Origins of Texas by Kayak
It may be traitorous to bash my own hometown, but I have never been a fan of Houston. Don't get me wrong, for the average person, life is great. An abundance of fast food restaurants guarantees that you can get a diabetes-size soft drink and a fried biscuit-thing on your way to a sedentary job at a petroleum company. There, you will be safe from the suffocating heat and humidity, while the money you save due to the reasonable cost of living ensures that you will be able to afford your triple bypass surgery at the largest medical center in the country. (Okay, bashing over).
Honestly though, there are plenty of active and outdoorsy Houstonians, but our opportunities are limited. And while I would love to at least run on the city's mediocre jogging trails or
learn Jiu-Jitsu at a local MMA gym, a series of serious knee
injuries have sliced my options even thinner. Luckily, just as I was losing hope of finding adventure in the Bayou City, a friend told me about the 26-mile paddling trail along the city's namesake (nick-namesake?).
After doing some research, I was intrigued to learn that the Buffalo Bayou Paddling Trail is just one of 60 such trails scattered all over the state, which has inspired me to explore as many of them as possible and document them in a blog. I've been wanting to start some kind of writing project for some time, so although I can't give expert advice on kayaking, fishing, or flora and fauna identification, I hope the stories of my awful decisions will provide entertainment and education for fellow adventurers.
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| "Due to the length of the trail, it is too long to paddle in one day" |
As soon as I read the above warning, I knew I wanted to paddle the trail in one day. My previous kayaking experience includes dropping baits 500 yards offshore while fishing from the beach. This can be extremely difficult when dragging multiple football-fields worth of line against heavy current and over 6 foot-plus waves. So kayaking downstream must be really easy, right?
Bayou Begins
A white crane steps into the creek
Suburban cyclists
An aroma of marijuana
- Bayou Haiku
While bayou paddling is certainly easier than battling ocean waves on a rough day, there are plenty of challenges if you plan on floating the whole trail, as we soon found out. My friend Jadd and I unloaded our kayaks shortly after sunrise at Access Point 1 on Highway 6, where many cyclists were unloading their bikes and zipping past the dam that marks the beginning of the trail. They seemed to be a serene bunch, especially judging from the scent of cannabis in the air, and our spirits were also high as we unloaded our yaks and dragged them down the grassy bank.
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| The dam |
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| 26 miles to go |
Once in the water, we immediately passed under the Highway 6 bridge where we could see the welcoming green and wooded canopy shading the bayou on the other side. But just seconds into our expedition, we hit an obstacle. Literally. The concrete on the exit side of the bridge declined sharply and created a choke point over which water rushed violently. I didn't see the rock in the middle until my kayak was wedged into it, barred from going forwards or backwards by the strong current and solid stone. Jadd was already ahead, but couldn't safely come back to help me, and the water was way too fast for me to step out of my kayak, despite the shallow depth. I knew I had to push off to the side, and I also knew I would likely flip sideways in the process.
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| Seconds before impact |
KAYAKING TIP #1: Always be prepared for a tumble by securing everything down or attaching floats to your gear.
You should always be prepared to flip over while kayaking, but I wasn't. Although my phone is waterproof, neither it nor the rest of my gear were secured. After paddling in futility for a few minutes, I braced myself, scooted to the front of the yak, and kicked off the rock with my foot, propelling my kayak backwards and to the left. The vessel tilted heavily but held steady as I plunged one end of the paddle into the water, and seconds later, I was in the clear. Maybe there is a bit of outdoor excitement to be experienced in Houston after all!
KAYAKING TIP #2: A shorter kayak is slower but much more stable.
A Word About the Boat
My kayak is a Malibu Mini-X, great because it's only nine feet long but still has the rod holders and storage compartments that make it a fishing kayak. Most others are 12 foot plus and, although fast, are much easier to flip, not to mention harder to store and throw on top of your car. If you aren't into fishing, the classic Frenzy by Ocean Kayak is another great nine-foot kayak that will handle very rough conditions without flipping over. The only downside to both of these is that they will slow you down on a long trip...
