Skinny dipping, porcupines and a crunched canoe: Four glorious days on the Devils River

Skinny dipping, porcupines and a crunched canoe: Four glorious days on the Devils River

The water on the Devils River is as clear as gin. Chris LeBlanc photo

I paid a toll to Satan last week, when I paddled the clearest, most pristine river in Texas, the Devils.
It was worth the price.
On day three of the four-day trip down the prettiest ribbon of turquoise water I’ve ever seen, my husband and I pinned our aluminum canoe against a boulder at Indian Creek Rapid. The Devil tipped our boat on its side, and we watched in horror as it filled with water. We fought for 10 minutes to free it, and when it finally busted loose with a sickening crunch, the Devil had had its way.
In the end, we gathered all our gear and chased our half-sunk boat down. She’s twisted out of alignment and doesn’t steer quite right, but we’re working to bend her back into shape. And despite the carnage, I loved the trip.

Jimmy Harvey, left, and Chris LeBlanc, right, survey the damage after we crunched our canoe in Indian Creek Rapids. Pam LeBlanc photo


Chris LeBlanc paddles around a boulder. Pam LeBlanc photo


Something about paddling a West Texas river sets me free. I paddled the Devils three years ago, and the Pecos River two years ago. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but the Devils can’t be beat for spring-fed swimming holes and incredible pure Texas scenery.
We drove out on a Saturday, and stayed at a rental house operated by guide Gerald Bailey. We left his place at 6:30 a.m. the next morning, so we could to the put-in at Baker’s Crossing by 8:30.
We planned a leisurely trip. The Devils is all about lollygagging, not racking up miles as quickly as you can.

To run the river, you’ve got two options: Get a Devils River Access Permit from Texas Parks and Wildlife, which allows you to pitch a tent at any of the designated paddle camps between Baker’s Crossing and the Dan Hughes (lower) unit of the Devils River State Natural Area; or camp on islands as you go. Whatever you do, don’t trespass on private land along the way.
If you go all the way to Dan Hughes, it’s a 30-mile trip. (You can also paddle all the way to Rough Canyon Marina at Lake Amistad, but you’ll have to paddle through notoriously choppy lake water and reed mazes to get to the point at Mile 47 if you do.) We took out at Bailey’s place at Mile 22.
We loaded our canoes with coolers filled with steaks, sausage and thick pork chops, home-grown tomatoes, eggs, bagels and coffee. Our third amigo, Jimmy Harvey, took over as expedition chef, and we toasted the stars every night with beer, wine and whiskey.
A few words of caution. This river isn’t for novices. The rapids – especially Three Tier Rapids and Indian Creek Rapids – can mangle boats or snap legs, and if disaster hits, you’re a long way from rescue. We carried a Garmin InReach tracker so we could call for help in event of emergency.
Prepare to get in and out of your boat a lot, especially if the flow at Baker’s Crossing is below 100 cfs. (It was about 82 cfs when we went in late June.) We hit lots of bony sections where we ran aground and had to drag short distances. A composite canoe works better than aluminum, which tends to stick to the rough limestone rock like Velcro.

Jimmy Harvey and Chris LeBlanc portage a canoe around Dolan Falls. Pam LeBlanc photo

Pam LeBlanc relaxes in a hammock while camping on an island in the Devils River. Chris LeBlanc photo


The rapids build as the miles tick past. The first day, we glided over a few easy riffles. The second, we encountered bigger rapids around Sycamore Chutes. We got out to scout, and Jimmy pointed out a channel so skinny I wondered if our boat would fit. It did and we slid through, reeds slapping us in the face and Chris pushing off rocks with his paddle. We shot over a last big drop by Game Warden Rock, then forged into a headwind as the river flattened out again.
The scenery along the river reminds me of an old Western movie – cactus- and brush-covered hillsides, dotted with big, cracked boulders. A herd of feral hogs galloping across the river. Circling vultures. A pair of porcupines snoozing in a couple of trees. And, best of all, an endless procession of swimming holes – deep, clear pools of water that make me swoon. That kind of water’s best felt against your skin, so I peeled off my clothes and skinny dipped.
Jimmy cast his fly rod as we went, reeling in fish after fish and tossing it back. (Bass are catch and release only here, to protect the wild population.)
The biggest obstacle along the way comes at Dolan Falls, at Mile 16. You have to empty all the gear out of your boat and portage around the plunging water before loading up and pushing off again. We managed just fine, but choose your footing carefully.
We passed a few stray paddle kayakers on the river, but no other campers on multi-day trips. High season is usually April and May; June can be (and was) hot and dry. Check flow before you go, pack personal flotation devices and make sure you’re skilled enough to handle the river.

