Pecos River
May 13-19, 2015
by John Rich
Fellow HCC member Charles Zipprian has purchased a large plot of acreage along the Pecos River in west Texas, and invited me to tag along with him for a week to check out the land. His location is about a six-hour drive from Houston, and 10 miles west of the Highway 90 bridge over the Pecos. Although you can't reach the river directly from his land because of the high limestone cliffs, as part of the land deal he gets usage of the access road down the cliff at the weir dam site. And that's only about a mile away, so it's a short hop by truck to get to the river.
The usual mode of paddling the Pecos involves a 7-day expedition trip from Pandale down to Highway 90. But with access to the river like Charles has, you can base camp on his property, venture out on day trips up and down river with a very light gear load, and return to the comfort of your base camp every day. The only "catch" is that you have to line your boat upstream over some rapids.
And you're not limited to just the weir dam access point. You can use the boat ramp at Highway 90 to explore the area of the junction of the Pecos with the Rio Grande. And that area contains several Indian pictograph caves and two historic railroad tunnels carved through solid rock. Opportunities for exploration are numerous.
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| I've arrived! |
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The Hwy 90
Pecos Bridge
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View downstream
to the Rio Grande
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View upstream |
Upon arrival on Charles' property, I found a relatively flat spot amidst the shrubs and cactus and set up my tent - home for a week. Normally on a canoe trip I sleep on an air mattress on the rocky ground, and it's rarely comfortable. But since this was a base camp that required no canoe transport of gear, I brought along my heavy, bulky cot and put it inside the tent. That got me off the hard, irregular, rocky ground, and I slept in great comfort. Charles has a camper on the property, so there's nothing for him to set up - he just crawls directly into bed. The campfire in the photo below was created using a rusted-out charcoal grill, turned over on it's back, with the lid as the fire pan. The next morning I went hiking and explored the property and a side canyon, and enjoyed the magnificent views of the Pecos River from atop the bluff.
Nearby Charles' camp location are signs of an old hunting camp used by previous land owners. Those signs include what could have been an old stone corral, with several rusty horseshoes scattered about, an old iron tent frame that is reminiscent of a Conestoga wagon, and the obligatory pile of trash with old cans and bottles. The Nu Icy soda bottle dates from 1927 to 1933, so that's an indication of how long modern man has occupied this piece of land. Charles is building his large dream cabin on the site, with grand plans for water catchment and water tank, septic system, generator, etc. It should be quite comfortable when completed.
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| Stone corral |
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Tent frame |
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Nu Icy soda |
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The cabin |
Now that you've been introduced to the lay of the land, let's get down to the river. This is a canoe club, you know. The first two photos below are of the road descending from the top of the cliff to the water level at the weir dam. It's steep and treacherous. Even with four-wheel drive, you better think twice about negotiating this road. We elected to park at the top and carried our boats and gear down to the water. That wasn't too bad. We left our boats there all week, as the location is so remote that there is no one out there to steal them. But coming back uphill at the end of the week was a chore. With two men per boat, we stopped to rest four or five times going up the hill to the vehicles.
The scenery at the weir dam is magnificent, with clear water and the deep canyon. A brass disc is nestled in the concrete signifying the International Boundary Water Commission, a joint American-Mexican treaty which controls how the border water is shared, not just from the Rio Grande, but also rivers like the Pecos which feed the Rio Grande. The river right portion of the dam has water flowing over it and probably has a very dangerous undertow - stay away from that. We paddled across to the river left side, and lifted the boats up over the dry concrete there, to head upstream. There is also a water gauge there which you can check online from the comfort of your home (water.weather.gov).
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| Weir dam road |
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Weir dam road |
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Weir dam |
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IBWC marker |
Charles had two of his sons spend part of the week with us, so we would go out on the river as four paddlers in two boats, traveling in tandem. That made paddling upstream and lining rapids easier, by having a partner to share the burden. I had Matthew as a bow partner, and he was an excellent, strong paddler. On one day there were only three of us, all big men, and we all piled into my 15'8" Old Town Discovery. That didn't work out so well - it was low in the water and unstable, and made me uneasy. But we managed not to turn it over.
On a normal expedition trip on the Pecos you don't have a lot of time to stop and explore things. You have a certain amount of mileage you have to make every day, in order to meet your tow-out boat at the end of the week on a pre-arranged date. So one of the luxuries of these day trips was that we could stop and explore all we wanted - there were no time limits and no mileage goals. We checked out almost every cave and side canyon nearby, both up and down stream. We made no great new discoveries, but had fun exploring and rock climbing. The only thing found in most caves was goat crap, and in one cave, an actual goat. I don't know who was more surprised; Matthew upon encountering the goat, or the goat finding someone invading his home.
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| A cave to explore |
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Scenery upstream |
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John in a cave nook |
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Matthew fishes |
From the weir dam, it only takes an hour and a half of dedicated paddling to get to Painted Canyon. There is only one Class II rapid which you must line upstream. Everything else is gentle pools and slow current. So in just 1.5 hours you can be at world class ancient Indian rock art sites! There are four, count 'em, four shelters (rock overhangs) which contain pictographs that are up to thousands of years old. Two of the shelters overlook the Pecos and are just a short hike along the rock ledge. The paintings are faint, and it might take a practiced eye to make out what you're seeing. A moderately strenuous hike up the side canyon gets you to two more shelters, where the pictographs are strong and clear. Or you can just lounge on the side of the river, enjoy the sound of the water through the rapids, fish, talk and nap. Charles came prepared to cook up a batch of shrimp for lunch one day, which was a special treat,and quite tasty.
The food was good all week too. No matter how tired Charles was at the end of the day from paddling, rock-climbing and building the cabin, he also cooked great dinners every evening. Desserts too. I don't know where he kept all this stuff cold, but the last night before departure he pulled out a large key lime pie, and forced just the four of us to eat the whole thing. Oh the <burp> horror!
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| View from the stern |
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Lining up a rapid |
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Matthew fishes |
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Matthew catches |
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Parking at
Painted Canyon
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Charles cooks
shrimp
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Matthew looks at
pictographs
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Pair of human
figures
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What more could you do from Charles' base camp? We're scheming a way to get upstream to Lewis Canyon, where there is an entire mesa chiseled with hundreds of ancient petroglyph images. As well as three more shelter pictograph sites. But that is 8.5 miles upstream, and involves lining up through a number of rapids, some of which would be rather difficult. It might take an overnight trip to do that: spending one strenuous day just to get there, camp out overnight, visit the rock art the next morning and then make the easy paddle back downstream to return to base camp in the afternoon. It's do-able, if you dare.
The nights had been overcast all week, so star-watching wasn't an option. But there were large thunderstorms off in the distance with lightening flashing inside the clouds, making them look like illuminated blinking cotton balls. And then finally on the last night we had crystal clear dark skies. We sat and looked for satellites whizzing overhead, which I pointed out with a green laser pen. And then "it" happened. Literally, a flaming meteorite came out of the sky, burning so brightly that it lit up everything around like it was daytime for about a full second. It seemed to be right smack in front of my face, but more likely about a quarter-mile away. The meteorite was burning with hues of red, blue and green, and it was close enough that I could even hear a hissing sound as it whizzed through the air and fizzled out just a few hundred feet above the ground, and then disappeared. Wow! Somewhere out there is a chunk of rock from outer space. And maybe "The Blob" is emerging from it right now...
Good friends, beautiful scenery, hiking, great paddling, exploring adventure, ancient rock art, and an astronomical light show - what more could you ask for?
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| The author, John Rich |
"Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl:
it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling."
– Henry David Thoreau