Good night, sleep tight, etc., etc., etc.

In case anyone is wondering what could have possessed me to take all the clothes out of my closet, not to mention why I haven't been blogging much lately, let me assure you I had good motivation for the former and a good excuse for the latter.

We spent last weekend preparing for, undergoing, and recovering from, treatment for bedbugs.

Yes, the little beasties that have been all over the media, from Fresh Air to the Daily Show to who knows where else—we had [note hopefulness connotation attached to past tense] them, too.

We aren't sure where we picked them up, but suspicion is hovering over our trip east in May, or possibly Henry's business trip to the Rio Grande Valley in July. We base these conjectures on some of what we've learned about their life cycles, coupled with the fact that we weren't at home providing them with a food supply for almost the whole month of August.

I know it's a really gross topic, but in the interest of education, I feel compelled to tell you a little bit about our ordeal.

After futilely thinking, for about 24 hours, that we could handle the infestation ourselves, we called in the pros. And that led to the closet-emptying exercise, which is required both to get rid of any hitchhiking bugs, and to allow the more efficient treatment of the area. We also had to get all the clothes and papers and whatever out of the furniture near the bed. The clothing made a trip to our friendly neighborhood laundromat, where it was run through their industrial strength dryers. It seems that, clever as they are, the little buggers are wimps when it comes to high temperatures and that's the best way to get rid of them.

We tried to look at this work as an opportunity to de-clutter somewhat and both of us did put together large bundles of stuff to throw away and to donate (after the dryer treatment! don't worry, Boysville thrift shop shoppers!). [I debated about getting rid of my Paul Newman coat hanger (see right), but since I've had it since high school, and it doesn't really take up much space....]

The exterminator guys only found traces of the insects in the bed and two pieces of furniture on either side of it. Nothing in the guest areas of the house, folks! However, they treated all the bedrooms and the living room, where Henry and I had been sleeping (on the floor on our wonderful super-camping-sleeping-pads) since the discovery last Tuesday.

Stuff that couldn't go in the dryer we left in two layers of black plastic garbage bags on the back porch in the sun for a couple of days. [the picture above was taken when the contents of most of the bags had been repatriated into the house] Surely the temperature inside those bags reached more than 120°? Wouldn't you think?

Just in case the heat treatment didn't work, though, I methodically put almost all of the stuff in the freezer for several hours as well. By god, if any bedbugs survived that treatment.... well, .... that would mean that I have aided in the evolution of super-bedbugs, so let's just hope none did.

We've put the waterbed back together and hope to be off the floor tonight. And it will be very nice when the exterminator follow-up check comes in a couple of weeks, if they don't find any re-infestation.

We will be taking all kinds of paranoid precautions when we travel in the future. For example, before I leave for a business trip to Washington in a few weeks, I'm going to hang a complete change of clothes in our laundry room. When I get home I'll head right in there, strip, and give everything that spent 3 days in the hotel the hot water and hot air treatment.

Here's hoping none of my gentle readers have to live through this really icky (although, in honesty, not really dangerous) ordeal. But if you do and want to discuss tips and strategies, let me know.

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One of the worse things about the timing of this adventure is that it came right in the middle of my researching for a new camera. I didn't mention it in my Devils River posts (there was enough negative news there as it was) but I slipped during our lunch break and landed on my rear in a pool of water, while holding my camera. This second dunking (the first was in Kentucky in May) did in yet a few more of the poor dear's higher brain functions, and I've decided it really is time for a new machine.

If this sounds like an advance excuse for not blogging too much for the next week or so, until I can decide on the camera and get it ordered and delivered, then, well, it is. I will try to make the hiatus a brief one.

Wordless Wednesday: a clothes-less closet

explanation to follow...

Wordless Wedndesday: a colorful city

Devil of a River

Note: There are many more photos from this trip (89 to be exact) in this Flickr set.

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On the plus side, you have beautiful and [mostly] unspoiled scenery, amazingly clear water, and a very congenial group of paddling companions.

a sample of Devils River water (more shots like this are below and even more in the Flickr set...I took a lot!)

But on the minus...well, for me the minuses ended up making our Devils River trip a good bit too exciting for my [admittedly outstandingly] wimpish sense of adventure.

Number One on my minus list would have to be the fields of reeds (composed largely of bamboo, but with all kinds of other bushy plants helping them out) that made "scouting" several of the class II and III rapids along the way almost impossible. Not to mention having to decide in a split second in the middle of a rapid whether to go left, right, or down the middle, since you couldn't see ahead any farther.