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| Hello, Houston |
The Path Less Paddled
Fallen trees guard the bayou
An orange kayak paddle
A limbo beneath spiders
-Bayou Haiku
We cruised under the trees peacefully for a few minutes before encountering more obstacles. Apparently, nobody really paddles this part of the trail, as fallen trees blocked our path very often in the first mile or two. Jadd and I learned to define each barrier as either a "jump" or a "limbo". When the tree or branch hung at least a foot over the water, we would lay on our backs and pull ourselves under, which gave us great views of all kinds of spiders and a face full of bark, dirt, and webs every time. The limbo method is not for arachnophobes.
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| Face to face |
The "jump" method is much more fun. Enough momentum turns a half-submerged tree into a ramp and propels your kayak over the barrier to the other side. It's not Wave Race 64, you won't "get air", but it's still pretty satisfying. Many times we could only get halfway across, and had to pull our torsos onto other branches while kicking our yaks forward, all while keeping the vessels from rolling over. I don't think I ever had to get out and portage my kayak to the side, although the parks and wildlife department grandmotherly recommends this method on their website.
We also encountered several more choke points that could be considered "rapids". I'm not familiar with the classification levels, but I'm pretty sure none of them would be anywhere near extreme. Still, even relatively mild rapids can be dangerous if you hit a hidden rock and flip out of your kayak. They can also be pretty exhilarating.
A Word on Reading and Writing
My haikus are getting wet!!
- Jadd K.
Navigating these obstacles reminded me of a book I read recently, The River of Doubt. This true and harrowing story of Theodore Roosevelt's expedition down an unexplored tributary of the Amazon probably provided subconscious motivation for my kayaking quest, and also put things in perspective. The minor inconvenience of hitting a rock could have splintered a canoe and caused weeks of setbacks a century ago, while a portage would have consisted of days of heavy labor through absolutely brutal environments. I highly recommend this book for anyone tempted to complain about the inconveniences of kayaking in modern times.
KAYAKING TIP #3: Read The River of Doubt and ask yourself, "What would Teddy do?" any time you feel like giving up.
Speaking of books, part of my reason for beginning this blog was to start writing something, anything, in order to take a step towards my not-so-unique dream of becoming a published travel/adventure writer. A friend's recent joke about writing haikus led me to look up exactly what a haiku was. Apparently, haikus are the perfect way to practice writing about nature, as they are basically the Instagram of poetry- just a descriptive snapshot of a scene, often involving a thought-provoking or clashing juxtaposition of things. They do not include emotions or metaphors, but each reader will likely gleam their own profound meaning from the short poem. So, while it started as a joke, Jadd and I really did bring along composition journals to write haikus and/or sketch wildlife terribly in. And if you think poetry is not manly, keep in mind that many of the boldest explorers in history considered poetry books to be as essential to their provisions as salted beef and tobacco. Just ask Teddy.
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| Haiku is actually the proper plural of haiku |
Wildlife and Spirit Guides
Ten spiders weave a communal web
A small gray boat collides
Texting and kayaking
- Bayou Haiku
To me, the best part of paddling Buffalo Bayou is the opportunity to see a surprising variety of wildlife. Within minutes of launching your kayak, you'll likely notice fish jumping or splashing by the bank. Unfortunately, I quickly realized many of the jumping fish were mullet, which I only recently learned can survive in freshwater. Mullet are oily, trashy fish that nobody cares about and only serve to get your hopes up when you notice them leaping from the surface and belly flopping back into the water. However, many sunken roots and seemingly perfect nesting sites between access points one and three indicate a potential for holding bass. Also, the fact that the first leg of the paddling trail is difficult to traverse means that bass in that area are likely clueless compared to those in heavily-fished lakes and ponds. I didn't get to test my theory much because we were on a tight schedule, and I am an awful bass fisherman.
Gar are the most commonly seen fish in the bayou, and can often be seen hovering just under the surface. After floating by the third or fourth such lethargic creature, I really wished I had brought a fishing-reel equipped bow, although I have never tested my archery skills from a kayak. We also spotted carp and some very large catfish. I knew there were channel cats in the bayou, but there are apparently blues as well, since the largest one I have seen in the wild (about 3 feet) lumbered by my kayak midway through the trip, displaying striking white and yellow spots before sinking to the muddy depths where it ignored my watermelon-green plastic worm.