A porcupine naps in a tree along the Devils River. Pam LeBlanc photo

If you make the trip, you’ll understand what makes it so special, and why an organization called the Devils River Conservancy (www.devilsriverconservancy.org) works so hard to keep it clean. The non-profit organization was formed in 2011 to protect it from threats that include invasive species, recreational over-use, land fragmentation, over-pumping of groundwater and more.
Read about my 2018 trip down the Pecos River at http://specials.mystatesman.com/pecos-river/.
And read about my previous trip down the Devils River here https://tpwmagazine.com/archive/2017/nov/ed_3_devilsriver/index.phtml.

The Devils River serves up classic West Texas beauty. Pam LeBlanc photo

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam

Looking for a sweet creek to explore? Wade up Bull Creek

Looking for a sweet creek to explore? Wade up Bull Creek

Chris LeBlanc relaxes in Bull Creek. Pam LeBlanc photo

Most parks around Austin have reopened, but actually getting in one lately can feel like trying to get a reservation at the most popular restaurant in town.
Day-use slots fill up quickly at state parks. Barton Springs requires a reservation (unless you go between 6-8 a.m.) and the Barton Creek Greenbelt is too crowded for comfort.
So where have I been getting my dose of Mother Nature? Lately, the far reaches of Bull Creek.
I used to slosh through Bull Creek when I was 8 or 9 years old, once cut a massive gash in my foot there during a day camp and had to be carried out, and got engaged on its banks when I was 33. The key these days is walking far enough up the creek that your only company is the tiny frogs, nesting sunfish and giant spiders.
If you park along Winding Ridge Boulevard, just on the west side of Capital of Texas Highway (the park has multiple entrances), you can walk down to the creek and wade upstream a quarter of a mile. Even on a busy Saturday, you probably won’t find many others beyond the area closes to the road. Look closely – up on the right bank, you can see the rusting hulk of an old, old car. Keep going and you’ll find plenty of big boulders to climb. The rock skipping’s great. So’s the fish watching.
If you want to kayak or canoe, you can access West Bull Creek from Lakewood Drive just north of FM 2222. Be careful where you walk – most of the land along the road is private property, and it’s marked No Trespassing. But if you turn left along the guardrail and follow the narrow trail toward the FM 2222 bridge, you can get to the deeper part of the creek. Put in boats under the bridge and paddle downstream, toward the fire station and County Line restaurant. Or wade through shallow water for a cool hangout spot upstream. (Again, stay in the creek; don’t wander onto privately owned land.)

Pam LeBlanc paddles a canoe in a cove near Pennybacker Bridge, where Bull Creek opens into Lake Austin. Chris LeBlanc photo


Downstream, the creek widens and you’ll emerge into a large cove that opens onto Lake Austin near the Pennybacker Bridge.
We took our Alumacraft canoe there recently, and loved jumping in the water and practicing getting back in the boat in deep water. We also saw a snake, so keep an eye peeled.
You never know what you’ll find. I’ve been spending a lot of time in the area lately, and have spotted a turtle the size of a pecan, a heron hunting for food and lots of minnows. The best part? Stretching out in a Pam-sized rut carved into the limestone bed and reveling in the feeling of water rushing over my skin.
For more information about Bull Creek District Park, go to https://austinparks.org/bull-creek/.

