RIDING THE RIO
Photo by Charles Angell
With the flow of the Rio Grande higher than any time since the flood in 2008, a kayaker starts the journey downriver from Colorado Canyon.
by Charles Angell
W
e woke up just
before dawn on
the banks of the
Rio Grande, covered in dew.
To save time we’d camped in
the open without tents, and the
river’s banks are among the few
places in this desert with
enough moisture in the air to
dampen you.
It was a day in mid-Septem -
ber, and Robert, Tim, David
and I were excited about our
river-running trip. The water
level and current flow were
higher than they had been at
any time since the flood of the
Rio Grande in 2008. We have
all logged many hours floating
the river, and we knew this trip
would be a rare treat. We
would be able to cover as many
miles in a single day as it would
normally take a three- to four-
day trip to traverse.
12
Our plan was to start here,
at our campsite in Big Bend
Ranch State Park at the Grassy
Banks put-in and take out in
Big Bend National Park at the
Santa Elena Canyon exit, a trip
of about 27 miles. Our vessels
would be inflatable kayaks, also
known as “duckies,” which are
easily maneuverable and the
most fun crafts in which to run
the river.
Within minutes we were fly-
ing down the river, slamming
through Fresno Rapids and
passing by the Contrabando
movie set, which from the water
at sunrise looks picturesque and
realistic enough that you expect
to see an abuela sweeping off
her front steps while chickens
patter through the dust.
Soon we were cruising by
the old rock house on the River
Road and then past Lajitas and
the traditional river crossing
that takes you to the village of
Paso Lajitas, which is situated
just up the riverbank from
Lajitas on the Mexican side.
A calm stretch of river with a
swift current carried us along for
the next 3 miles, floating us past
the Lajitas golf course, with its
now-defunct 18th hole on the
Mexican side – a victim of the
big flood and Sept. 11.
Our
first
challenge
approached not long after the
golf course: Matadero Rapids.
The river here makes a series of
turbulent drops for approxi-
mately 150 yards and then
abruptly turns a hard right, and
the rapids sucked us close to a
sharp limestone ledge on the
Texas side. One after another,
in close succession, we success-
fully negotiated the whitewater
and grouped afterward, all
Cenizo
First Quarter 2011
grins, proud of how profession-
al we looked. I leaned around
to congratulate everyone
behind me with a hi-five – and
splash! I fell out of the kayak
into the cold morning water,
first to bathe and first to wipe
out – and in a calm stretch of
water no less. Robert, consum-
mate professional that he is,
chuckled and shook his head,
grinning at my lack of balance
as he paddled by.
Robert has by far the most
experience of us all, and we
consider him the wise sage of
river-running, even though
David and I are each a decade-
plus older than he is. David is
the newest to the Rio, but he
has compiled an impressive
amount of time on water and a
strong set of skills in the last
year, and after any river trip it’s
great to have a few beers at the
bar in Terlingua where he
works.
Tim and I have worked
together guiding trips for the
last couple years and try to get
on the water as often as possible
when not working. By the way,
is there a better name for a
river guide than Tim Rowe?
The next several miles were
fast and smooth, no paddling
needed, just steering and posi-
tioning. Several ducks splashed
off the river and flew down-
stream several hundred yards, a
process that repeated itself
each time we caught up to
them, until finally they figured
it out and flew behind us,
upstream.
The terrain became more
impressive during this stretch,
the limestone and red magma
cliffs getting closer and closer to
the water and growing in