Kayaking Clear Creek

Joy and Joann set out for Iowa at 6am. We got up early enough to see them off, and I spent a few hours working on the computer before Mike got up and helped us load his kayak on Joy's car.

We drove a few miles down the road to the creek that ran out of the base of the Ray Roberts Reservoir Dam. From the road, the creek wound six miles upstream to the base of the dam.

Though the water looked like milky coffee, Mike said it seemed unusually clear. The current was so slow we had no difficulty paddling upstream. After a half hour, we were far enough from the road it was beginning to feel like wilderness. The vegetation was thick along the banks and the air was filled with unfamiliar birdsong.

We nearly reached the reservoir. From my map it seemed to be just around the corner, but the water grew too shallow to continue. I got out and hiked upstream a little ways. We could have dragged our kayak through the rocky section, but it didn't seem to be worth the effort. By the time we got back to our put-in, we'd paddled nearly 8 miles. We could have continued downstream under the highway and into the nature conservancy, but the noise of traffic was irritating.

Amanda wanted to participate in a zoom meeting while we were out on the river, and I was prepared to pull over and spend an hour hanging out while this happened but when the time arrived, we lost cell service. We pulled to the bank and she hiked through the poison ivy to a higher vantage point, but it was too late. They wouldn't let her back in to the meeting.

The river was full of turtles and huge gar which would nap on the surface and jump out of the water when we approached. Some of these fish were a meter long. Once I thought we'd collided with one, but it was just Amanda kicking against the front of the kayak when a surprised gar startled her.

We also came to a bend in the river where the riverbank was completely churned up, like it was freshly tilled. We suspected wild pigs.

Paddling upstream we had to slide over fallen trees and stoop under low cobweb festooned boughs. The surrounding forest was so full of bird song it was like a jungle cruise.

When we returned, Mike was finishing up hamburgers and hot dogs. He'd invited the next door neighbor over for dinner. She was an aspiring birder and the conversation went as expected.

Each burger patty was larger than two I would have made for myself. When Mike asked for my preferred condiments I told him I liked pineapple and barbecue sauce. He was dismayed to hear this because he didn't have any pineapple. As a side we had baked beans, slaw, and jalapeno chips.

That evening Amanda went online looking for another adventure, and she convinced me to get up at 5am tomorrow to drive out to McKinney and accompany a local audubon chapter on a bird walk.