Chris LeBlanc cools off in Bull Creek. Pam LeBlanc photo

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam

I did an online chocolate tasting, and here’s what I thought about four Utah brands

I did an online chocolate tasting, and here’s what I thought about four Utah brands

I learned about these four Utah chocolates during an online class. Pam LeBlanc photo


An assortment of chocolates arrived at my doorstep the other day, and even though I wouldn’t describe myself as a chocaholic, I certainly didn’t turn it away.
The haul? Class materials for an upcoming online session from Utah U, in the form of four fancy bars of chocolate. When you can’t travel places, the next best thing is eating food made there.
On the designated evening, I logged into Zoom for an hour-long virtual chocolate tasting with chocolate expert Matt Caputo, chief executive officer of Tony Caputo’s Market and Deli in Salt Lake City, Utah. Besides selling an assortment of booze, coffee, chocolate, deli items and sandwiches, Caputo’s offers classes designed to familiarize you with all those things.
My stash included a little bit of Dove chocolate, the kind you can buy at the nearest grocery store, for comparison, plus four packets of what appeared to be Very Good Chocolate.
We had ground rules. Nibble chocolate with bourbon, water or just about anything you like – except red wine. It just doesn’t work, Caputo told us.
Stay thoughtful while you nibble. Like wine, he told us, different chocolates have different terroir, the characteristic taste and flavor imparted to a product from a particular region.
Caputo should know. He claims he eats a quarter to a half pound (!) of chocolate (for work, of course) every day. We asked if he’d ever eaten M&Ms before, and he said he had – as a topping on frozen yogurt. “They were OK candy,” he said. “But did I taste cacao? No, I absolutely did not.”
I arranged all the bars in front of me, poured myself a shot of bourbon, and bit off a piece of chocolate.
“Slow down, be present and don’t just chomp, chomp, chomp,” Caputo instructed. “Try to describe what you’re tasting.”
We sampled the Dove first. Creamy, ordinary, nothing wrong with it. “What you’re smelling in grocery store chocolate is vanilla, not cacao,” Caputo said. “The average grocery store bar that says 70 percent cocoa has only 18 percent cocoa solids. The rest is cocoa butter.”
Then, one at a time, cleansing our palate in between each sample, we tried the good stuff. Each bar was made in Utah, and each tasted surprisingly unique.
Here’s a wrapup:

This vegan bar uses honey instead of sugar for sweetening power. Pam LeBlanc photo

Conspiracy, Salt Lake City, $6.99 to $11.99
This company makes “raw” chocolate, meaning it’s not roasted. It also uses raw honey instead of sugar for sweetening power. We sampled the company’s Brewing Baba Black Lager bar, which tasted less sweet and felt denser than the others. I liked the honeycomb design of the bar’s shape, but preferred the flavor of the others over this one.

We sampled a special edition Ritual chocolate made with cacao from Trinidad. Pam LeBlanc photo


Ritual, Park City, $8.99 to $11.99
This craft chocolate got started in Colorado, but has since moved its headquarters to Utah. Served up in a sexy paper envelope, it’s made with just two ingredients – cacao and sugar. We sampled a limited edition bar made with cacao from the Jagassar Estate in Trinidad, and I detected an earthy, nutty tone and a silky texture.

I could taste hints of apricot in this bar made with cacao from the Dominican Republic. Pam LeBlanc photo


Amano, Orem, $7.99
This one comes from the most award-winning chocolate maker in America, and a pioneer of the Utah chocolate scene. Our sample bar was made with lightly- roasted cacao from the Dominican Republic, smooth cocoa butter and vanilla notes. You can taste the apricot and floral notes. It ranked as my second favorite.

My favorite was this bar from Solstice. Pam LeBlanc photo


Solstice, Salt Lake City, $8.99 to $13.99
I liked this one best, and Caputo describes it as “loud and brash, like punk rockers of the craft chocolate world,” which makes complete sense. We ate a bar made with Sambirano cacao grown in Madagascar, and I could actually taste hints of tropical fruit and molasses.

