Rio Grande River - Colorado Canyon
Feb. 2010
by John Rich

	Location within Texas

In late February, six Houston Canoe Club members set out for Big Bend Ranch State Park in west Texas to paddle the Rio Grande River through Colorado Canyon. The participants were: Ken Anderson, Louis Aulbach, Dana Enos, Linda Gorski, Robert Killian and John Rich.

Louis, Dana, Linda and John car-pooled and convoyed together in two vehicles carrying four boats. Robert and Ken drove separately and arrived later to join up. The car-pool group had the pleasure of breaking up the long 12-hour drive over two days, by stopping overnight at the non-profit Shumla School west of Del Rio. Those members do some volunteer work for the school, and in exchange get an occasional use of the facility. There we spent the evening chatting in front of the fireplace, and warming our toes - temperatures at night were dipping into the 30's. I rolled out my sleeping bag right in front of the fireplace, with the idea of waking up in the middle of the night to throw a few more logs on the fire, but ended up sleeping straight through.

Shumla School fireplace sign		Toasty toes

Terrain Map

The next day we finished off the drive to Big Bend Ranch State Park and claimed our campground at a place called Grassy Banks, alongside the Rio Grande River. Although, after the flood last year, the grass has almost been scoured clean, and it could now be called Sand & Rock Banks. Big Bend Ranch State Park is adjacent to Big Bend National Park, on the west side. As you can see from the maps, below, the terrain is very rugged and remote. Highway FM-170 running alongside the river here is considered to be the most scenic drive in Texas. It also provides access to the river at several points for water sports.

 

Grassy Banks

The campsite had a shelter roof, picnic table, and pit toilet. As we settled in, Linda quickly pitched her tent off to the side and declared it a no-snoring tent zone. The Rio Grande was gurgling just a few yards away, and we were entertained with ducks playing in the water. This would be our home for several days.

Ken's tent reminded me of a jellyfish with dangling tentacles. The tentacles here are actually mesh pockets into which rocks are fitted, to anchor the tent in the wind. The sand was too deep and soft here for tent stakes to do much good against a strong wind, but it did provide a soft sleeping surface. 

Trucks & boats at the campsite		Tents spread out along the riverbank		Ken's jellyfish tent

USGS water gauge showing spike in flow

When we checked into the park and with a local river outfitter, we discovered a surprise. The water flow was way up from it's normal average of about 250 cubic-feet-per-second (cfs), to a whopping 2,500 cfs - a ten-fold increase. Wow! The explanation was that the Mexican water authorities decided to release some water from a dam on the Rio Conchos River, which flows into the Rio Grande River just upstream at the town of Presidio. Apparently no one really knew this was coming in advance, and they only became aware of it when the daily USGS water gauge readings, available on the internet, suddenly spiked. Some work needs to be done there to get the Mexican authorities to provide more advance notice to people downstream of their pending actions.

So now the question was; do we want to run the river at this high level? The outfitters were doing it in rafts, and reports from guides coming off the river varied as to the severity of the rapids, ranging from class II to class III, but all indicated that you could "line" around the two really bad rapids if you wanted.

For two days we decided to go out on hikes instead of paddling, hoping that the water level would drop. We had two fabulous day-hikes in Big Bend Ranch State Park, on trails featuring an old wax camp, a crystal-covered hill, and an old cinnabar mining area.

East Contrabando Trail

	Candelilla

This (right) is the desert plant called candelilla, or "little candle" in Spanish. I actually tried to light one slim stalk of these with a match once to see if it would burn like a candle, with no success. However, the plant is harvested in large quantities to be boiled in vats, with a dash of acid, to extract large amounts of wax from it. This wax is then sold to companies who use it in cosmetics, and products like lip balm. So a wax camp is a location where this collection and raw processing is set up. Once the area has been harvested, the workers pack up and move on to another location.

A wax camp rock hut

This camp included several stone-lined pits where the vats of water and candelilla were boiled, as well as several rock huts occupied by the workers. The area was still littered with debris, including soles of shoes, pots and pans, broken glass, etc. The pots and pans looked like they had been abandoned just yesterday, instead of 70 or more years ago.

The "Crystal Trail" turned out to be my favorite, because I'm a sucker for a pretty rock. At first we were quite disappointed, as only a few calcite crystals were being spotted along the way. But then, miles up the trail, we rounded a bend, and "Wow!" There was an entire hillside covered in opaque white rock crystals, facets sparkling in the sun like giant diamonds! This scene made the 8-mile hike that day all worthwhile to me.