The picture on the right was taken near the end of the trip, where we were waiting for our remaining friends to make it through the very aptly named Reeds Chutes Rapid. The rapid is only rated class II, but the lack of visibility due to the reeds should have bumped it up a notch, imho. The channel I'm looking up wasn't the best one for them to be using, but the better choices unfortunately didn't look a lot different.

Julie attempts to "scout" [ha!] Three Tier Rapid, which is class III

Another reedy scene

The reeds by themselves would have constituted a major obstacle to carefree paddling on this beautiful stream. But unfortunately they were also joined by Minus Number Two: low water exposing LOTS of rocks. It seems that Tropical Storm Hermine didn't make it this far west last week, and so there wasn't much runoff to cover up those pesky, and sometimes dangerous, rocks.

On the left is one we didn't have trouble avoiding, but hundreds of its little cousins gave us quite a few headaches. Almost literally.

We got stuck on innumerable rocks, and had to get out of the boat in water that, though too low to make for easy paddling, was still forceful enough to make wading and boat manoeuvering difficult.

We also went swimming twice, involuntarily [the water was so pretty that voluntary swimming definitely counted on the plus side of the ledger]. Once rather spectacularly after failing to make a sharp turn and running up on a huge flat rock. Henry's yelled advice: "Get out of the boat!" Which I interpreted to mean jump clear of the canoe into the water. [He's always told me to get away from the boat when it capsizes. Getting trapped in your craft is a paddler's worse nightmare.] What he meant was to try and step off onto the rock. Although I think, had I tried that, I might have ended up with a broken leg as the rear of the canoe was already spinning away in the current. Fun! [not]

This adventure happened just above Three Tier Rapid. On the bright side, our being out of the water at the top of it (I was able to get to shore after butt-surfing over one of the Tiers) allowed us to help the friends behind us find the right channel through the reeds and have at least a decent chance of hitting the entrance to the rapid correctly. On the right, above, Henry is assisting Joan, our trip's Dear Leader, to do this. (It also allowed me to take photos of them.)

I was too spooked from this incident to want to go down the rest of the rapid so Henry ran it on his own, very skillfully, in the canoe. Here's a shot of him about midway through:

As it turned out, all but one of the kayakers made it through ok, too, and although Katie also ended up swimming, she was none the worse for the wear.

On the left we're lined up waiting for our celebratory margaritas, which, along with a nice rest in the cool clear water (and a prolonged fishing stop for Bing) was our well-earned reward for surviving this difficult stretch of the river.

Three Tier isn't the most dangerous rapid on the river, however. That honor goes to Dolan Falls, a class IV that none of us even toyed with the idea of running.

It's a really beautiful water feature, that we had plenty of time to view and photograph while we worked on how to get our boats around it.

Here Henry is standing just upstream from the falls, considering his portage options [although I admit for a moment I was afraid he was thinking about going over in the boat...if the water had been a little higher he might have considered it. Testosterone is a dangerous thing.]


The "book" says to portage river left, but as it's a bit brushy over there, we were advised to go to the right. However, the right-hand bank has some pretty steep cliffs to get the boats over. The kayakers in the group were industrious and ingenious, though, and found a good way to work together and get their boats back in the river. On the right, Katie, Claire, and Margaret are lining Claire's kayak down the rockface.

Henry decided that the gentler slope on the left outweighed the brush that was there and decided to use that side of the river for his portage. I say "his" rather than "ours" because I was on the right side of the river by this time and neither of us thought I could manage to wade across the current to the other side to help him with the boat. He didn't wade, either, but lined the boat back upstream and paddled it down and over to the left bank. I wasn't particularly interested in doing that, though, so he was on his own.

I just got to watch as he actually lined the canoe over the falls! Pretty ingenious but also a little scary! However, he handled the manoeuver quite skillfully and it saved having to drag the canoe over yards of abrasive rocks. Here he is right after getting the boat down the large channel that makes up the right portion (as seen in the picture) of the falls.

I should have gotten a picture of the boat in mid-fall, but it was too scary watching him to think about taking pictures. I know I wouldn't make a good photo-journalist. Sorry!

