The stretch of the Rio Grande through Mariscal Canyon had been on my "to-do" list for some time. For one, it's in Big Bend National Park, the most beautiful spot in all of Texas, with its incredible diversity of rivers, desert and mountains. BBNP is undoubtedly one of the places that adds to the mystique and allure of Texas and certainly boosts our strong state pride. But one example is how the left bank of the Rio Grande is not referred to as the "U.S. side," but the "Texas side," which stands in contrast to how the right bank is referred to as "the Mexican side," not the "Coahuila side."
The fact that the very river I would float also marks the border between us and our troubled neighbor to the south only adds to the adventure. I recently read a few books on drug trafficking through West Texas so I was fully aware of the activities that take place in this Park. Indeed, the road we would take to the put-in, River Road East, is prominently featured in the book "Contrabando." The violent nature of drug traffickers was fresh in my mind due to the fact that an innocent American had recently been gunned down while jet skiing on Falcon Reservoir, several hundred miles down river. This, like so many of my other adventures, began with the typical spate of warnings from those who were aware of my plans ("You'll be killed by drug runners!"; "You'll be eaten by a mountain lion!"; "You could break a leg in the middle of the desert" were but a few of the warnings I received.) Truthfully, all of this simply added to the adventure. I found real joy in knowing that I would be floating a watery, international boundary, with the ability to cross into a foreign land with but a few strokes of my paddle. No border walls, Border Patrol, international bridges, or customs agents would be there to watch over me.
Mariscal was especially appealing because it is probably the easiest canyon to run without resorting to a two-vehicle shuttle, or worse, a commercial guide service. Santa Elena is certainly on my list, but it involves about 50 miles of shuttling, most of which is on paved highways. Boquillas Canyon is worse still. With Mariscal, however, I knew that I could shuttle by a 10-mile hike via Mariscal Canyon Trail or an 18-mile mountain bike ride via River Road East.
My good friend of 25 years agreed to accompany me, sparing me the possibility of having to do the trip solo. The plan was to take River Road East, drop off a bike at the take-out (Solis), drive to the put-in (Talley), camp for the night, float the canyon the next day, and shuttle back to the truck by bike. We left San Antonio at around 6 on Friday. We stopped at the Wal Mart in Uvalde to stock up on provisions (and again at the Wal Mart in Del Rio to pick up the things we forgot in Uvalde). We made good time and had an early lunch at "Cheli's" in Sanderson (the stone building on the South side of the road just West of the town "center"). The pizza at Cheli's was incredible. A couple hours later, we were at the Panther Junction ranger station getting our permits and stocking up on souveniers. A friendly ranger took our info for the river and back country permits and let us know we were the only ones floating Mariscal Canyon the next day.
We left the ranger station at about 3 p.m. As we began the descent toward Rio Grande Village, we watched the bars on our cel phones diminish to nothing, and then to the "no service" signal, which would be the case until we would round the bend near Panther Junction on our way back out. Several miles before Rio Grande Village, we veered off the paved road and began the treck down River Road East toward Solis. The road was rougher than I expected. Although it is periodically maintained, the road was partially washed out as it traversed the numerous washes leading to the River. After 15 miles of washboards and ruts, we turned off RRE on the road toward Solis. A few minutes later the creosote and cedar desert vegetation abruptly ended toward a wall of tall cane, signaling that we had reached the river. We made sure to get a good look at the take-out, as missing the landing would mean an extra 20 miles of paddling to reach RGV. On the bank we were treated to these tracks, which my friend Clint identified as belonging to a mountain lion.
While scouting for a place to stash and lock the MTBs, we came across a dried, cracked mud field, evidence of how high the water had risen (and deposited silt) during the 2008 flood (we later saw bundles of cane high in the rocks along the canyon wall, and learned from the ranger that the river had risen to 36', some 31' above its current level). The intense sun had baked the mud and had caused it to shrink and and reveal gaping crevasses, evidence of just how extreme the weather can be in this region.
We locked the bikes, as best we could, to one of the few stout salt cedar trees just outside the cane and began the 18 mile drive toward Talley, where we would camp for the night. Once we got back onto RRE and began climbing out of the river valley, incredible views of the Chisos Mountains opened up.