Crystal hill		Close-up of crystals

I think the crystals were either calcite or gypsum, but I'm not sure. Whatever they were, it was quite a scene. It looked like a carpet of snow, on an otherwise brown desert landscape.

West Contrabando Trail

The next day's hike featured a mining area, which included several "prospects" where test holes were dug looking for valuable minerals, to fulfill men's dreams of wealth. But they almost all came up dry holes in this area. There were the ruins of several old rock homes, where the miners lived while pursuing their back-breaking work and dreams.

There was one mine shaft where cinnabar was found. Cinnabar comes in the form of red crystals, usually embedded in quartz, and when processed in a furnace, mercury is extracted from it, which was quite valuable prior to WWII. This was one of several places where cinnabar was found in the Big Bend area. This mine shaft has been sealed with a grate to keep out fools like me who would love to crawl in and explore.

Miner's hut		Mine shaft

Back in camp after two days of hiking, the water in the Rio Grande was still roaring along just as before, showing no signs of subsiding. So, are we going to paddle or not? Did we bring our canoes all this way, not to use them? Ken, Louis, Dana and John decided to "go for it", while Linda made a precautionary decision to stay aground. Robert had been delayed in his arrival, because his rear axle burned out on the road in Sonora, and he had to get a replacement from Del Rio to fix it, so he missed this paddle.

Colorado Canyon

Normally, we would paddle this 18-mile section of the Rio Grande in two days, with an overnight camp on the riverbank. But because the water was flowing so fast, we decided to run the stretch in just one day, traveling light and fast without the burden of heavy camping gear in the boats.

Scenic put-in		The paddlers: Dana, John, Ken & Louis. Photo by Linda Gorski

The high, fast water level had several effects. One was that boulders which normally protrude from the water were now submerged, so you didn't have to worry about crashing into them. However, there were often huge waves pushing up off these submerged boulders, so you still had to maneuver to avoid the location, or risk being swamped. Even riffles became magnified and provided more excitement than usual.

Setting out Photo by Linda Gorski		Ken runs muddy mega-riffles		Sun-sparkled water scenery

When the river widened you were greeted with relatively calm water, but it was still pushing you along at a good clip. And then you got to relax and enjoy the fantastic scenery.

A few miles into the trip, we pulled over for a rest break at a side canyon on the Mexican side of the river. We hiked through the cut in the mountain, and upon coming out the other side, we found a large stone corral, and a rock hut, used by some cowboys in days of old. Alongside were mortar holes in stone, from when ancient Indians  also occupied the area, grinding beans into meal.

Canyon scenery		Indian mortar holes

Back on the river, there were two rapids which were downright scary-looking. Ken and I decided to run the first one, while the others chose to line around it. I went first, got swept into a path which I didn't want, and was briefly in trouble in a hydraulic-like eddy. But I stayed upright and powered out of it. Ken maintained the correct entry path and shot through, making it look easy. The 2nd rapid had a long series of huge standing waves, and the current looked like it would push you into them against your will. We scouted this rapid from the riverbank, and everyone chose to line
down the other side, rather than tackle it afloat.

Closed Canyon Rapids		Panther Canyon Rapids		Scenery

One paddler overturned his boat at Quarter Mile Rapid where the river made a sharp bend and the current was flowing right into a cliff wall. The paddler ended up floating downstream in the fast current for about 20 minutes before he could be extricated to shore. Every time we attempted to tow him laterally to an upcoming sand bar, the current would sweep us right past it before we could get there. Yikes! Meanwhile, the floating paddler was hanging onto his boat and keeping it in front of him as he should, while maintaining the proper feet-first orientation. Eventually the water gave us a break and we got him to shore. He pulled out his dry bag and donned a fresh set of dry clothes, while others bailed out his boat. Then it was back on the water again.

Eighteen miles later we ended our trip at the Grassy Banks take-out site, which was also our camp site. All we had to do was pull our boats up out of the water, and we were home! Linda awaited there to greet us. The entire 18-miles was covered in about five hours, including time for a side hike and a lunch break. That was moving fast!

