Heads up, cold water swimmers. The pandemic has frozen plans for the 2021 Polar Bear Plunge at Barton Springs Pool.

City officials have cancelled the event “after careful consideration of the local characteristics of the virus and related community priorities.” Barton Springs Pool won’t open at all on Jan. 1, 2021. 

I rode my bike to Barton Springs Pool last New Year’s Day and jumped into the 70-degree waters. I even met a guy dressed in a red, white and blue onesie, who told me he was there because he’d lost a fantasy football bet. And no, the water itself isn’t that bad. It’s getting out, when a breeze hits your wet body, that gets uncomfortable.

Dozens of other folks gathered to take the plunge.

Austin Parks and Recreation Department officials are asking people who have made the New Year’s Day plunge at Barton Springs in the past to share photos or videos on social media, using the hashtag #polarplungeatx. For more information on city pool schedules, go to austintexas.gov/pools. 

It’s been nearly two years since the chairlift started turning at Spider Mountain near Burnet, where mountain bikers get a ride up the hill so they can focus on the fun part – going down.

This week the park announced expanded holiday hours. My verdict? Get out there as fast as you can.

I’ve visited the park a couple of times, and love how it’s divided into beginner, intermediate and advanced trails. I stick to the easy routes, but more skilled riders can tackle one called Tarantula, with wooden ramps and curves, plus daunting obstacles suitable for launching yourself skyward.

They all deliver a jolt of adrenalin.

In addition to its usual Friday through Sunday hours, the park will be open from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Dec. 18-21 and Dec. 26-31. It will also be open noon to 4:30 on Jan. 1, and 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Jan. 2-4.

Guests must wear masks except while they are riding.

A bit of trivia: The very same lift that now carries bikes up a Central Texas hill once carried skiers to the top of Al’s Run at Taos Ski Resort. (And I’ve ridden that lift when it was in New Mexico!) One-time Austin resident and overgrown-kid-in-disguise James Coleman, managing partner of Mountain Capital Partners, which owns six ski resorts around the country, purchased the lift, had it disassembled and trucked to Central Texas, where it’s now doing duty at the only lift-served bike park in Texas (and only year-round lift-served bike park in the country.)

The park is located at 200 Greenwood Hills Trail outside Burnet. For more information go to SpiderMountain.com.

 

 

 

 

Take one look at my legs and you’ll have no trouble figuring out how I spent this past week.
My shins? They look like someone swiped them with a Weed Eater. My nose? It collected a new sprinkling of freckles. My butt? It feels like I competed in my first rodeo.
I had a couple of work assignments in West Texas, so I tacked on a night of camping and a day of mountain biking through the desert.
First, a note. Covid is spiking in the Big Bend area right now. If you decide to go, consider the people who live there. Medical facilities are limited. Wear a mask if you’ll be indoors or around other people. Bring your own food so you don’t have to go to grocery stores or restaurants.
Big Bend National Park is partially open. You need a reservation to stay in the park’s three campgrounds, which are limiting capacity to two-thirds each. You also need reservations for drive-to campsites in the desert. The lodge is partially open, but the restaurant is closed. Also, crews are working on the paved road that leads to the Basin, and it’s closed part of the day. Check the park’s website for details and plan accordingly. Most of the park’s hiking trails are open. The exception? The hot springs historic area and all associated trails are closed. So is the Boquillas Crossing port of entry. (For the latest, go to https://www.nps.gov/bibe/planyourvisit/big-bend-covid-19-status-updates.htm).

My husband and I nabbed a reservation in the Chisos Basin Campground, where we pitched our tent, then walked over to the short Window View trail to watch the sun sink into a V-shaped notch in the Chisos Mountains. When the show ended, we headed back to camp, where we heated water for dehydrated chicken and dumplings (PackIt Gourmet is my fave!). Before bed, I interrupted a skunk that was foraging around the washroom. (I backed carefully away and avoided a good saucing, but got a close up view of its rear end.) Then I climbed into my tent for a cozy night on a cushy air mattress beneath three layers of blankets, enjoying the comforts of car camping.
The next morning, we strolled down the Window Trail to the pour off. West Texas is experiencing a drought, and I didn’t see a trickle of water. I did, though, see a flock of Mexican jays, which cooperated nicely as I snapped photos.
That afternoon, we drove down Ross Maxwell Drive, and spent a couple of hours hiking out to Mule Ears Spring, where a tiny bit of water was visible behind the ferns. The trail doesn’t offer the spectacular payoff of the South Rim or Lost Mines trails, but it does serve up beautiful, broad views of the open desert, in all its spiky glory.
After the full-quad workout of a day spent hiking, we aimed for Terlingua, where I’d reserved a room at Casa Vista Grande, a rental house on the outskirts of town. You’ve got to drive down a rough gravel road to get to the place, but the payoff is huge: Unobstructed views of the Chisos Mountains, three patios for sipping coffee or grilling steaks (we did both), and a thick-walled adobe structure with a gigantic and cushy king-sized bed and full kitchen inside. If you’re into star gazing, check it out at https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/24559952?source_impression_id=p3_1607211554_d44rr92rd%2FSHWVsx.