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| Great White Egret |
Plenty of avian friends can also be made along the bayou. What I always thought were cranes are actually great white egrets (which are a type of heron), and line the bayou in plentiful numbers. I wasn't able to identify most of the other birds we saw, but one bird stood out more than any other- the great blue heron. Early on during our expedition, I noticed the creature watching us from an elevated branch, while standing by one of its white egret cousins. But only when it took off across the bayou, occasionally letting out a mighty croak, did I appreciate its majesty. This bird's wingspan was noticeably wider than the egret's, and in contrast to the stark white of its relative, the blue heron's wings shone a dusky blue topped with steely gray as it glided hypnotically over the water.
Each time I approached the bird and attempted to take a picture, it would hunch down and fly downstream, where we would encounter it minutes later. This pattern suddenly raised an important question: If this bird was trying to stay away from us, why didn't it just go upstream? Was it that dumb? The only logical explanation is that the bird actually embodied a spirit from another world, purposely guiding us on our journey. This profound revelation filled me with even more awe at the magnificent being. So when Jadd threw a peanut towards the bird and it finally flew upstream, my heart sank with the knowledge that the portal between our dimension and that of the spirit heron's was now closed and I would never achieve oneness with nature.
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| The worst picture anyone has ever taken of a blue heron |
Besides birds, fish, and spiders, many strange animals call Buffalo Bayou their home. Bats reportedly live somewhere along the bayou, and I am almost sure I heard their squeaky chatters echoing under the bridge at Chimney Rock. Also, here is a shrimp/crawfish/scorpion thing I picked off of a floating log. What is it???
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| Unidentified bayou demon |
Turtles can be seen floating or basking on rocks, and rumor has it there are even otters living in parts of the bayou, though I believe they reside in a portion that is not covered by the paddling trail. I did encounter one more mystery creature towards the end of our trip, which I thought was another large catfish. As a dark brown shadow emerged just under the surface of the water in front of my kayak, I was surprised to hear a snap and suddenly see the inside of a pink mouth. The creature dived down and I noticed it's tail did not look forked like that of a fish. Had I just seen a juvenile gator? I felt strangely disturbed, like I had seen something I wasn't supposed to. But I later learned that alligators do indeed make their homes in the bayou, although they are quite reclusive, so it's unlikely that I truly encountered one on my first trip. The existence of alligators shouldn't scare anybody away from paddling the trail, though, as gators have not been responsible for a death in Texas in over 150 years.
Going The Distance
We started our day in high spirits, but along the way, I had some creeping doubts about whether we would make it to the end of the trail by sunset. I had no idea whether the whole trail would be littered with debris or how many times we would have to stop and maneuver around obstacles. The first challenge was apparent after less than a mile of kayaking, when Jadd asked me whether his back was supposed to hurt, and I realized I forgot my detachable kayak seat in the car. This can be a minor annoyance for a short trip, but for an all-day marathon it would prove to be a serious threat to our finishing at all.
KAYAKING TIP #4: Invest in a quality kayak seat for long trips to avoid lower back pain. Also, don't leave it in the car.
I had paddled without it plenty of times, but never for a trip even a quarter of this length. Back pain and fatigue became our main concern, and the sight of a smooth rock became akin to seeing a friendly inn on a long road trip.
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| Make sure to take basking breaks |
In the absence of time or flat rocks to rest on, I laid back against my tackle box to stretch and just floated for a minute or two. Squeezing my eyes shut to block out the glaring August sun, I drifted under a tree and suddenly felt cool air on my face as my eyelids relaxed beneath the shade. I opened my eyes to see the long, swaying willow leaves forming an arch around me, and all the aching disappeared.
