These mid-weight Injinji toe socks are made for trail running. Pam LeBlanc photo

I first heard about Injinji toe socks about 15 years ago, when I hiked 27 miles on the Good Water Trail around Lake Georgetown with a group of retirees from the Sun City Hiking Club.

By the end of the all-day hike, I was hobbling, thanks to two blisters the size of unshelled pecans that had sprouted on my heels. One of the seniors suggested I try the socks, which look like something I might have worn in the 1970s, with separate cups for each little piggy.

Before my next hike, I purchased a pair. (Whole Earth Provision Co. and REI carry them locally.) I wore them, and voila – no blisters. Since then, I always wear Injinjis when I’ll be walking long distances. They got me through a 15-day backpacking trip on the John Muir Trail, a week in Glacier National Park and another week on the High Sierra Trail, all without blisters.

Testing the socks

Last week, a public relations company mailed me three new packs of the socks to test – one midweight, mini crew length pair ($16) specifically for trail running; one ultra-thin pair of anklets for road running ($13); and a set of thick socks without toes and an accompanying pair of ultra-thin toe liners ($29) for hiking.

At left, the Injinji hiking socks plus liners; at right the lightweight running socks, all by Injinji. Pam LeBlanc photo

I’ll admit, they feel a little weird when you first put them on if you’re not used to them. Once you put your shoes on, though, you hardly notice the difference. And the five-toe design swaddles each toe, preventing toe-on-toe friction and wicking moisture.

They work like a charm for me. I especially love the trail runners, when in the close-up photo at the top, which come up just above the ankle to keep out debris.

I’m planning to wear the hikers plus liners – or maybe the trail runners – when I hike from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon down to Phantom Ranch in a few weeks to join a passing group of whitewater rafters. And I’m sure I’ll get on that raft without a blister to slow me down.

Carrie Arnold rides the Great Escape Trail at Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area. Pam LeBlanc photo

Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area just moved up a notch on my list of favorite places to ride a mountain bike in Central Texas.

I spent Saturday morning zipping along the Great Escape Trail, which served up tight turns, a few ledgy drops, some fast zoomy stretches and plenty of shade, making it a perfect place to grind out miles on a hot summer day. Afterward, I plunged directly into Lake Travis to cool off.

I last visited Muleshoe Bend in May, when I parked Vincent VanGo, my all-wheel drive campervan, in one of the park’s 34 campsites, and explored some of the park’s trails during a guided night hike.

This time, though, I could see where I was going, and I covered a lot more of the park’s network of trails.

Cyclists walk their bikes down a tricky stretch of trail at Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area. Pam LeBlanc photo

Mountain biking feels a lot more natural than road riding. You hear the gravel crunch under your tires, you get slapped in the face by the occasional tree branch, and you don’t have to worry about getting hit by a car.

The Lower Colorado River Authority acquired this property as six separate tracts beginning in 1939 for the creation of Lake Travis. In the 1990s it began managing the 615-acre parcel as a park for recreation. The Austin Ridge Riders built Muleshoe’s network of biking trails, which includes the 6.5-mile main Great Escape Trail plus six short add-on loops and helps maintain them today.

It’s known for bluebonnet viewing in the spring as much as biking trails and added a boat ramp in 2015. Equestrians and hikers are welcome on designated multi-use trails, but cyclists who encounter horses should dismount and let the animals pass to avoid spooking them.

Chris LeBlanc rides the Great Escape Trail at Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area. Pam LeBlanc photo

Here are half a dozen things to love about Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area:

1. Almost 10 miles of single-track to explore. I love to ride my bike, but I’m not an aggressive or particularly skilled mountain biker. The Great Escape Trail fit the bill, with some exposed roots and rocks, a few short and steep inclines and drops, and lots of fast twisty stretches.
2. Clean facilities. The restroom building next to the park entrance has flushing toilets – “not prison toilets without a seat,” as my friend puts it – and an outdoor shower.
3. Campsites with a view. The campsites are nicely spaced along the lakefront, the grass is lush and everyone’s within walking distance of the water.
4. Kayak and standup paddleboard rentals. You can borrow a boat or board for $10 per hour (minimum two hours) on Thursday through Sunday during the summer.
5. No crowds. Arrive before 10 a.m. and you’ll have no trouble getting a parking spot and you won’t encounter much traffic on the bike trails.
6. The park host. She’s one of the friendliest, most helpful park employees I’ve ever encountered. Meet her once and you won’t forget her – and she’ll probably remember you the next time you visit.

Pam LeBlanc relaxes next to her campervan, Vincent VanGo. Chris LeBlanc photo

Muleshoe Bend Recreation Area is located at 2820 County Road 414 in Spicewood. Entry fee is $5 adults; free 12 and younger. Standard campsites cost $25 per night.

West Hansen, who paddled the entire Amazon River in 2012 and the entire Volga River two years later, relaxes after a paddle training session on Lady Bird Lake in May 2021. Pam LeBlanc photo

West Hansen won’t lead a kayaking expedition through the Northwest Passage this summer as planned, but he will paddle across Alabama instead.

Hansen, who paddled the entire Amazon River in 2012 and the entire Volga River in Russia two years later, will compete this September as a solo paddler in the Great Alabama 650. The news comes a few weeks after Hansen postponed the Arctic Cowboys 1,900-mile expedition through the Canadian Arctic Archipelago for the second time, due to the Covid pandemic.

The Alabama race, which promises warmer temperatures and an alligator or two instead of polar bears, starts Sept. 18 at Weiss Lake in northeast Alabama and finishes at Fort Morgan in Mobile Bay. Paddlers, who compete either solo or in two-person teams, have 10 days to complete the event, the self-proclaimed “toughest paddle race in the United States.”

