak, I looked back toward where we paddled earlier. It seemed so close but so far where we left the canyon walls behind us. The Mexico side had an old structure in the distance with the Rio Grande disappearing into the horizon.
Looking Back Upriver toward Boquillas Canyon:
Looking downriver somewhere toward La Linda:
Flora at Camp #2:
A fellow paddler brought the makings for some Italian subs. We ate supper and settled in for another night on the banks of the Rio Grande.
Day three was Tuesday. The morning was cool since a front blew through during the night. Herb calculated our final leg to the take out was about six miles downriver. The sky was gray; the wind was cool and blowing from the south. We all repacked our tents, sleeping bags, and other grimbles to complete the trip. I snapped some final photos along the way thanking the Good Lord for a successful trip. I’d do it again if opportunity presented itself.
Our group’s most nimble paddler at 73 years young:
Herb bringing up the rear:
Landforms consisted mainly of river deposits over the millenia:
National Parks and Wildlife personnel conducting a creel study on fish eggs in the Rio Grande’s waters:
Our last group photo on day three:
Big Country (Craig) and Lollip (Herb) lining the kayaks through a tight bend:
Our final approach toward La Linda:
The bridge at La Linda and FM 2627:
Glad to see Old Blue waiting for us:
Out of respect for Herb Nordmeyer and his newly started business Texas Nature Kayaking (http://www.txnaturekayaking.com" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;), he brings a unique perspective to any outing. He was our group’s leader; our Encyclopedia Brown, and our comic relief during those times when a chuckle was needed.
I met Paul (inflatable kayak), Pat (canoe), Mary1 (yellow SOT), and Mary 2 (Poke Boat) during this trip. Each of them brought enthusiasm full of life experiences to the trip. I was somewhat the newbie to the group but they accepted me as family from the start. The ladies who shuttled the trucks deserve a big thanks--"Thanks Carol and Carol!" This trip was a stepping-stone for me toward teaching, guiding, and leading other adventures with like-minded folks. It was somewhat a recreational, soul-searching, character-building, mark-it-off-the-bucket-list kind of trip for me. As with other personal experiences in the venue of kayaking and fishing, I’ve enjoyed sharing in past trips the “lessons-learned” with hope that another might gain that little edge to take a new step for a new direction, or rekindle a passion for a lost goal, or simply make a leap of faith to a new goal. I guess it’s a way of saying thanks to all of you who have taken time to share your knowledge and experiences to help inspire me to take those new steps, rekindle those old flames, or make a new leap for myself. Until the next time...
Craig
