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HomeNL-2016-12 San Marcos 2

San Marcos River, Segment 3 - Fentress to Luling (Alt 90)
November 12, 2016
by Kent Walters

 
TRIP AT-A-GLANCE 
Put-in:
Fentress – State Park Road (Hwy 20) bridge – SE quadrant down a path by the road to what appears to be an old roadbed – River Trail Park 
Take-out:
Alt 90 (Luling) – Left turn way before the bridge – unmarked road about 200 yards after taxidermy sign on left - River Trail Park to left of concrete parking lot - GPS: 29.667722,-97.69978
Water-ID: San Marcos River
Miles Paddled: 13.6
Date: 11/12/2016 
Gage ID: USGS 08171400 San Marcos River Martindale, TX
Flow (CFS): 342
Temperature: 75 deg F - sunny with scattered clouds
Trip Coordinator: Kent Walters

 

NOTE: This trip report was written for entertainment as well as a record of the trip, so please keep in mind that the angle of danger is highly exaggerated throughout. SPOILER ALERT: Nobody died.
 
       
Click on thumbnail photos to enlarge.


It was a dark and stormy night, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. But that was on the other side of the world. In contrast, November 12th was another perfect day on the San Marcos River for the 9 people in their 7 kayaks and one canoe. After the shuttle, we prepped and put in, and were immediately treated to the fast water that was to be our companion through most of the trip. We were also introduced early on to the variety and frequency of obstructions in the water in this section of the river – lots of fallen trees and root balls coming from above and from below. The combination of swift water and these frequent and substantial strainers kept our attention pretty much throughout the whole ride.


We took a short break after about three miles. It seems that stuff was coming at us at such a constant rate that the only way we could assess and care for our physical needs was to pull over. So we did. We hydrated, nutrated, electrolyted and got ready to engage the river again. I think it was at this stop that Harmon showed us the trotline with trident hook and pyramid weight combination that almost impaled him. He was fortunate that it snagged his deck pack first (see photo below), and that he had a knife at the ready to cut the line, frustrating its gallant attempt to take him where he did not want to go. So it was here we learned that nature was not the only force that was trying to kill us.

       


With the aforementioned assist from the current, we ticked off the landmarks (bridges) in pretty short order, in spite of the many close brushes with death (well, more like several events that could have ended with one or more of us getting very wet).

 

 

By a little after noon we were in sight of the last landmark (Stairtown Bridge) before the takeout, which was about 6 more miles downstream. We decided to stop at a beautiful gravel bar under a shady tree. There were many comments about it being the best lunch spot any had ever seen. In short, there’s simply not, a more congenial spot . . . (for those familiar with “Camelot”). We exchanged half-truths and quarter lies while eating our Subway and Buckey’s sandwiches, HEB salads, MREs, beef jerky and peanut butter on crackers. A wasp found Christy’s yoga mat to be exceptionally attractive and had to be “encouraged” to let it go when we were preparing to get hulls wet. NOTE: Most of my pictures were taken here because it was a little too hectic to get the camera out on the river.

     
         
     
         
   
         
   


We got underway with no hint of the adventures that were to amaze us over the next 6 miles. It began much like the first part of the trip, until a kayak flipped over. Yes, it was the usual first person to swim with the turtles (me), but we were able to dump out the water and get back on the river in no time (actually about 5 minutes, if I remember correctly). I think that is a club record of sorts, with Harmon getting exactly the right angle to get all but a pint of the water out with one deft move. The only loss in this incident was my new tube of Boudreaux’s Butt Paste (my version of sun screen), which escaped in the few moments that the boat was upside down. I have come to the conclusion that the San Marcos River is a butt paste magnet/graveyard, because on the San Marcos to Staples run a few weeks ago, it claimed my first tube. That’s a 100% casualty rate. I’m leaving my next tube in the truck from now on!

This counted as our very brief after-lunch stretch, and then it was back into our game of pinball on the river.