On the way to Talley, we stopped and explored Mariscal Mine, which is worthy of a post all on its own. The rusting body of an old Model A sits at the trailhead, serving as a sober reminder of how many people left their possessions, not to mention their hopes and dreams, out to rust in the desert when the fickle markets caused the mines to go bust.
The mine itself is very well preserved considering the hostile environment. A sign at the trailhead warns not to handle the bricks as they are laced with the mercury ("quicksilver") the miners were attempting to extract from the rocks here.
The most interesting features of the mines are the several shafts, covered with metal grates, that are found in the area. You can stand on top of a grate above a vertical shaft that literally disappears into darkness. Looking down into these shafts, I developed a whole new respect for miners, especially the men who toiled away in these shafts, before modern technology and safety standards.
Peering down a mineshaft:
Daylight began to fade, so we drove the last few miles to the Talley put-in to get a view of the river. The last 4 or 5 miles of the drive to Talley is on Talley Road, which is considerably rougher than River Road. We passed the parking area near the end of the road and plugged down the narrow track leading toward the river. This road obviously sees very little use, as it was hemmed in on both sides by dense vegetation. It was very narrow, which resulted in a number of scratches, or "Texas pin stripes" on the side of my truck.
We got a good look at the put-in and were a little distressed to see a john boat stored on the bank of the Mexican side of the river, which we gathered saw more use ferrying people and cargo than fishing.
Our campsite, Talley #2, was located about a mile back up Talley Road. This campsite is really nice. It's located on a small rise, which yields incredible views of the Chisos Mountains, Mariscal Mountain, the river, and even Santa Elena Canyon. Though the regulations can be frustrating at times, I believe the NPS has done a good job of spacing the primitive road-side campsites away from main roads and from other sites. One of my biggest complaints about Texas state parks is that, no matter how big they are, all the campsites are virtually stacked on top of each other. You get no sense whatsoever of any wilderness experience. Out here, we did not see a single soul, or even a light from a man-made structure, from our campsite.
Talley #2 Campsite:
For dinner, we grilled fajitas over mesquite charcoal in the portable BBQ pit I purchased in Uvalde. A bright, half moon rose over the river, so we doused the lantern and enjoyed a pleasant dinner and a few cold Tecates under the moon and stars. It was a crystal clear night, so we ditched tents and slept out under the stars.
We awoke to a beautiful sunrise that washed the Chisos Mountains in a beautiful, glowing pink light. Across the desert to the west, we could see the walls of Santa Elena Canyon reflecting the beautiful morning sun. After a hearty breakfast of sausage and egg breakfast tacos, we loaded up our gear and did the short mile-long drive to the Talley put-in. Beyond the parking area, with the menacing "Park Here. Leave No Valuables" sign, the road to the put-in is narrow and overgrown. The road used to go all the way to the river, but a huge chunk of it is washed out at a small bluff over the river, forcing you to execute a really tight turn-around. We unloaded the boats on the small bluff, returned the truck to the parking area, and walked back to the river. Walking down the steep bluff and through the mud was a bit of a challenge, but before we knew it we were pulling the boats into the river and beginning our trip.
The river was running high (around 800 cfs), so the current was swift and the river full of silt. We quickly made it through the lowlands before the canyon. Within minutes we encountered the first set of rapids near the mouth of the canyon and got our first taste of some class II rapids. After about a mile, we rounded a bend and were given the first view of the beautiful Mariscal Canyon. Pictures and words can never do sights like this justice. I was simply taken away by the majestic beauty of this place.
The entrance to Mariscan Canyon:
We entered the first narrow part of the canyon and quickly came upon the Rockpile Rapid. The route was obvious--go to the left and then make a hard right--and gave us no real problems. The sound of the water flowing around these massive boulders, echoing off the canyon walls, was incredible. The sheer walls, rising 1000' above the river, are almost claustorphobic.
Rockpile Rapid:
Minutes later we approached the Tight Squeeze and beached on the Mexican side to scout the rapid. The Tight Squeeze is situated in a beautiful section of the canyon, with nice inviting beaches on both sides. I would really like to return here and camp near this rapid.
Tight Squeeze:
We took turns running the rapid while the other filmed from the rock on the right of the rapid. As predicted, making the left-turn at the bottom of the drop was difficult, and we both ended up barely gliding over the infamous partially submerged boulder at the bottom.