Anyway, you can see here how beautifully the rocks and water combine to make this very scenic spot. Henry canoed back upstream to get a closer look, and my shot of him gives you a more panoramic view:

an even closer-up view of part of Dolan Falls, taken from the rocks above it

There's another class III rapid on this stretch of the river, Indian Creek Rapid, but we actually made it through there ok. It had reeds and rocks, but not as many of either as in some of the other tough stretches. Our group had two swimmers, though, at the end of Indian Creek:

click on the image to see a larger version, so you can pick out the person-less boats; the bow of our canoe is on the far right, just watching the action, ready to catch boats, paddles, or people as needed

But enough about the adventure of the trip. It really is very lovely countryside, and here are a few scenes to prove it:

rocky hillsides and Caribbean-colored water

you don't need a glass-bottomed boat to see these water plants on the river bottom

looking downstream from Three Tier Rapid

another underwater scene from on top of the water

As you can see, I was quite taken with the clarity of the water. It was amazing! This was a definite positive highlight of the trip for me, and one reason I'm glad I went, in spite of bumps, bruises, and moments of sheer terror!

Another reason I'm glad I went was the fun we had with our paddling companions. What a congenial group! We spent two nights at Who Cares? B&B (actually rather a combination B&B and hostel; there's no website but I can get you the contact information if you're interested) near Del Rio and had a wonderful time there eating, drinking, conversing...and, of course, loading and unloading boats.

After our paddling adventure we drove to the Rough Canyon Marina, on Lake Amistad, which is the enormous reservoir the Devils River empties into. We were really looking forward to a hearty dinner at Hooker's, a restaurant/bar/souvenir shop/fishing outfitter on the lake. It hadn't occurred to any of us that going as late as we were on a Sunday evening they might not be open...But what great folks! Even though the kitchen was closed (the bar was open, since, of course, the Cowboys were playing that night) they fired up grills again for us and we had wonderful burgers and beer.

And, going by the sign by the door, I'm sure we'll be welcome there again.

I'll close with this iconic west Texas scene, neat clouds over range and ranch buildings, taken at the B&B our first night. It was a devil of a river, but a heck of a trip.

Wordless Wednesday: river colors

Hermine hits the bull's eye

Being as close to the Gulf as we are (150 miles to Corpus Christi) we know from hurricanes and tropical storms here in San Antonio. Normally, we appreciate the rain they sometimes bring. [Although the worst Texas hurricane in recent years, Ike, that brought such devastation to Galveston while I was in London, gave SA nothing. Not. a. drop.]

But I don't remember ever being hit straight on by one of these monsters, like we were on Tuesday by Hermine. It never became a hurricane before making landfall just south of the Texas-Mexico border, but its eye, while somewhat ragged, was still easily identifiable as such when it passed over us around midday.

And just ask Houston residents if tropical storms are much of a problem. TS Allison, in 2001, caused as much damage and havoc as any but the biggest hurricanes.

Fortunately, we didn't have to deal with anywhere near that kind of devastation, but according to the stats in our paper, we broke rain records for two days in a row, had up to 60 mph winds, and thousands of people were without power for hours—generally more weather excitement than we are normally used to.

The St. Mary's campus was among those places without power, and although our building has lots of windows so it wasn't too spooky, it started getting stuffy pretty fast. Plus, contrary to our traditional image, librarians can't do too much work without our computers.

So since I was planning on taking the afternoon off anyway, I just waited a bit until the wind seem to die down, then left the darkened library.

I didn't have much trouble with water on the way home, and didn't start seeing a lot of downed trees and limbs until I had traveled a ways east. On the left above is one of the obstacles I fortunately was able to get around.

I was beginning to wonder what my street would look like. As it turned out, we didn't lose power at all, but Hermine did leave a couple of calling cards in our yard.

A large-ish limb from one of the cedar elms in the front yard got blown off. You can see Henry (not to clearly, I'm afraid) wrestling with the biggest part of the downed limb on the right here.

And there was this really odd-looking metal contraption (see left) in the middle of the back yard. Mysterious bar-b-que grill accessory? Some new item of boat gear that Henry neglected to tell me about? Flying saucer propulsion system housing?

No, it came to me eventually. It was the cap that had been on our chimney! It blew right off! It's not really heavy, but it's not all that light, either, and it was on, we thought, fairly securely.

So, we had some big wind here! I'm glad I wasn't at home when this was going on, as I rather think it would have been a little scary.

Some of my neighbors suffered worse damage and on a bike ride this morning I saw several crews like the guys you see on the right here. Their business is booming, at least for now!

Take a look at those giant pieces of tree they'd been working with.

Below is the tree they're having to dismantle. How lucky the homeowner was that it didn't fall in another direction!

And here's the site of another big crash, this time with some structural damage as well:

Next time, we'll go for the glancing blow rather than the direct hit, if it's all the same to you, weather gods.

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By coming straight at San Antonio, rather than following the slightly more westward track that was originally predicted, Hermine probably didn't interfere with our plans for the upcoming weekend.

