Suburban Exploration on Oyster Creek

Finally, my paddling drought has been broken! The last time I was on the water was Thanksgiving of last year, and it's been even longer than that since I explored a new paddling destination.

Linda suggested we head down to Sugarland and explore Oyster Creek near where she once lived. We launched just downstream from where Williams Trace Boulevard crosses the creek. At that point the creek looks more like a narrow lake, lined by attractive houses.

As we paddled downstream, we came to the little dam which maintains the lake-like conditions above it. After we portaged around the dam, the character of the creek changed completely. The wide channel lined with houses was replaced by a narrow one lined by trees. Thanks to the dry winter, there was no water flowing over the dam, leaving the creek below it shallow and with very little current.

And suddenly we were surrounded by birds. There were the typical back yard varieties like jays and cardinals. But there were also kingfishers, hawks, ducks, and various wading birds. And just below the damn we spotted a pair of pileated woodpeckers.

All of this scenery came at a cost though. It only takes one fallen tree to block a narrow stream, and there were many fallen trees. Some we could paddle over. Some we could paddle under. One we had to get out of the boats and portage around (or over!).

Eventually we reached a log jam of such epic proportions that we gave it up and turned back toward the launch. There were no regrets though. It was a fun paddle and I enjoyed seeing Sugarland from a slightly different angle!

More Pictures from Oyster Creek

Treasures of the Contraband

Local legend claims that the pirate Jean Lafitte buried treasure somewhere along Contraband Bayou. The house where I grew up is located near its banks and I spent countless hours roaming its shores and canoeing its waters. While the bayou never revealed any gold or jewels to my inquisitive eyes, it features prominently in a treasure trove of childhood memories.

During this year's Thanksgiving holiday I was able to paddle it again for the first time in many years. Thanks to the passage of a cold front the night before, the air was chilly and the water level was low. But the breeze was light and the sun was warm, so we decided it was time to rediscover the bayou.

The friendly folks at the Bowtie Marina were generous enough to let us use their boat ramp to launch our kayaks. Just as we exited the marina, I spotted an osprey perched in a tree nearby. It took flight before we could get very close, but it set the tone for the afternoon's wildlife spotting. It was a day for the birds.

We headed upstream, passing under the Prien Lake Road and I-210 bridges. Despite the fact that we were going upstream, we found that the current was going in the same direction. Unless there's been a recent rainfall, any current in this bayou is a function of wind and tide.

Along way way we saw ospreys, herons, egrets, cormorants, kingfishers, and more. And of course we saw our fair share of wooded shores and lovely homes as well. We also ran across more than our fair share of dogs who seemed to feel that kayaks were almost as much fun to bark at as squirrels.

We finally turned around near Sale Street as the afternoon was starting to wane. We headed back downstream (against the current) and arrived at the marina just in time to reload the boats before their closing time.

While some things have changed along the old bayou, much of it looked and felt comfortably familiar -- and that's a good thing. It's heartening to know that the setting of so many treasured memories is still around, and not only in my mind.


More Pictures from Contraband Bayou

Lost Maples: Sometimes Green is a Fall Color

The state of Texas is known for many things, but having beautiful fall colors isn't generally numbered among them. One place that bucks that reputation is the Lost Maples State Natural Area, where the ancient stands of big tooth maples growing in the canyons often put on quite a show.

This year the cold weather arrived too late for my scheduled visit. Things were still green and growing when I arrived with no leaf turn to be seen anywhere.

Oh well! For my money, green's a pretty color too and I thoroughly enjoyed my visit. I arrived early while the morning was still quite cool and hiked both the east and west trails, taking in the views from the bottoms of the canyons and the tops of the hills.

I highly recommend hiking this park in either the spring or the fall. And if you time your fall trip just right, just maybe you'll catch the maples in their full glory.

More Pictures from Lost Maples

Blown on the Bayou

I think Mother Nature has it out for me this fall. First, she chased me from Lake Raven with clouds and cold winds during my first paddle of the season. Then she lulled me into complacency with the return of a few weeks of summer-like weather. But after I scheduled this paddle to Pickett's Bayou for my kayaking meetup group, she decided to hurl the first strong cold front of the season at southeast Texas.

The cold dry air started blowing in on the night before the paddle and the RSVP list quickly evaporated. The prospect of a low temperature in the the forties coupled with strong north winds was just a bit too much for most of our members. By launch time, only three of us remained.

Yes, the morning air was cold. And yes, the north wind was blowing. But otherwise it was an amazingly beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly from a flawless blue sky.

The paddle south was uneventful up to the point where we reached Jac's Island. We took the fork toward the right, thinking we'd find a narrow channel there which we could follow toward the Old River. We learned that satellite imagery can sometimes be deceiving, as we quickly ran out of water and were forced to turn back.

Instead we took the left fork, passed Jac's Island, and continued southward toward the narrows. As we entered the narrows, we noticed a moderately strong current pulling us forward. Upon exiting the south end of the narrows and reaching the Cutoff to the Trinity, we found ourselves faced with a small waterfall at the pipeline crossing. The strong north winds associated with the cold front had pushed enough water out of Trinity Bay that the bayou was slowly being drained.

We'd harbored some thoughts of continuing into the cutoff and beyond, but there wasn't any clear portage path around this unexpected waterfall, and we weren't confident the narrows would remain passable if the water level dropped much more. We'd run out of water once again!

We retraced our path through the narrows and then landed briefly on Jac's Island. It gave us a chance to stretch our legs a bit and examine the animal tracks in the sand. After a brief exploration, we returned to our kayaks and headed for the launch. Since the afternoon sun had warmed the air a bit, the headwinds had lost their bite and we made it back in good spirits.