Just as the water conditions hit us with a surprise on this trip, the weather was now to do the same. A ranger was making the rounds of all the camp sites to warn campers of an oncoming cold front. It was predicted to drop temperatures into the 20's, and many campers weren't prepared for that kind of freezing cold. Campers were apparently abandoning their tents and sleeping bags and heading into the nearby small towns to grab motel rooms to ride out the cold wave. We all decided that we had the proper equipment and clothing to handle it, so we stayed put.

Not only did the temperature dip into the 20's, but we also had SNOW - a bit of a rarity in that area. It didn't stick to the ground where we were alongside the river, but it did stick to the mountains a couple of thousand feet higher in elevation. I normally sleep in my underwear inside my sleeping bag, but this night I put on several layers of warm clothes inside the sleeping bag, and also pulled my head down inside and cinched the opening shut with my drawstring - snug as a bug. I stayed toasty, despite the frosty temps outside. However, getting out of the bag in the morning was a most unpleasant experience. Brrr!

Linda Gorski staying warm		Ice on tent		Snow on mountains

Our original plan had been to continue paddling the next day, starting where we were at Grassy Banks, and moving 8 miles downstream to the town of Lajitas. But with the air temperature so frigid, an overturned boat could turn into a life-threatening situation with hypothermia. And with the water flowing so rapidly, we weren't confident we could keep all boats upright. So we decided to delay that second paddle until the weather warmed up in a few days. Oddly enough, the local outfitters continued putting rafts full of high school kids on the river, as previously scheduled. Meanwhile, us old folks occupied our time once again with hiking.

Rancherias Trail

Our next choice for a hike was the Rancherias Trail, on the west side of Big Bend Ranch State Park. It generally follows a spring-fed creek bed up towards the mountains, and provided beautiful scenery. At right, you see Ken posing with the biggest cairn I've ever seen. This was very early on the trail, and the more miles you hiked away from the trailhead, the smaller the cairns became. When we finally turned around to come back, the cairns were down to just clusters of two or three small rocks.

In the second photo you see John, red-faced from the cold, dressed for cold weather hiking with heavy coat, sweat pants, gloves and two wool caps. Snow-capped mountains are in the background.

One of the neat features along this trail was a hillside pock-marked with small caves like a giant Swiss cheese. Several of the larger caves showed signs of occupation, like this one, with fire-blackened ceilings, stone walls in front, and mortar holes nearby. They might have also been occupied by early cowboys tending their herds, as  one had the name "Gibson" inscribed inside. 

Ken with giant cairn		John hiking		Robert & Louis with Indian cave

On the River Again 

Finally the cold spell broke, with temperatures predicted to rise to 60. We took our time in the morning, lounging around, watching the thermometer. When it got to 50, we pushed our boats in the water and started our trip to Lajitas. Robert had his truck fixed by now and had arrived, ready to get his boat wet and join us. Another solo paddler, a stranger, showed up at the put-in with a kevlar boat - his name was Ron, and he seemed to know what he was doing. Ron paddled along with us, for safety in numbers.

A local private school sends all their 8th-graders out on a wilderness field trip in Big Bend at this time of year. They took turns in groups doing hiking, primitive camping, and river rafting. I wish I had gone to a school like that! Here (right) you see the kids in guided outfitter rafts. Some of the rafts full of girls were singing songs non-stop, which drove me a little batty - I like quiet in the outdoors. And of course, the rafts full of boys were horse-playing and joking around. Some of the guides actually managed to get their batch of kids working together, and doing fun things like paddling in synchronization, or spinning in circles. I'm sure they all had great stories to tell later back home, along with good memories to last a lifetime. And just maybe, some of them will grow up bitten by a call for the outdoors.

Last photo, below: A scenic view of some Big Bend mountains from inside Ken's car, with two boats on top, headed back to the campsite. Ken and John had to do some creative rope-tying to get both canoes secured on top, with one boat tilted up on-edge atop the other. It looked like a big spider web up there, but it worked.

Ron and Ken in the lead		Kids in rafts		Windshield view

More Hiking 

At this point our planned water adventure was complete, but we still had several more days of hiking to do before returning to civilization. Our home base for this phase was a primitive campsite  on the west side of Big Bend National Park, called Terlingua Abajo, which means "Terlingua South". The larger town of Terlingua is to the north, so-named because when it was founded there were three languages spoken there: English, Spanish, and Indian. In the photo (left), you see the warming sunrise creeping down the sheer cliff face of Mesa de Anguila, with St. Elena Canyon as the large cleft. There is not even a pit toilet here - pick your bush. But there is a nice spring-fed creek which was wonderful for evening outdoor baths.