We are going on a canoe/kayak trip down the Devil's River near Del Rio on Sunday. It's supposed to be a really beautiful stream and we're looking forward to seeing it. I'll take my camera and try to have some good photos and stories for you from the trip some time next week.

Wordless Wednesday: Hermine comes calling

Rio Chama: on the river

How's this for riding the river in style?

What a clever husband I have! He rigged up such a great seat for me on our cata-raft. As he [mostly] expertly handled the rowing and the raft's giant tubes bounced us off [most] of the obstacles that weren't steered around, I just got to sit in comfort and enjoy the view. (Thanks to Mike for letting me use this picture he took of us.)

I was doing work, too, though: providing ballast to help balance out the weight of the enormous amount of gear that you can see at the back of the boat. Ah! My inability to lose weight actually becomes an advantage in some circumstances!

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Now for a brief overview of the trip and what I was able to see from my queenly perch.

We set off from Cooper's campground, right at the base of El Vado dam, on Friday
morningafternoon. Part of the delay in leaving was unavoidable due to the length of the shuttle required [Thanks, Hal!] but part was. It just seemed to take forever to pack up the danged boats!

But once we were underway [most of] that frustration was forgotten. Here's a sample of the first day's views from the front of the raft:

looking back upstream at Mike, Michael and Chris in their canoes

a look ahead at the river and the canyon

Mike comes up to check on us

Campsites along the river are available on a first-come, first-served basis, and, being a natural worry-wart, I was somewhat concerned about finding good places. The first night we were very lucky, though, and found an excellent site on our first try. There was a convenient gravel bar for the boats, a good communal kitchen area, and several nice tent spots. You can see our tent, in its spot right on the river, on the left here. The picture was taken Saturday morning before we broke camp.

The river duffle bag in the foreground is what held most of our sleeping gear, along with one of our tables and some other miscellaneous stuff. Thanks to the cata-raft, we didn't have to travel too lightly. Although we certainly could have done without some of the gear and supplies and will try to be more efficient on our next trip.

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Saturday was another fun day of floating. The 30+ mile section of the Chama that we traveled does offer some class III rapids. But we found that at the water level we experienced (probably around 950 cubic feet per second) none of the rapids we encountered in the canyon were a problem for us. There were a lot of rather large standing waves that I wish I could have taken a picture of for you. But these mostly provided just welcome refreshing splashes that kept us cool under the powerful New Mexico sun. (Maybe I need a waterproof camera? However, I also was holding on to the raft straps with both hands during these stretches so I would have needed a robotic waterproof camera, which is probably beyond my budget.)

Here is a sort of mini-rapid that I was able to photograph, off to the side as we passed it:


Individual rocks posed more of a problem for us than the named rapids. On the right you can see one that would definitely have caused trouble if we'd gotten stuck on it. The one on the left might have been an even more difficult problem, since the flatter ones are harder to see. Fortunately we avoided both of these beasties.

On the first day, however, we got stuck twice on rocks that Henry was unable to avoid, and some effort was required to break us free. Possibly because of these difficulties, the rest of our party decided to let us be in the lead most of the day Saturday, so that they wouldn't be waiting for us and wondering if we were ok as we worked at getting unstuck. Also, it's just a matter of physics that our bouyant inflatable craft is generally slower that the hard-sided boats our friends were using.

Happily, though, we had no such mishaps on Saturday. Perhaps my rock scouting was improving, although Henry's increased rowing experience was probably also a factor.

looking back upstream at our friends after passing through some fast water

Gary expertly avoiding some big river rocks

Steve tries to hitch a ride on a rare slow stretch

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We had a little more trouble with our campsite search on Saturday. Several of the sites that we'd marked on our map as good possibilities were already taken when we passed them. However, we ended up with a beauty of a spot, right near Huckaby Canyon (where some of us hiked on Sunday; read about that excursion here) and safely within the camping-allowed area of the canyon. It was minus the convenient gravel bar for disembarking and embarking the boats, but otherwise it was an even better site than the first night's.

You can see our wonderful new tent in its lovely surroundings on the right. This tent portrait includes its rain fly, which we slept without on Friday. Let's just say that we gained a good appreciation for the fly's insulating properties after being a bit chilly that night. Even though most of our Rio Chama days were warm enough to enjoy the cold splashes we got in the rapids, the nights were cool enough to warrant an extra tent layer.

In addition to the generally great spectacular scenery surrounding our Saturday-Sunday campsite, there was some nice micro-scenery, too. Like this nodding onion I discovered not far from our tent. Being mid-August, most of the area's wildflowers were unfortunately no longer on display. So I was especially happy to see this beauty.