Caputo takes his chocolate seriously. It’s not just a treat, a whole culture surrounds the art of chocolate making.
“Sometimes it feels like a fight to preserve tradition, and the weapons are spreading love, knowledge and understanding,” Caputo said of the chocolate making world.
So, what should you look for when you’re picking one out?
“First and foremost, look at price,” Caputo said. “If it’s under $5, there’s a reason. Someone’s not getting treated well – Mother Earth, the farmer or the co-op. It’s hard to do chocolate cheaply. That doesn’t mean you can equate price with quality.”
He suggests finding a specialty store or someone at the local market with knowledge about chocolate. Familiarize yourself with a handful of trusted chocolate makers, then follow your gut – or, rather, your tastebuds.

Next up, whiskey tasting!

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam

Virtual launch of fly fishing book by local author set for Saturday

Virtual launch of fly fishing book by local author set for Saturday

Chris Johnson, left, and Aaron Reed, right, fly fish in Brushy Creek in early March 2020. Pam LeBlanc photo


A few months ago, I spent a few hours casting in Brushy Creek with local fly fisherman (and tugboat driver) Aaron Reed, and Chris Johnson, owner of Living Waters Fly Fishing in Round Rock.
We waded through knee deep water, hiked alongside a gorgeous grayish-white escarpment, and prowled after fish we could see lurking in the shadows. They caught a bunch; I got a few nibbles.
As we fished, we talked about Reed’s new book, “Fly Fishing Austin & Central Texas” (Imbrifex, $24.95), which includes tips about the best places and techniques for fishing right here at home.
The book arrived from the printer just as the coronavirus pandemic hit, and the book signing Reed had scheduled for May got postponed. This Saturday, he’d do a virtual launch of the guidebook with Davin Topel (Real Spirits Distilling) and Dustin Scott (Heart Wood Trade). The event starts at 5:30 p.m. on Scott’s site, https://heartwoodtrade.com/live/.

Aaron Reed will host a visual launch of his new fly fishing guide on Saturday. Pam LeBlanc photo


The show will celebrate the entire central Texas Fly Fishing community and will include giveaways, prizes and music. Special guests will include Alana Louise Lyons, Edgar Diaz, Josh Crumpton, Jeff Troutman, David Fason, Chris Johnson, Matt Bennett, Chris Barclay and others. The event is free and open to the public, and should last about 90 minutes.
And in case you needed a reminder, fly fishing is one of those activities that makes sense right now. You can do it away from crowds, in a safe, socially distant way. Plus, some quiet time in nature always soothes frayed nerves.

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam

A takeaway from chasing kayakers up the Texas coast? Our beaches are trashed

A takeaway from chasing kayakers up the Texas coast? Our beaches are trashed

We found trash at nearly every campsite where we stopped along the coast. The only exception? Small barrier islands. Pam LeBlanc photo


One thing I noticed as I chased the 3rd Coast Cowboys Epic Kayak Journey up the Texas coast the last two weeks?
Trash.
From the first night, when I camped at Mansfield Cut, the passage between North and South Padre Islands, to the finish point at Walter Umphrey State Park near Port Arthur, nearly every place we pitched a tent or delivered supplies to the team was fouled with discarded plastic bottles, food wrappers and beer cans.
Hopping from boulder to boulder on jetties, I spotted trash in every nook and cranny. I found toilet paper in the sand dunes, where endangered sea turtles nest. So much trash, along with a collection of old tires, was strewn around one spot on Bolivar Peninsula where the paddlers camped that it looked like a dump. (And, in a way, I guess it was.)

Jimmy Harvey sets up his tent on a small barrier island in Matagorda Bay. Islands like this were mostly trash free. Pam LeBlanc photo

As we made our way up the coast, the only places not buried in trash were the islands accessible only by boat. There, bright green grass waved in the breeze, and gray and white pieces of driftwood stood out like bones.
I’ve never understood the mentality of litterers. Do they think it’s someone else’s job to clean up after them? Do they think trash disappears? Do they think pristine beaches and fields look better caped in discarded tents (yes, we saw that), Fritos bags and broken coolers?
People fishing seem to be particularly piggish. I found bait packages, fishing line, broken awnings, single-use grocery bags and snack containers.
I brought spare trash bags with me on the second half of the trip, so I could pick up some of the refuse. Not a pleasant pastime, and it hardly made a dent, but I’m kind of obsessive-compulsive. It made me feel a teensy bit better.
Think about it. If every person who visited a park or beach picked up a few extra pieces of garbage left by someone else, we could make a difference.
Please, Take 3 for the Sea.