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| Pretty shady |
Brown water rushes forward
Rippling past a fallen branch
That has pierced a bag of Doritos
-Bayou Haiku
Our next challenge presented itself when Jadd announced that his Camelbak, our main source of water for the trip, was completely empty. "It must have leaked or maybe I drank it all", he shrugged. "Did you even fill it up all the way? There's no way you drank 100 ounces, we've only kayaked like three miles". If we had been kayaking down a true wilderness trail, we may have been in serious trouble. Luckily, we were able to ration the remaining water in my 32 ounce bottle until we reached San Felipe Street, more than halfway to downtown. There, we docked our kayaks under the bridge and emerged from the forested bayou onto a busy street. It's incredible that such a seemingly isolated wilderness flows directly under the busy streets of Houston. We climbed onto the road and walked to a nearby gas station, where we each inhaled a bottle of Gatorade before re-filling our water supply. Jadd's water rationing skills were further questioned when his Camelbak turned up empty a few miles later, but at least we were re-hydrated and within a few hours of the finish line by then.
The stench of summer garbage
Father and son play under the bridge
The park was just twenty feet away...
-Bayou haiku
We assumed the sun would be our enemy on the trip, and although we sweated through many unshaded stretches, the bayou is well-covered by trees throughout much of it's length. It was also a mostly overcast day. In fact, heavy downpours drenched us for a good hour of the afternoon, which was more refreshing than anything else, although Jadd lamented the destruction of his haiku book. My waterproof phone also proved not-so waterproof during this time, so we were down to Jadd's iPhone on 10% battery around four in the afternoon, with a good eight miles to go. Without a reliable phone, we would be unable to track our progress or contact our ride to pick us up at the end. I started to get nervous, especially with Jadd beginning to lose steam. A few miles later, he requested we stop for a while, but I knew we didn't have time- I didn't want to be carrying a kayak around downtown at midnight. So we connected Jadd's kayak to mine with a fishing stringer and I fought to make progress while I dragged him until he regained his strength.
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| Jadd taking the guided tour |
Around 7pm, we turned the phone on to make a call. Jadd was done. I recognized a friend's apartment complex on the bank of the bayou, and Jadd dragged his kayak barely out of the water before collapsing to sleep on the pavement. With one hour left before sunset, I estimated I had three or four miles to go, took Jadd's phone, and kayaked towards downtown as fast as I could while he awaited his ride.
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| A skyline appears |
I had previously paddled the last two miles through downtown, so once I reached a familiar point, I knew that I was in the home stretch. The forest gave way to the Houston skyline as joggers and cyclists became active before sunset, as most animals do. The last few miles were a blur. A mullet flopped into the water as I approached a bridge atop which a woman stretched, leaning against the ledge. I wondered if she was about to jump into the water ahead of me. A purple bird stared at me before I crossed under another bridge where a sweatsuit-clad man flapped his arms in the twilight. The sky darkened as I passed the Ferris wheel and blue lights of the Downtown Aquarium restaurant. And finally, a neon green sign reading "Spaghetti Warehouse" peeked through the trees as I rounded the last corner at Allen Park, the historic center of Houston.
Epilogue
A dragonfly, flashing crimson
Lands on my paddle
Wings purse shut, it was a drab brown moth
-Bayou Haiku
I dragged my kayak up the muddy bank and stashed it in some bushes, trying to hide it from some teenagers loitering on their bikes nearby. My friend had picked up Jadd and was waiting in the parking lot, and the journey was over. The next few hours were spent assessing and mitigating all the damage that was done throughout the day. My phone still wouldn't work, my car had been broken into by the time we got back, Jadd's wallet was gone, and it was too late to pick up the kayaks, so we wouldn't know they were safe until the next day. Regardless, we ended the night true to our original plan of stuffing our faces at a burger joint, and that was immensely satisfying. I'll need to take a break to fix my window, my phone, and my back, but I'm already excited about exploring the next trail. Just 59 to go!
Finally, I don't recommend that anyone kayaks the Buffalo Bayou Paddling Trail in one day unless you just want a challenge. To enjoy the trail, I would start at Terry Hershey Park, or Access Point 2, as this puts you past much of the difficult debris and into the most wooded and serene stretch of the trail. There is also a kayak rental and shuttle service that can make a trip down the bayou simple and easy, even for first-time paddlers. When you do take a break from city life to explore the historic Buffalo Bayou, I think you'll realize that it's actually one of the most Houston things you can do.