Henry, Mike and I stayed at this great site for two nights. Which made the "raft boudoir" you can see below an extra welcome feature of the place. Steve discovered some steady, level rocks just at the stern of where the cata-raft, with its handy frame for holding on, was moored. What a great place to take care of nature's business, and even have a quick (and cold!) Aggie shower! (You can also see another use to which the raft frame was put in this photo: we tied a net bag full of soda cans to it and voila!—nature's own refrigerator!)


We were sorry to have to say good-bye to more than half of our party Sunday morning, but work committments required Michael, Chris, Gary and Steve to forego the extra day on the river. So here they are heading out for the last, and most challenging, section of the trip:

Mike & Chris in our Buffalo canoe

Gary (and his groover) say adiós

cheerful Steve in his cheerful yellow

We saw lots of other folks pass by our campsite that morning, too, since most of the Chama's trippers end their journey Sunday. It was particularly nice to see Del, in the canoe on the left, the BLM's helpful ranger who had seen us off from Cooper's two days earlier. He was glad to see that we were still all in one piece. His craft is a Dimension, the same kind of canoe that Mike was using.

Behind him, you can see one of the two dog-accompanied "mother ship" rafts we saw floating by that morning. It was carrying not only a furry friend but gear for one of the guide-accompanied parties on the river.

After our friends had left and these other parties had passed, the three of us remaining felt like we had the river to ourselves. We really enjoyed having another night in the same campsite—how luxurious not to have to break and re-make camp! In addition to our canyon hike, we reveled in the time available for naps, reading, river-watching, and eating a scrumptious spaghetti dinner that Mike prepared for us.

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Monday it was back on the river for us. As the Chama leaves its canyon and enters the open countryside near Georgia O'Keeffe's Ghost Ranch, there are some relatively slow stretches at first. We took advantage of one of these areas to give Mike some practice with the oars. Which he apparently enjoyed...

The scenery, which I might have mentioned before, was really spectacular out here. Even given that Monday's weather wasn't too cooperative.

I was a little nervous about the final section of the river, since I'd been hearing about its several class III rapids during the whole trip. But it turned out that the raft handled them beautifully, just bouncing off the obstacles and treating us to nothing more exciting than some big splashes.

Here is Mike finishing up some fast water:

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What a wonderful river this is! Not even 200 miles in length, it nonetheless packs quite a scenic wallop into those few miles.

The trip we took, from El Vado dam to the Big Eddy takeout, which is not far upstream from the reservoir at Abiquiqu (I usually heard this amazing word pronounced AB-ee-q) covers 31 miles and is the best whitewater section of the river. Access to the river here is regulated by a permit system that only allows a certain number of parties to travel it each weekend.

Normally, during the week, the river flow is curtailed to keep the water level up in El Vado Lake, but we noticed that the relatively high flow we experienced (950+ cfs) continued for several full weeks after our trip. A testament, no doubt, to the unusually wet summer they've had in the Colorado and New Mexico Rockies. Or perhaps it reflected the need for more water further downstream, maybe even after the Chama joins the Rio Grande, at Española.

The Chama's designation as a Wild and Scenic River means extra protection for some of the area's native inhabitants, such as the fine hawk that we saw on Monday. It also accounts for the stringent regulations about camping and packing out waste, which, while something of an inconvenience, is worth it if it means that future generations will be able to enjoy the river as we have.

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Tired, dirty, hungry [amazingly, after the spreads of food we had!] and thirsty, we were both sad and happy to see the takeout ramp at the Big Eddy. It is a very nice facility, but we were glad we had it to ourselves. I imagine that on Sunday afternoons there's something of a traffic jam there!

Mike approaches the takeout where the raft awaits unloading

The scenery doesn't quit with the river, either, as you can see from this shot on the road from Big Eddy leading back to US 84 and, eventually, civilization.


Henry plans to apply for a Chama permit every year! So even if I don't make all those trips, I believe I will get to experience this adventure, and this amazing countryside, again at some point.

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You can see all of my posts about this trip by clicking on the "Rio Chama" label on the right. I also have put almost all of my pictures into a Flickr collection that's divided into two unequal sets. "On the river" includes nearly 200 shots from the raft that feature the river, as well as our campsites and other aspects of our group's experiences. "Along the river," a smaller set, includes scenery shots that don't necessarily feature the river itself; this group includes the Huckaby Canyon and other rock-related scenery.

The photos I included in the blog posts are only a small subset of the pictures I took on the river. Check out the Flickr collection to see more views of this wonderful country.