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam

I singlehandedly fixed a flat on an F150 and it made me feel like Wonder Woman

I singlehandedly fixed a flat on an F150 and it made me feel like Wonder Woman

First I had to figure out how to lower the spare from beneath the truck. Pam LeBlanc photo


Anybody got a truck tire they’d like me to change?
I’m still smiling after single-handedly changing a tire on my husband’s Ford F150 pickup truck after flatting out on a remote stretch of two-lane road while chasing kayakers paddling up the Texas coast.
I was zipping down State Highway 87 past Sea Rim State Park when the highway dead ended at a barricade with a “road closed” sign. I sighed, ditched the idea of one final photo opportunity with the team before they finished, then executed a three-point turn to retrace my steps. I figured I’d just stop at the state park (I’d never been) and do a little bird watching to fill the time.
Then, 2 minutes later, the tire pressure sensor on the dashboard of the truck lit up. The rear right tire was losing pressure. I limped into a pullout on the side of the road.
Seriously? Today? In just three hours the paddlers would likely finish their trip, and I’d need at least 45 minutes to drive to where they’d land.
I phoned Erich Schlegel, a photographer who had come down to shoot pictures of the mini-expedition. He promised to rescue me as soon as he checked out from his hotel in Winnie, an hour and 15 minutes from where I stood.
I pulled out my cameras. I might as well take some bird photos while I waited. I wandered up into the grass, where a bee stung the crap out of my neck.

Turns out changing a flat tire on an F150 pickup truck isn’t so hard. Pam LeBlanc photo

Then I reconsidered. What kind of adventure writer sends up a flare and waits for someone to bail her out? I’d at least try to fix that flat. How hard could it be?
I pulled out the vehicle’s owner manual. Called a few friends for moral support. Dug out the jack and tool kit.
Then I set up my tripod and clicked on the self-timer feature. If I was going to do this, I wanted photographic evidence.
I placed rocks in front of the truck’s front tires and assembled the lug wrench. It took a while, but I figured out how to feed the tool into a tiny hole in the back of the truck to access a knob I needed to turn to lower the spare from where it hung beneath the belly of the truck. I “broke” the lug nuts, stepping on the wrench to get enough leverage. I placed the jack beneath the axle, and texted a picture to my husband to make sure I had it correctly positioned.
Then I cranked up the jack.
So far, so good. Sweat was starting to seep out of my body in uncomfortable places, but I was making steady, if slow, progress. I chugged from a bottle of cold Gatorade.
Then, pausing to check the manual laid out on the asphalt before me, I loosened the lug nuts the rest of the way, and dragged the filthy spare closer to the wheel well. I wrestled the huge, ruined tire from the hubs, took a few minutes to inspect two pieces of sharp metal imbedded in its tread, then rolled the tire aside.
About this time, Schlegel showed up.
I flexed my arm muscle at him, jumped up and down a few times (I can’t contain my enthusiasm sometimes), and warned him to not even think about lending a hand. He smiled, stepped back, and watched from afar.
With a few tips from Schlegel, I sat on the ground in front of the tire and used my knees to lift the spare onto the wheel studs and make sure it was properly seated. Then I attached the lug nuts. I tightened them, lowered the truck to the ground, and tightened them one more time.
The final move? Hoisting the enormous flat tire into the bed of the pickup truck. (I sliced open my shin in the process.)
The task complete, I spun around and ran at Schlegel, leaped up for a mighty high five, and whooped with happiness. Sometimes, the simplest things are the best. I’ve rarely felt so empowered.
And then, the icing on the cake: Schlegel told me he had something for me. He reached into his truck, then handed over a paper sack with a warm cheeseburger inside. A victory meal!
Turns out that flat tire was the best thing that happened all day.

I did it! Photo by Erich Schlegel

About Pam

I’m Pam LeBlanc. Follow my blog to keep up with the best in outdoor travel and adventure. Thanks for visiting my site.

Where is Pam?

Click to open a larger map

Follow Pam