While it may not have been the perfect day for a paddle, I can handle as many imperfect days like this as Mother Nature wants to give me!


More Pictures from Pickett's Bayou

Fall Arrives at Lake Raven

While I thoroughly enjoy my summer excursions, there's no denying the heat and humidity that characterize most paddles along the gulf coast in the summer. By the time fall arrives, I'm generally ready for a change.

The temperature was comfortably warm as we headed toward Huntsville on this Saturday afternoon. We exited I-45 just south of town, turned west on the Huntsville State Park access road, and soon disappeared into a sea of pines.

The park was hopping, with the usual compliment of campers and boaters being joined a group of mountain bikers there for a race. We made our way down to the boat ramp, unloaded, and shoved off into the relatively uncrowded waters of Lake Raven.

The first couple of hours of our paddle were lovely as we explored the western lobe of the lake. We hoped to spot an alligator if we could. We couldn't. But with the peace and quite of the lake broken only by the calls of birds from the surrounding woods, it was difficult to be too upset about that or anything else. As we circled the lake, we nosed our way into various little inlets. In many of them we disturbed small gatherings of ducks or other water birds. In one we ran across a huge swarm of hornets that had taken over a wood duck nesting box. By the time we got close enough to tell what they were, they were starting to look agitated. Needless to say, we made a hasty retreat.

As we made our way over to the eastern side of the lake, Fall started taking itself a bit more seriously. The clouds thickened and the wind picked up out of the northwest. Soon the temperature had dropped 10 or 15 degrees and we were paddling into a cold headwind that was raising goosebumps all over us. A short time later we reached a unanimous decision that we'd paddled enough and headed back to the warmth of my car.

I'm glad you're here, Fall, but next time we visit I'm going to dress a bit more warmly!

Closing out Summer on Luces Bayou

What a summer it's been for kayaking! The weather has been warm, but not as scorching as last year. And since we've been blessed with more rain, there's been much more water to paddle in the local lakes and streams.

Along the way I've gotten to revisit all of my favorite destinations from last year and I've discovered a few new ones like Luces Bayou. So it's fitting that I spent the last Saturday of summer paddling its waters with one special kindred spirit.

It was overcast and relatively cool on Saturday morning when we reached Ponderosa Marina. The calm and quiet were in stark contrast to my last visit when both the Houston Canoe Club and Houston Kayaking Meetup group were arriving at about the same time. We unloaded our boats, shared a quick breakfast, and then headed upstream.

Other than a handful of fisherman we had the bayou mostly to ourselves. Unless you count the herons. And the egrets. And the kingfishers. And the woodpeckers. And . . . well, you get the idea.

As the morning progressed and we made our way farther upstream, the clouds burned off and the day became quite warm. Now and then we'd pause near the cypress-shaded banks, enjoying the cooler air and soaking in the quiet -- interrupted only by the occasional call of a bird.

Eventually we turned our boats and made our way back downstream at a leisurely pace. We stopped briefly at the local "nude beach" [PHOTO REDACTED] and then finally returned to the marina.

We loaded the boats but somehow weren't quite ready to bid farewell to the bayou. As we lingered, we snacked on some cool slices of apple that tasted especially sweet in the warmth of that late summer afternoon. It was a perfect last paddle to punctuate a wonderful summer on the water.

More Pictures from Luces Bayou

Armand Bayou Delivers, but Where Are the Alligators?

The unspoiled surroundings and plentiful wildlife of Armand Bayou's upper section have made it a favorite paddling destination for as long as I've had my kayak. This weekend's paddle was true to form, with one notable exception.

After launching from Bay Area Park shortly after sunrise, we headed upstream with the goal of paddling until we ran out of bayou. The surface of the water was relatively calm except where it was disturbed by the leaping of mullet and skittering splashes of startled minnows. In the shallows, herons, egrets, and other wading birds patiently scanned the waters for their prey, while ospreys did the same from the treetops.

As the bayou nears Red Bluff road, the channel forks. Straight ahead, the bayou crosses under the road and becomes ditch-like in character. But to the left, the channel begins to narrow and wind. During past paddles, fallen trees have always blocked the left channel not too far beyond the fork, but this visit brought a pleasant surprise. The one fallen tree that completely blocked the bayou had enough air space on the right to allow a paddler to squeeze beneath it. Beyond that point the bayou was a veritable obstacle course of partially submerged trees, but always with a path through for the careful paddler.

We soon passed the farthest point I'd reached before and continued weaving our way through the narrow shaded channel. We covered about four miles and crossed under a set of high voltage power lines before an obstruction we couldn't readily pass forced us to turn around. After "reloading" one kayaker who ended up in the water after a close encounter with a spider, we headed back toward the launch.

One thing we didn't see during this paddle was an alligator. And I didn't see one during my previous paddle on the Old River, or the one before that at Pickett's Bayou, or the one before that at Luces Bayou, or even the one before that at Sheldon Lake. In fact, I don't think I've run across an alligator all summer. That seems odd, since these are all places I would expect to see them. Maybe I've just been unlucky? Maybe it's because I've typically been paddling with larger groups? I'm not sure, but I hope the pattern won't continue indefinitely. Seeing alligators swimming the channel or sunning on the bank provides a welcome connection to the wild!

EDIT: I'd no sooner posted this blog entry than I noticed one of my fellow paddlers did get a picture of an alligator floating suspended in the water with only eyes and nose showing. Apparently the vanguard of the group got a fairly long look at him before he finally gave up the staring contest and submerged. So, maybe all is as it should be!