When rivers go crazy

Last week we went on a drizzly paddle, floating from the I-10 bridge in Comfort to James Kiehl Park on the upper Guadalupe. There were some nice little rapids and scenery, but it's a stretch I haven't been on very much.

What struck me almost from the beginning was the amazing amount of debris hanging around (sometimes literally!) from previous floods. [apologies in advance for fuzzy spots on the photos—remember, it was drizzly]

It's really almost cruel. Here we are, scraping our boats through low-water rapids we should be sailing along, and on all sides is evidence of too much, not too little, water.

But it's also impressive, and a bit sobering, to think of the force of moving water. I mean, can you even imagine the energy required to slot this tree in between his two cousins?

Not all of the effects were this spectacular, but even the piles of debris, like in the photo on the left, tell you that there was a lot of water running through here at one point in the past.

And these piles were everywhere!

Below is another one, this a monumental structure consisting of small debris, a couple of large trees and what looks for all the world like a kitchen chair up on top (click on the images to see larger versions).

Scary as some of these piles are (and when they overhang the channel you really don't want to float through them) what's most sobering to us is the evidence of watercraft that, hopefully, weren't inhabited during the high water:

a live boat floats by a dead one

So, river gods, we'd appreciate a little more water, but not too much, please!

Wordless Wednesday: birds on a wire

Rockin' at the lake

We were invited to a friend's Canyon Lake house last weekend and, besides having a great time visiting, eating, and drinking with our generous hosts, I thought the Lake looked grand.

Perhaps it was the low winter sun, but for whatever reason, the Lake's water looked particularly jewel-like, with the richest blues and greens.

Another reason for the fresh (to me) look of the place was that we were at a different point on the Lake's voluminous and varied shoreline than where we usually visit. Our friend's house is on a scenic little dip in the shoreline that we used to call Paradise Cove. I can remember boating over to here back in prehistoric times (ie., before kids) and watching people jump off some of the cove's cliffs. You can see the kind of rockfaces I mean in the picture on the right.

Now our friends call the place "Party Cove," since in warmer weather it's a favorite destination for well-lubricated young boaters and jumpers. Because Canyon Lake was developed, and is still maintained, by the Army Corps of Engineers, the waterfront is all public property, up to a certain elevation at least. You can't build on it and you can't keep anyone else from using it.

I've always rather appreciated this communal aspect to the place, at least in theory, although I might feel differently if our place was in such a scenic location as our friends'. However, in the winter there's no problem with loud stereos, and the place is simply beautiful.

Especially those fabulous cliffs. The rocks drew my eye even more than the lovely water. Spectacular formations like the cleft above on the left, and just the amazing sculptural details in the limestone (like on the right) demand to be showcased.

Of course, the combination of rugged rocks and silky water is impossible to beat.

Add in some of the very picturesque gnarled trees that cling to the rocky soil and survive our dry, brutal summers and occasional flash floods, and you get something like this:

A nice walk before our scrumptious dinner presented more photo-opps. And though the water might have looked inviting to those insane adventurous folks who like to jump into it, I was happy just to enjoy the crowd-less contrasting surfaces...

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....and, yes, I like the beach better in the winter, too....

Wordless Wednesday: an odd place for snow

Wordless Wednesday: cheeseheads anonymous

Winter Wonderland

...well, not exactly. I don't think .4" of the white stuff is winter wonderland material in most of the country.

But we got pretty excited about it around here on Friday. Like my little neighbor, enjoying her day off from school by trying to collect some in a pail. I hope she didn't think there'd be enough for a snowman...

I didn't have to go to work, either, and neither did lots of other San Antonians. Some clueless media folks blamed the snow, but it was really the little layer of ice under it that made driving dangerous, especially for those inexperienced with such hazards. I mean, if it had just been the snow, the roads would have been fine.

We had enough ice in our yard and on the sidewalk that I put my hiking boots on to walk around taking pictures—a little more traction made me feel a lot more secure.

I didn't venture out any further than the yard, but Henry went to work, figuring that he doesn't have far to drive and wouldn't run into too many panicky SA drivers. He did deal with spinning wheels a few times on the way, he told me, but there were very few cars with him on the roads. All the same, our paper reported there were some 500 wrecks and said that eventually the tow trucks had to limit their service calls to rescuing police and fire vehicles!

Here are a few more shots of the precipitation that's so unusual for our area:

doesn't our handsome front porch look a little like a wedding cake with this frosting?

it was odd what the snow stuck to and what it didn't...here's our canoe for sale with a little dusting

someone was up and out before us

What was even more unusual than the fact that we had snow was the fact that some was still around Saturday. Some of the ice, too. Here's a photo I took at 6 p.m. Friday evening, and the porch (on the north side of the house) still had this much in the morning:

We've just had a really, really cold week, with several nights' lows in the low 20's and highs barely—if at all—above freezing. We know that doesn't sound like much to our friends and relatives up north, but a prolonged spell like this doesn't happen here often. It will provide us with conversational fodder, plenty of stories, and plenty of business for plumbers and body shops for some time to come.

[Although I suppose I should add that we're supposed to hit 70° today. Sorry, New Englanders.]

Wordless Wednesday*: bits in the stream

*a little late