The next morning, we unloaded our mountain bikes and joined some long-time friends for a 26-mile scramble through arroyos, up mesas and into dry riverbeds on one of the best rides I can remember. Our guide, former Yellowstone National Park Chief Ranger Dan Sholly, pointed out an old brick factory and the ruins of a couple of rock houses, and took us to a gorgeous creek bed lined by yuccas. Our ride took us over gravel roads (public) and into private property (we had permission to enter) and at one point connected with Lajitas Trail 4 (that’s a blast, with lots of undulating single-track with dips into.)
My legs were trashed after that ride. It seems I use the tender skin on my shins to test the jabbiness of the local cacti. By the time we rolled back to the rental house, I looked like I’d gotten into a fight with Edward Scissorhands.
All the scrapes and burns, though, and even the sore butt, faded along with the color in the sky as the sun set. Terlingua puts on a great show – look east, toward the Chisos, to watch the mountains light up. A couple of homemade pitaya margaritas, made with the fruit of a native cactus, made the evening even better.
I’ve probably visited Big Bend 30 times or more. At first, it looks desolate and barren. But every time I return, I sense more life and beauty.
This trip just added to my love of the prickliest part of the Lone Star State.

My paddling buddy and I logged another run on the San Marcos River this morning, and officially (yet unofficially) decided that yeah, we might do the upcoming Texas Winter 100K paddling race.
I’ve done the race, a 62-mile dash down the Colorado River from Lady Bird Lake in Austin to Fisherman’s Park in Bastrop, twice before (three times if you include the time I just paddled part of the course, and stopped for a picnic midway just to see what competing would be like.) I’ve gotten lucky with weather every time – kind of cold at the pre-dawn race start, but reasonably comfortable during the day.
The weather doesn’t always cooperate, though. I recently interviewed several year-round paddlers for an article I wrote for a statewide magazine (check the January issue of Texas Monthly). One described in detail how ice formed on her braids and she couldn’t stop shaking the first time she did the Texas Winter 100. That scared her away for a few years, but she did eventually return and do it again.
Cold would be fine, but I draw the limit at cold and wet, which is what the race delivered in its first year, 2011. Paddlers got pelted with sleet as they made their way downstream. Depending on water flow, it can take 12 hours to finish, and that’s a long time to shiver. Still, a little discomfort does make the hot chili or stew at the finish taste even better.

Today’s leisurely run down the San Marcos, from Shady Grove Campground in Martindale to Staples Dam, reminded me of what I love about paddling this time of the year – brilliant sunshine, equally brilliant orange and gold leaves on all the trees bent over the river, and plenty of quiet. We passed a few folks out fishing, but no tubers, no campers, and no swimmers, just a bunch of turtles out sunning themselves.
We glided along, letting the breeze help push us downstream, and enjoyed the peace. It won’t be like that for the race, but for now, I’ll take it.

To register for the Texas Winter 100K, go here.