West Hansen, who paddled the entire Amazon River in 2012, paddles the 2021 Texas Water Safari. Pam LeBlanc photo

Then again, the Texas Water Safari, the 260-mile race from San Marcos to the Texas Coast that Hansen has completed 21 times, makes the same claim.

Hansen will bring four boats, including a plastic surf ski, to Alabama for the race, switching vessels as needed depending on conditions. The route, which follows the Coosa, the Alabama, and the Mobile rivers, features an 8-mile stretch of whitewater with Class 2 and 3 rapids.

“It was kind of a last-minute gig when things looked like they weren’t going to happen in the Arctic,” Hansen says. “I got on the wait list for this thing and was surprised when the (organizer) called last week and asked me if I wanted to do it.”

A maximum of 20 paddlers – five each in four categories – can compete. As of today, three spaces remained open. The top male and female solo finishers, along with the top two-person team, will each win a $2,000 prize.

Two Texans, Mollie Binion and Holly Orr, finished second in the tandem division and fourth overall in the 2020 race, and two more, Bill Siersdorfer and Scottie Trevino, plan to compete this year.

Top teams typically finish the race in six to seven days. Hansen considers veteran endurance paddler Salli O’Donnell, who grew up in Alabama and competed at Auburn University as a gymnast before blowing her knee out, among his toughest competition.

“She’s a badass racer,” Hansen says of O’Donnell. “She’s almost won the Safari outright in solo, almost won the Missouri River 340 outright in solo, and almost won Alabama twice solo. She was edged out by guys in all these races at pretty much the last minute. I think she’s pretty formidable.”

West Hansen, who paddled the entire Amazon River in 2012, paddles through the Intra Coastal Waterway in 2020. Pam LeBlanc photo

Hansen’s own resume is packed with paddling accomplishments. He’s won the Missouri River 340, a 340-mile paddle race down the Missouri River whose website helpfully notes, “this ain’t no mama’s boy float trip,” four times overall, including once as a solo paddler.

Hansen this year completed the Texas Water Safari, in which he and teammate Allen Spelce still hold a record set in 1997 in the USCA C-2 category, for the 21^st time. He has racked up category and overall wins in an array of regional races.

Unlike the 260-mile Water Safari, during which top finishers forego sleeping, paddlers in the 650-mile Alabama race stop to rest along the way. Hansen hasn’t yet determined if he’ll stop a few times for longer stretches of sleep, or more frequently for shorter naps. He’s now assembling a bank crew that will support him as he makes his way down the rivers.

West Hansen, who paddled the entire Amazon River in 2012 and the Volga River in Russia two years later, prepares to paddle Lady Bird Lake in Austin during the February snow storm. Pam LeBlanc photo

Hansen says he’s excited to compete.

“I’m also anxious. It’s a new race I’ve never done on a river I’ve never paddled, and a distance I’ve never done,” he says. “All the variables make me anxious.”

But the race gives Hansen, who works part time as a social worker in East Texas and part time in Austin doing construction projects, a goal to get in shape, cut out junk food and booze, and provide some needed time away from the buzz of modern life. “And it’s nice to see what I can do, to push myself a bit,” he says.

In the meantime, he’s giving up checking ice flows and temperatures in the Arctic for now.

“It’s nice to step back from the Arctic expedition,” he says. “It’s kind of nice to let that go.”

Pam LeBlanc drives her Ski Nautique boat toward Pennybacker Bridge. Chris LeBlanc photo

I can’t think of a better way to start an Austin day than with a water skiing session.

Water sooths my soul, and getting out on the lake and using my muscles jolts me awake. Plus, my husband Chris and I go early, so instead of other people, we get to mingle with swans, ducks and turtles that are just waking up. It’s our private time, before the bustle of the day begins and we have to face our real lives.

Chris LeBlanc enjoys an early morning ski run on Lake Austin. Pam LeBlanc photo

Chris already owned a boat when I met him 24 years ago. (Not the same one.) I’d skied once or twice growing up but didn’t really know how to ski hard. Then, when I turned 40, a friend who was a former state champion skier took me under his wing. We spent a summer practicing, and by September I could run a slalom course, a series of buoys set up so skiers can weave through them.

Today, Chris and I keep our 1998 Ski Nautique on our driveway in Allandale and tow it to Walsh Landing on mornings we want to ski.

At 19 feet and 6 inches long, our boat is small by comparison to other boats on Lake Austin. With an inboard, direct drive motor, it’s designed to create as small a wake as possible so a skier can zip across it without changing body position. Most speed boats on the lake these days are designed to create a big wave suitable for surfing. That’s bad for us – when a surf boat goes by, we wait for the water to settle so we can ski. You can’t water ski over waves.

Pam LeBlanc stands with her water ski on her boat on Lake Austin. Chris LeBlanc photo

That’s why we get up early, and ski as the sun rises.

We’re efficient – it takes about 10 minutes to get to the boat ramp from our house, and another 5 minutes to launch. Chris backs the truck and trailer down into the water, and I back the boat off the trailer into the lake. (When we’re finished Chris hops off to get the truck, and I drive the boat back onto the trailer from the lake.)

We ski for an hour or a little more most days. That’s just enough time for each of us to get in two or three solid runs, with bonus time for parking in Bull Creek cove or beneath Mount Bonnell to skinny dip before we head in. I love the feel of water on my naked body.

Pam leBlanc skis on Lake Austin in November 2020. Chris LeBlanc photo

We ski at least once a week during the warm months, and here in Austin those warm months last a very long time. Last year I made my last run in early November, just as trees were turning color and the lake steamed like a hot cup of tea.

If you’re driving over the Pennybacker Bridge early on a Sunday, look onto the lake. If you see a small boat pulling a skier, it might be me.

I’m the one with the big grin on my face.