 
   


I’m a little fuzzy about whether the next major event was the “maze of death” or the swift water rescue. We’ll go with the maze of death, which consisted of several trees and parts of trees that had combined forces (like in the Subaru commercial) to span the entire river in a continuous and wicked strainer. This is the part where Harmon got frustrated at everyone for not having a painter attached, making it that much more difficult to manage the boats over the logs. I guess we could count this as a break, but no one felt well-rested after the exercise of innovating our way through the stuff that nature had so inconsiderately collected in that spot.

 
         
   
   


   


And then there was the swift water rescue, which started as a simple flip from hitting a submerged stump. The current was too strong and the time too short to get to the shore, and the kayak and I (yes, it was me again) found ourselves upside down alongside an island of logs and branches in the middle of the river, aligned with the current, but jammed into some other branches just downstream. I managed to right the boat and keep all of the loose parts under my control (except the butt paste from the earlier incident). I passed my paddle to David, who had paddled up from downstream to assist. Terry was parked against the same log jam, sideways to the current and just upstream and offset from me to where our sterns were together, forming a right angle. I got out of the water on the log I was next to, which was well-anchored and solid. The next part is a little unclear to me, but here is how I remember it: Harmon threw a throw bag out to us from the shore. Terry caught it and passed it to me, and I looped it around my stern grab handle. This is the part that is unclear – I think Harmon pulled the sterns of both boats together, one with Terry still in it, and got them both over to shore. That left just me in the middle of the river. Harmon threw the rope again, and I grabbed it out of the water. I moved along my log and positioned myself in the branches/root ball where Terry had been pinned on the upstream side of the river, which got me close to the open water between me and Harmon, who was further upstream on the shore. I passed the rope around my body, asked if Harmon was ready, and jumped into the river with my back to the rescuer. It was a textbook rescue, with Harmon pulling upstream while I swung across to the shore. I’m sure some pictures will be posted showing some of the details of this rescue, but at the time of this writing, none were available.

 


Side bar: as the leader, it was my responsibility to set up these scenarios to demonstrate these skills in the interest of improving the capabilities of everyone in the group.

Oh, and we learned that Harmon is a very useful guy to have along on these trips.

The paddle ended just after what appeared to be a compromised railroad bridge (see photo below that will be sent to the railroad commissioner).



Don’t miss the picture of Joe with the dragonfly banking in to take a closer look (too small to see in this newsletter version).


In this last photo, Amy represents the general feeling at the end of this trip (happy – relaxed – satisfied, for those who are emotionally challenged):

 


P.S. The secret to getting a photo like this at the end of a trip is to take it at the beginning of a trip.


On the other side of the world, the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets, rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness, and all mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe.

. . . And that is how we cheated death yet again.

Kent Walters

 


STATISTICS:

PARTICIPANTS:
Amy McGee – 15.5’ Wilderness Systems Zephyr kayak
David Portz – 9.5’ Perception (looks like a Prodigy) kayak
Christie Long – 17’ Alumacraft canoe
John Ohrt – same 17’ Alumacraft canoe
Joe Coker – 10’ Liquid Logic Remix XP-10 kayak
Michael Pollard – 13’ Perception Search SOT kayak
Harmon Everett – 10’ Old Town Dirigo kayak
Terry Herdlicka – 10’ Old Town Dirigo kayak
Kent Walters – 17’ Eddyline Calypso kayak

MOST APPROPRIATE CRAFT FOR THE CONDITIONS:
Short kayaks with lots of rocker for quick turning and positioning
• Joe is the winner with the perfect combination
• David is second runner up with his short, optimally-priced kayak

GAGE / FLOW:
Martindale: Luling:
Gage (Feet): 8.1 5.5
Flow (CFS): 342 370

TEMPERATURE:
68 at 8:00 AM when we met to about 70 when we got underway to a high of 75

PRECIPITATION:
None, except for Kent when he went under water

MILES: 13.57 (Terry’s GPS recorded about 14.2 miles, but we’ll go with the official TWS measurement)

 


Route map


WILDLIFE:
• Turtles (lots of them)
• Red-tailed hawk
• Mini kingfishers
• Great Blue Heron
• Wild hog
• “Traces” of beaver (chewed sticks and roots)
• A bleached ribcage of some unfortunate small kayaker from an earlier trip



The author, Kent Walters