The text from Winston was concise and to the point, much in the way that the man himself speaks.
“Do you want to do the Colorado on Diablo paddle boards?”
Well let’s see, considering that this would combine two things i’ve longed to experience in greater detail over the last few years, i guess i could have responded by asking if the Pope was Catholic. (In case you aren’t aware, he is, at least publicly.)
Walking onto the factory floor of Diablo Paddlesports the next day, right here in south Austin to borrow some boards for the day, i felt like i was stepping into a dream. Between it’s walls were 50 or so of the paddle boards that i’ve been pining over during the last few years, all in various states of production. It made me feel like Charlie, making his way around the Willy Wonka factory, except that Thomas (one part of the two owners) was about the nicest man you could hope to meet, down-home Texas hospitality as opposed to Wonka’s neurotic East Coast temperament.
It’s putting it mildly to say that standing amidst various pieces of a thing that i have so long desired was a little strange, a feeling doubtlessly magnified by a scratched cornea (thanks to a fight with an Agave in my yard the day before), and the inability to focus that it caused.
Loading the boards onto the vehicles with Thomas’s help, the three of us, Chris, Miles, Winston and i, headed off for East Austin, eagerly anticipating a half day float. Driving down East Cesar Chaves i was amazed to be taken to a newly established MOCKayak shop hovering 50 feet or so above the Colorado River, just below Longhorn dam. The staff there eagerly helped us load our four Diablo boards on to their lift that gently sent our borrowed boards down to the banks of the Colorado so that we could conveniently set off on a five mile float that would end up supplying some of us with frustration, and others with glimpses of bliss.
If you haven’t heard of MOC (Mud Outdoor Center) Kayaks (as was my case before this trip), know that this shop provides all your retail kayak needs as well as the INCREDIBLE service of shuttling you along the Colorado river. Danny (the owner, and another friendly Texan) and his son Dan (ditto) not only know the ins and out of everything kayak, they also know the Colorado like their back yard, which is good, because it is. (Check out their webpage for information and maps of this float trip, and don’t foget to tell them that die Fische sent you!)
On the advice of Chris, a regular on these waters, who possessed a calm and cool charisma that made me feel confident in his advice on all things Colorado River, we paddled the first couple of miles quickly, making only the occasional cast along the heavily leaved banks. Eventually passing under highway 183, it felt like we were entering another place, if not another time, as the urban density quickly vanished out of sight, at least for the four souls that were floating waters that had been there long before the urban sprawl popped up like a plague along this amazing stretch of water.
A couple of hours (maybe?) into the float, we were all firing blanks even though the stained water, and the weather had raised all our hopes to a ridiculous degree. Firing a VIP Popper directly into a deep hole below a Bald Cypress (a tree that exudes everything i love about Texas fishing, but that’s a story for another time), i watched the fly settle comfortably in the shade before being bombarded by the first fish of the day, a respectable sized Largemouth that if nothing else ended our skunk rather abruptly.
Shortly after this minor victory, we entered a giant slow moving pool that welcomed us with constant slapping of the waters surface. Gar. I have NEVER seen anything like it, Spotted, Longnose, and Alligator (easily 6 feet long) were surfacing everywhere around me before diving into the murky depths, surely just to plot how they might freak me out with their relentless breathing / snapping. After spending far to much time on this hole trying to catch one (with multiple close calls on a hand tied Rope Bait) i struggled to catch up with the other three that were far down stream, intent on catching far more respectable fish.
Strangely enough, as soon as i caught up with them, i realized that they were in another hole trying to land the same fish that i had just left behind (Gar). Armed with flies that hopefully could do the job, as well as a few spare moments (now that i was back with the flotilla), i managed to snag and land my second Spotted Gar of the year, a minor victory for me, since it showed that i finally knew what the hell i was doing when it came to this exotic and ancient fish.
Working our way downstream we arrived at some quick moving water that poured feverishly over a rocky bottom, the perfect spot for Guadalupe. Heading away from the spot that the others had chose (which really did seem like the best spot) i found a small section of quick water in the shade. Exiting the Diablo and stalking a possibly snake infested bank (you’ll know one when you see one, welcome to Texas) i skirted the pool directly below the small rapids and tossed the VIP into the whitewater to do it’s thing. I swear that this almost never happens to me, but on that cast the Popper rode the (to it) Class IV rapids, cussing and swearing all the while, before entering the calm pool below, and taking a second or two to reflect on what it meant to be a foam popper before suddenly being inhaled by a giant Guadalpe Bass intent on devouring this fast food.
The length of the fish shown above can be deceiving, although it was just shy of 13″, it was built like tank, thicker than most Largemouth i’ve encountered on Hill Country waters, apparently a common feature of Guadalupe on this trench of water.
Slightly downstream of this Guadalupe, i lost what was truly the fish of the day. The current pushed my hard against a deep cut on a bank where i managed to hook a Guadalupe that was somewhere in the 18-20″ range (feel free to call me out Chris). With no anchor, water that was easily over my head, and flows that caused me to spin uncontrollably along the cliffs, i fought the bass for minutes as my five weight suddenly looked and felt like a two weight. As soon as i regained my composure and had the net in hand i bent forward, scooped the water, and watched as my line went slack and the fish took off to meet it’s friends for happy hour. A trophy fish lost. It was a feeling of loss that was only assuaged by the fact that later i realized that this body of water was not eligible for the THC Mixed Bag contest that i’m working feverishly to win. Oh well, that’s life.
As we were sitting around in the shade of Canoe Camp, the designated pull out for MOCKayak, i found my mind racing with thoughts. The first was how grateful i was to be invited on a trip that felt like a vacation, the ten hours of bliss felt like days of relaxation, all nearby and close to home. Secondly was the fact that i obviously HAD to get my own Diablo, they hovered through spots that would leave my YoloYak high centered, two inches of water were all that was needed for an uninterrupted float, and every detail was obviously over analyzed by a fisherman. Thirdly, i couldn’t believe that this whole trip was sitting there, ready and willing for anyone with a few bills (and the interest in pitching themselves into the aquatic wild). Get out there and do it, you won’t regret it.
As with all good things, this day had to come to an end, i’m just thankful that it is likely not the last adventure on this water and with these folks.
Thank you Winston, Chris, and Miles for making it such great day. And a special thank you to Thomas at Dialbo Paddlesports as well as Danny and Dan at MOC Kayaks for making it all possible!