I miss the old days, eight or nine months ago, when I could climb into the truck at the spur of a moment and head to a park for a day of biking, hiking or snoozing in a hammock.
Today, most Texas state parks and regional parks require advance reservations. And if you didn’t think ahead and book a spot two weeks ago, you might be out of luck.
That’s why I’ve taken to exploring some lesser known parks in Central Texas. This weekend, I loaded my mountain bike into the pickup truck and aimed for Milton Reimers Ranch Park, west of Austin, where nobody needs a reservation.
I’d visited the park before – once, when writing about a local climbing prodigy who could scale its limestone walls like a gecko, another time to take a climbing class myself, and a couple of times to swim (naked, don’t tell!) in the Pedernales River.
This time, though, I struck out to explore some of the park’s 18 miles of mountain bike trails, which are marked green (beginner), blue (intermediate) and black (expert), just like a Colorado ski resort.
We arrived at 9 a.m., just as the parking lot was starting to fill. We warmed up with a loop on the green trail, which twists through fields of golden grass and winds through a few thickets of brush and trees. In a couple of spots, the trail narrows and you have to pedal right through the base of a forked tree trunk. (Be careful not to catch a handlebar!).
The green trail is easy but fun. You can crank up the speed, practice negotiating tight turns, and get in a great cardio workout. Near the end, you can stop at the pump track, where you can steer your bike on a wood-planked boardwalk that unfurls like an undulating ribbon. I made it through one time cleanly, but on the second try I accidentally mashed my brakes, flipped myself off the bike and ripped open my calf on one of the sharp pegs of my platform pedal.

We stopped by the truck to apply hydrogen peroxide and a bandage to staunch the blood, then headed out to try the intermediate loop. This loop reminds me of the terrain you’ll find at Slaughter Creek Trail in South Austin – steep ledgey drops, some uphill grinds, a few rock gardens and tire-grabbing roots the thickness of a boa constrictor, plus more undulating singletrack. I had to get off or dab a foot down several times, but most of it’s not extremely technical for those with good mountain biking skills.
I had to stop a few times just to catch my breath.
We skipped the black trails. I’m just not skilled enough for them.
Milton Reimers Ranch Park covers 2,417 acres and is located at 23610 Hamilton Pool Road. It’s open from 7 a.m. until dusk daily, but closes when it gets overcrowded.
Admission is $5 per person, no reservations needed.
Besides mountain bike trails and climbing, the park offers equestrian trails, monthly bird walks, night sky programs and weekly guided hikes. (All programming has been cancelled for now due to the pandemic.) Three miles front the Pedernales River; the facility is the largest parkland acquisition in the history of Travis County. Pedernales River.
I’m heading back soon to try something else – a new 2.6–mile flow trail, which opened at the park in May. The trail was built by the same folks who built trails on Spider Mountain, the only lift-served, downhill mountain bike park in Texas. It’s a 1-mile climb to get to the start gate of the flow trail at Reimers, but on the way down you’ll encounter berms, gaps, jumps and pump rollers. Read more about it at https://www.mtbproject.com/trail/7054784/reimers-flow-trail.
For more information about the park, go to https://parks.traviscountytx.gov/parks/reimers-ranch.

I’ve been exploring Texas state parks since I was a little sprout. I’ve got memories of running from a snake in the river at Pedernales Falls, catching a tiny fish with a bit of American cheese at Inks Lake, celebrating my birthday at McKinney Falls, sliding down hills covered with pine needles at Bastrop State Park and leaping off a rope swing at Garner State Park.
Someday, I’m going to fulfill my goal of visiting every last one, which is why I fell in love with a tracking map made by woodworker Julia Simmonds in Fort Worth.
I discovered the map a few months ago, while helping Chet Garner of the PBS series “The Daytripper” judge the Texas Works awards competition. The competition featured cool Texas-made stuff, from engraved spurs to bourbon, ice cream to dog shampoo. (You can see the winning products at https://www.texas.works/awards).
Simmonds started by making a national park map last year. Someone suggested making a Texas parks-themed one, and she went for it. Since Texas has so many parks, she thought it would take forever. Then the pandemic hit, and Simmonds had a lot of time on her hands.
The wooden boards come with a packet of tacks, so you can mark places that you’ve visited. They also feature a small, hand-drawn design to represent each place – a big tree represents Goose Island, for example, and a Native American figure represents Seminole Canyon.
Unlike me, Simmonds didn’t grow up pitching tents and cooking over a camp stove. Neither did her husband. “It’s just not anything we did,” she says. “I’m a late bloomer when it comes to camping.”
But woodworking runs in Simmonds’ family. Her grandfather was a skilled carpenter, and her father is a lumber salesman. “I was often with dad in the garage, just poking around getting in trouble,” she says.
Most of her boards are made of white pine, which is native to Texas. They sell for $35 to $180, depending on size. (I want the 12-inch by 17-inch one for $55.) Check out her website at https://www.etsy.com/shop/FrancesAndTheFir.