I was having a great labor day weekend, partaking in all of the sports which I love.  Saturday was a shooting match with a WWII rifle, Sunday was skydiving, all I needed to complete the perfect trifecta weekend was to go canoeing on Labor Day Monday.

But where to go?  Someplace local.  Someplace that doesn't require any special planning...  Aha!  I've got it.  A few years ago I tested out a new canoe on Oyster Creek in Sugarland.  There's a lake alongside Oyster Creek called Pumpkin Lake, and I've always wanted to get there, mostly just because I like the name.  So on Monday morning I threw  the canoe on top of the truck, and a few things in the back, and off I went.  I didn't bother to consult any maps or aerial photos first.  I had a hazy memory that Pumpkin Lake was on the north side of Oyster Creek, and that there was a channel connecting the Creek to the Lake.  That's all I needed to know, right?  I can find it!  So off I went.

Float Plan

This map shows the plan that I formulated in my head.  I would put-in at Highway 6, at the canoe launch site that Bob Arthur helped to build with the local Park Department.  I would paddle upstream to the channel leading to Pumpkin Lake, enter and explore Pumpkin Lake, then float leisurely back downstream to the starting point for take-out. 

(Click on the thumbnail photos to see a larger version.)

Aerial Photo

And here's the aerial photo that I captured off the internet after the trip.  Notice any differences?  Yes, the street map doesn't show the drainage canal running north to south into Oyster Creek - it appears only on the aerial photo.  And therein laid the seeds of confusion in my hazy memory...  You can see how the shape of the path is almost identical for both possibilities, so it was easy to confuse one for the other.

A quick note about the put-in: when it's wet from rain, there are several deep mud holes alongside Highway 6 here at the put-in.  If you have two-wheel drive and get one drive wheel in one of those mud holes, you're going to be stuck.  I had 4WD so it wasn't a problem.  But if that is you, then stay back away from the creek a bit on higher ground and you'll be fine.  It's not that far a walk to get your boat to the creek.

So off I go paddling hard against the current, which was running somewhat fast, due to the rain being dumped on Houston from Tropical Storm Hermaine. 

The first obstacle you come to is a wooden bridge crossing the creek on the north end of  the airport runway.  It's low enough to paddle underneath, but you have to duck down inside your boat to do it.  Otherwise, it would still be very easy to pull your boat up on the bank and go around it.  And there were two more bridges like that on this paddle trip.

After a while, I came to the drainage channel which in my hazy memory, I was sure would lead me into Pumpkin Lake.  I make the turn, and the water is not running fast at all here, providing welcome relief.  I paddle and paddle and paddle, and...  where the heck is Pumpkin Lake?  The channel never did open up into the big lake that I was expecting.  And the next thing you know, I'm paddling through the back yards of a neighborhood.   So I have figured out by now that I've obviously missed my Pumpkin Lake objective somehow, and decided to just enjoy wherever the heck I happened to be.  I turned around after a while, and with the rain pouring down on me, I pulled up by a large tree, disembarked, and ate my lunch under the shelter of the tree: a ham and sweet pickle sandwich, holding it close under the wide brim of my HCC hat to keep the bread from getting wet. 

Put-In	Typical Creek Scenery	One of three wood bridges

John & Boat

It was raining very hard, but there was no lightening, and I enjoyed the spectacle of rain drops pattering on the water from the relative dryness under the canopy of the tree.  The boat filled up with several inches of rain water, and  as I prepared to shove off again, I realized that in my hasty departure, I had forgotten my bailing jug and sponge.  So how do I get all that water out of my boat?  With some quick thinking, I utilized my tupperware sandwich container as a bailing bucket, and my paddling gloves as a sponge, and soon the boat was empty of rainwater.

Off I go again, coasting downstream now - easy going, enjoying the sights.  The water was so muddy that you could float right up on the gar and they wouldn't even realize you were there until the last possible second, where, with a flick of the tail, they disappeared under the surface.  I stopped to retrieve a backpack hanging on a tree limb over the water.  It contained a stale old granola bar, and a pair of ear plugs.  One strap was broken, rendering it worthless, so I threw it in the boat just to remove the trash from the creek.

Hydrilla	"Trumpet" Flowers	Swallow Nests

This section of Oyster Creek goes around the north end of the Sugarland Airport runway, and down the west side.  So there was often the sound of aircraft engines revving for take-off, and planes circling overhead to enter the pattern to land.  You could also hear the sound of trains off in the distance at the railroad tracks which parallel Highway 59.

Egret

As for birds, there were a handful of egrets and herons, and even a trio of ducks, which as ducks will do, flapped off ahead of me when I got too close, only to have me re-encounter them again a few minutes later, where the process is repeated. 

Bird Scare-Away Cannon

There was a pair of strange devices placed at the north end of the runway.  At first they looked like high-powered optical spotting scopes, which I thought might have some role in watching  inbound aircraft.  But as I got closer, I realized that these "scopes" were mounted atop a propane tank, which made no sense.  Upon closer examination, I decided that they were propane cannons, remotely triggered from the control tower, to scare away birds which could interfere with landing aircraft.  And then I wondered how powerful they were, and what effect they might have on me if they were activated as I paddled by.  No time to linger!

	Giant three-legged Bird

And then there were other kinds of birds too, with large silvery wings, three-legged, and moving very fast.  They had names like Piper, Beech and Cessna.  They would roar overhead my puny little canoe, like a diving eagle, ready to reach down and snatch me out of the water like a trout for lunch.

After arriving home, cleaning my gear, and hanging it in the garage to dry,  I consulted the internet for images of Pumpkin Lake, and discovered my error.  It turns out, there is NO connection between the two bodies of water - you can't get there from Oyster Creek!  So much for hasty planning.  But I still had a great trifecta weekend!

Shooting	Skydiving	Canoeing
	Trifecta!

The author, John Rich