From an early age I was encouraged by my father to enjoy the many gifts that pour from the rivers of Texas. As a family we would visit a particular spot on many Sunday afternoons. After church services and lunch when I was a small boy, we would leave the city to drive those miles for this beloved outing with my two brothers and sister to explore this growing fascination with the coursing river. Thousands upon thousands of round river rocks at the natural low-water crossing were available to provide extra enjoyment by splashing the water with a handful of water-worn, slick rocks skipping over its’ surface. This hooked me deeply as I was now helplessly in love with nature forever, as the trees in witness stood motionless above our heads.
As the years slid along, the rivers of Texas within about one hundred miles of home were frequently enjoyed and/or explored. Many of them flow from and through the Hill Country, rock bottomed and shallow but give the most recreation that nature may impart; swimming, fishing or leisurely dreaming under shade from giant water cypress trees. The Guadalupe, the Nueces, the Comal, the Blanco, the Frio, San Antonio and many others were always in our plan for the next adventure. And many smaller feeder streams and creeks gave up many perch and bass, catfish and crappe.
Our first deer lease was bordered by a beautiful creek in the Hill Country which happily provided all visitors with a sunken blue hole. We would sit on the ledge of the waterfall, eight feet above the pool, fishing in our shorts and getting a sunbath all at the same time, all thoroughly tanned by summer’s end. Many perch were plucked from the cool waters over several summers. We usually practiced catch and release on small, bony fish species. Such great fun! Such great fun to be there but the anticipation of another outing to our beautiful Blue Hole always filled us with glee.
These rivers, streams and creeks remain as vital treasured memories, for I’m happy to revisit them now and again as they bring family members and events vividly to mind. The day my brother and I floated down a section of the Guadalupe to repeatedly “run” the falls, perfecting our approach and strategy for a flawless pass between huge boulders without losing our intact chain of two inner tubes. Or the many events experienced at another deer lease on the Nueces River, sometimes we would have a contest of who could swim the width at the deep end while holding their breath underwater.
I’ve seen these rivers at every stage of water flow. If the water wasn’t too high or running too fast, we would hunt for hellgrammites by overturning river rocks just a few feet below the chute of an old derelict mill on the Guadalupe west of the town of Comfort. The fishing would always be better if our efforts were successful. The water was so clear and clean, very little pollution back in the fifties and sixties.
The Colorado River and other streams and springs in the Hill Country west of Austin became more opportunity for us while attending school at UT. Barton Springs pool was frequented all summer break, sometimes taking treks up the creek to Campbell’s Hole, taking in nature along with our survey.
My father introduced us kids to fast water and rapids at a very young age at Camp Warnecke in New Braunfels. Fast water and multiple holes in the rock of the river bottom were great fun for my brothers and me. We would dive ahead of the hole so that the quick drift was taken into account and time enough to swim down the three or four feet to grab the edge of a hole and hold on for as long as we could hold our breath. This was a day long game among us, barrels of fun and memories, all at the small cost of admission. Mom always packed a big picnic lunch, as we would stay all day on the river. This is one of my most joyful memories of all.