Every evening a little kangaroo rat would appear and scurry about amongst our feet and under the camp tables, looking for crumbs to eat. He was careful to stay in the shadows out of direct moonlight, and the slightest movement would send him scurrying off. I finally managed to snap this photo, just pointing my camera into the dark, and getting him at the right moment. Speaking of critters, from this campsite we also had the pleasure of hearing coyotes howl every night, somewhere nearby.

Camp sunrise		Camp guest

The hikers here are posing with the remains of an old car in the campground. We had six hikers ready to do some exploration, looking for specific features which had been researched in advance by Louis Aulbach and Dana Enos, who had studied books and maps to provide clues for these little known sites.

The hikers: Linda, Robert, Ken, Dana, Louis & John

Crossing Terlingua Creek  on stepping stones

The first day was spent hiking north along the west side of the Rattlesnake Mountains, looking for an old brick kiln that was reportedly built in the area near natural clay deposits in the hillsides. We discovered many neat things, including a large antler, hillsides covered with fossil clams, a horse skeleton, crystal rocks and more. But we could find no signs of any brick kiln.

	Linda Gorski amidst bricks

On day two, we used a map which Louis cleverly put together, overlaying an old 1930's map on top of a current topographical map. After beating the bushes with no success, we climbed a hill and surveyed the area for any signs of the brick kiln. Even with binoculars we spotted no clues. But from our high perch, we studied the terrain features closely, including the modern zig-zag fence line, picked a point in the distance where it "should" be, and upon hiking to that spot, that's exactly where it was! The kiln was no longer standing, but there were several piles of bricks, and plenty of debris showing human occupation. The debris is just junk, but can be most interesting to explore. We found various fragments showing porcelain from Germany and Belgium, old west firearm cartridges, "Circle A" ginger ale bottles, Vicks Vapo-Rub jars, and so forth. While in the area, we also visited the old Molinar ranch site, and the Valenzuela ranch site.

Farming village home

On our last day of hiking we headed south to try and find an old Mexican cemetery, which Louis and Dana found a reference to in one journal article about the area. No other publication about Big Bend cemeteries makes any mention of this site, so we eagerly accepted the challenge of trying to find it. Terlingua Abajo was a large farming community from about 1880 into the 1940's, raising crops and livestock on the fertile flood plain to support the mining population of the area. They even laid stone canals to divert creek water to their fields. The photo (left) shows the ruins of the largest home in the area. I've counted 28 home ruins altogether here, most of which are now just rectangular outlines of rocks where the walls have tumbled over.

There are two other cemeteries in the area, on small hilltops right next to each other, which we had seen before. One has 10 graves and the other 13. Graves in this countryside are marked by piles of rocks, which keep the wild animals from digging into the shallow burials. Wood crosses are usually erected, but as of this date, they are usually rotted away and fallen over, the names carved into them no longer legible. One of the cemeteries is interesting because the arrangement of graves on the hillside is in the shape of a giant cross. After reviewing those sites for the two new hikers to the area, we branched off looking for the new mystery cemetery.

	Found it!

Since the tradition in the area is to put cemeteries on hilltops, that's where we were logically looking, huffing and puffing our way to the hilltops, but to no avail. So we then just followed the written description literally, and in short order, we stumbled upon it! It was to our surprise that we found it on flat open land, hidden amidst the brush - it was virtually invisible until you walked right up on it, since the brush is much higher than the piles of stones. This cemetery had about 36 graves by my count, making it a fairly large one for the area. I say "about 36", because it's hard to be sure. Some piles of stones seem to be much larger than is needed for one person, and may contain two, so you're not really sure how to count them.

And with that, our time in Big Bend was up. We managed to complete our desired paddling despite the high water, and we achieved both of the new discoveries we were seeking on our land hiking. It was a fun and adventurous 10 days with a fantastic bunch of people, amidst spectacular scenery. A few days of cold weather can't spoil all that. We'll be back again.

Ken Anderson hadn't had enough yet, and he stayed an additional week to do volunteer work with the Sierra Club, helping the Park Service dig some runoff diversion ditches to save the rare Big Bend Mosquitofish, whose range consists of only a single spring-fed pond in the Rio Grande Village campground, and whose population at one time was down to just three fish; two males and one female.

The author, John RIch