by Corey Leamon
There are great deals of lessons that come along with your first few kayaking trips. You are immediately thrown into tests of balance, dealing with obstructions and fellow travelers, or how to control your tracking and maneuvering. But there is a greater discovery in the mix, where we are provided the opportunity to learn about ourselves and what we choose to see in the world. The river is a lightly traveled road, and the second I drop into my sit-in, I am immersed.
Less than two months ago I moved from North Austin to New Braunfels for a job. With the abundance of river access in town, buying a kayak only seemed to make sense. After shopping around, I landed a Perception Swifty; the blue beauty is small enough to fit inside my apartment and not too heavy to carry alone. My first trip was on the Guadalupe. Near I-35, this section of the Guadalupe is like visiting a back alley.
Literally set underneath the interstate, it’s oddly quiet and peaceful; being on the water completely separated me from the auto-obsessed infrastructure above. Paddling down river, you find hidden gems along with the dirt. There are stories beyond those burdened by society’s attempt to coexist with nature. There was no evidence of big trucks or aluminum bullets, just the occasional leaping fish and the sound of my paddle. The views felt more like remnants of an old world: a lonely billboard towering above the trees, wide pillars holding up the highway and occasional piles of trash floating gently on the edges. After all, rivers are where everything converges in a natural cycle; the above ground meets below. I existed underneath society and the daily stress that comes with it. Bustling city sprawl was nowhere and everywhere at once. I was in the alley of my neighborhood, getting a glimpse of the dirty underbelly of New Braunfels.
A boat grants you access to a limited viewing picture show on people’s lives. The kayaker is a guest, gifted with intimate moments that drift by one by one. You may choose to simply be a quiet observer, or become part of the story. A couple of high school boys dig a hole for a retaining wall as their father looks on. Two neighbors join along their property line to have a drink and watch their kids play on the dock. An old dog climbs down thirty feet of stairs to sit in the water and get a break from triple digit temperatures.
A group of men practice life-saving techniques in the current. These are moments when our travels become intertwined with others’. How does their relationship with the water compare to ours, and how do they see us? My view is two feet above the water, and the group of snorkelers is two feet below.
A beginner might be fooled into believing that there is consistency on the water, when in reality, altering your path by a matter of a few feet will expose incredible details once unseen. I can only imagine the view two feet below, but I get glimpses as a Largemouth Bass slides past and the sunbathing Texas River Cooter dives underneath a floating tree trunk.
Kayaking provides a sort of intimacy with the river and all its ecosystems. You truly enter another world. There are entirely new sets of flora and fauna. Bald Cypress trees have magnificently large roots cascading into the water. Mysterious blooms cover the offshoot streams. Put your hand in the water – it’s surprisingly cool for how hot the air has been here in Central Texas. Notice the subtle variations in tone from one tree to the next.
Listen for birds and cicadas. A trip in a kayak is an opportunity to experience a completely unique method of transportation. Its speed, surroundings, destinations, and human interaction allow for an experience tailored to the water; you can’t get it anywhere else. Whenever the opportunity arises to hop on top or into that kayak, take the journey and discover something different about the earth, the people and the town each time. While you’re there, novice or not, don’t forget to get caught up in the details.
This lifelong Texan has a love of nature in all of its beauty and recently started kayaking as another way to enjoy its plentiful offerings. She currently works as a visual designer at Lake|Flato Architects and as a freelance photographer, with hopes to make ecological responsibility a part of her flourishing career. You can find her work here.