The rest of the canyon was uneventful in terms of rapids, but the scenery was awesome. Each bend in the rapid revealed breathtaking view after breathtaking view. Fortunately, the view was unspoiled by the presence of other humans. We were treated to a rare glimpse of an Audad (big mountain goat) on the cliffs of the Mexican side.
With the swift current, we finished the float through the canyon in under three hours, which we both agreed was too fast. The transition from the deep canyon to the open desert was abrupt. Immediately after exiting the canyon, we were in a broad, open valley with high mountains on the Mexican side. The landscape was barren, except for the dense cane patches on the bank, but beautiful in its own way. We stopped for lunch on a gravel bar on the Texas side.
Upon studying the map, we realized we were only a mile from the take-out at Solis. We floated the last mile at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights and sounds of this beautiful river. We were thankful that we had placed a marker (a dead shrub) on the sandbar at the Solis take-out, because it would have been all too easy to float past the take-out.
We were relieved to find the bikes stashed safely where we had left them. By the time we pulled the boats out of the water, and I got changed into my cycling shorts, it was about 1:20, and I knew it would be at least 2 hours by the time I made it back to Solis in the truck. Clint decided to hang back at Solis and help get rid of our excess beers, so it was going to be a solo ride for the 18 miles back to Solis. I was prepared for the worst and was equipped with slimed tires, spare tubes, a chain tool, nearly a gallon of water, and even a lighter in case I had to start a fire.
The ride was incredible. The temperature was a perfect 85 degrees, and the skies were clear which gave me incredibly clear views of the Chisos as I toiled along RRE. I could think of no better way to finish off such a great day of paddling.
I made good time to the "pass" over the tip of Mariscal Mountain even though it was a long gradual climb from the river. I was hoping that the ride down from the pass to Talley would be pretty fast as it was a long, gradual descent back down to the river. As I began the descent, however, the road surface became loose gravel which slowed my progress. The descent toward the Talley turn-off felt more difficult than the climb to Mariscal Mountain. Before I knew it, I was at the Talley turn-off, and the road deteriorated. The closer I got to the river, the looser the surface became, which made for slow riding. I came upon a Border Patrol truck heading the other way and stopped for a brief chat with the agents. They were friendly and asked if the truck parked at the trail head belonged to me. I was envious of these guys because driving along on the back roads of BBNP seemed like the ultimate dream job for me.
Near the end of the road, the little ridge on which the Talley #2 campsite is situated provided one last challenge to make the legs burn. I then reached the parking lot at Talley in exactly 1.5 hours after leaving Solis. By this time, I was hot and sweaty and was really glad we had left a few Tecates in the big cooler in the bed of my truck. I made the drive back to Solis in about 40 minutes, making the entire shuttle process take about 2 hrs, 10 minutes. Clint was waiting for me with two ice-cold Tecates in his hands.
At about 4:00 p.m., we finished loading up the boats and bikes and began the long trek home. We knew it was a 7-hour drive from the Park headquarters at Panther Junction to home, but a solid hour of dirt roads lay between us and the headquarters.
About half way down River Road East we heard the tell-tale loud hissing of a flat tire. We got out and literally watched the tire deflate before our eyes. A sharp rock had put a nice gash in the top of the tire. We did our best "Dukes of Hazzard" tire change and were back in business in just under ten minutes, though we were quite filthy from the dust of River Road.
We stopped back in the Park Headquarters to get a few more souveniers and were on HWY 385 toward Marathon by 5:20. We were treated to a gorgeous sunset over the mountains along 385 and HWY 90, which only served to cap an already excellent trip. Aided by good conversation, the miles flew by and we were in Del Rio before we knew it. After a quick stop at Whataburger, we pointed the rig East on HWY 90 and made the last 150-mile push to San Antonio. We rolled into town at around 1:00 a.m., both feeling tired but still on a high from the two incredible previous days.
In retrospect, this was one of those trips that I will remember for years to come. My buddy Clint was excellent company and the float down Mariscal Canyon was incredible. This trip only increased my appetite for more Big Bend adventures. I will return again.
Post Script:
Here is a video I put together of this trip:
