Oyster Creek Trip Sharing a little canoeing story by John Rich

Sunday, October 15th, I dipped my new (used) canoe (Old Towne Discovery 15'8") into Oyster Creek, in Sugarland, Texas, to take it out for a trial run and determine if it is
seaworthy. I'm a novice canoeist, so I needed this easy paddle to gain some experience.

The recommended put-in site was from Cullinan Park, just north of the Sugarland Airport, down a dirt road. However, due to the extensive rainstorms the day before, this road was a mud bog, and even with 4-wheel-drive, I didn't want to try it. I hiked down the dirt path to see how far it was to the creek, and it was many hundreds of yards - way too far to portage an 80-lb. canoe and gear, alone.

So, I set out to find a good alternate put-in location, and settled on the Sugarland
Airport just on the other side of Oyster Creek. The north end had a large empty field
bordering the creek, and airports are public property, so no problem, right? (More on this later...) my put-in site.

Due to the rain, the water level was probably higher than normal, and the current faster
than normal. But I haven't observed this creek before, so I can't say how much higher from "normal". The forecast was for more rain, but I decided to do the paddle anyway, as I needed to test the boat, and refresh my rudimentary skills, for an upcoming Rio Grande trip. It rained plenty, but I saw no lightening. I was soaked, but it was a warm day, and I was not uncomfortable. A wide-brim hat helped. The creek varies from about 150-feet wide to 50-feet wide. The current flow was maybe 1 mph.

I paddled for three hours upstream, to the west. Due to the water flow, if you wanted to
rest, you had to pull over to the side, or the current would quickly take over and make
you lose ground.

The first section borders the Sugarland airport and Cullinan Park, and is a pretty
tree-lined area.
An old, low, wood bridge is encountered next, with a log-jam of junk and hyacinth piled up underneath it. You can squeeze through on the south side, with some pushing.

Following that area is the Texas prison farm, with dilapidated old farm buildings, and a
white water tower. I decided not to stop and rest here, so the guards in the watch tower
wouldn't think I was trying to break in. If someone in black and white striped clothes
comes running towards you, paddle away - fast!

There is a side creek which goes up to Pumpkin Lake, which I did not explore. Above
Pumpkin Lake, I would swear that the water flow slowed down a bit. My theory is that the large lake absorbs a lot of the rain that was falling, and all that water flows out into
the narrow creek, creating a Bernouilli Principle effect. But what do I know.

Next up was a high-end residential community on one side with creek-front homes. A few of the homes have fences made with iron bars so that the residents can see through from their picture windows and enjoy the water scene. But most have the standard Houston six-foot high solid cypress fence. Why pay extra for waterfront property, and then block off your view of the water? Go figure. It makes no sense to me.

The next landmark is the concrete FM1464 road bridge. Underneath are the mud nests of swallows, along with clusters of tiny little iridescent water bugs, which will jump off
into your boat and flounder around in the bottom, if you get too close. On the other side
of this bridge is a trailer park on the banks, and following that is the Houstonian Golf
Club, and some bulldozer land preparation for residential home construction. I thought it
would be fun to paddle past golfers, but they're not close to the water. This area is open
on both banks and is not very scenic.

At this point I was getting tired and bored, and turned around to go back. The next
landmark would have been the Grand Parkway Road 99 bridge, but I didn't get that far. On the way back, I did a lot of relaxing and drifting with the current, just dipping the
paddle enough to keep me in the center of the creek. I laid down in the bottom of the
boat, stretched my legs out, leaned back against the seat, and enjoyed the float.

Critters observed: Herons, small ones and big ones. Hawks. Egrets. Kingfisher! Ducks. I
love watching the ducks take off and the pattern of intermittent splashes they make on the water as they struggle to get airborne in front of you. Turtles. Fish would break the
surface, but not enough for me to identify what they were. Oh, and a snake. The snake was on a collision course with me, and I was torn between getting my camera out and taking emergency evasive action. Can a snake climb up the sides of a canoe? I went for the camera, and fortunately, the snake spied me, and turned and went the other way.

Throughout the entire paddle, you are never far from the sounds of planes, trains and
automobiles.

Even being lazy, it took only two hours to return to the put-in site, with the water flow
favoring me.

The boat was sound, and an old patch on the bottom did not leak. I practiced dodging logs, overhanging limbs, and giant spiders on webs strung across the creek. I reacquainted myself with the various strokes, like the sweep, the pry, the draw and the J-stroke. I could make myself go in a straight line with no problem while paddling on the right, but for some reason i had great difficulty doing that on the left. Hmmm... So I feel she and I are ready for Big Bend next week. At least until the first time I'm rushing towards a giant boulder at 20 mph in whitewater, and then all bets are off. Ack!

Lessons Learned:

1) Don't casually lay your paddle across the gunwales (sides), as it will slip off into
the water faster than you can say "oh heck!" I didn't go for the spare paddle, but instead
just hand-paddled back to the floating rascal. After that, I laid the paddle across my
lap, and kept a forearm on top of it.

2) You can get sun-burned on an overcast day in the rain. And you can get poison ivy rash even though you never hiked in the woods.

3) I got a good taste of what the wind can do to a canoe. About 100 yards from my
take-out, the wind kicked up to about 25 mph. It kept blowing me sideways into the far
riverbank, and it took a lot of effort to stay in the middle of the creek. Wow. I was glad
I was near my take-out, and not in the middle of a large lake, downwind from where I
needed to be.

4) Oh, and remember how I promised to comment again about the airport put-in location? Well, it turns out that there is some kind of directional antenna that pilots use to find the end of the runway, and the presence of my truck parked in that area was throwing off the readings a bit, causing pilot complaints. Ack! I found this out when, as I was pulling my canoe out of the creek, an airport truck pulled up and a man told me this info. He was very nice about it, and didn't make a big deal of it, but I felt bad. I could not have imagined that simply parking your truck in a field could cause such a problem. There were no fences or warning signs to protect against this problem I felt lucky that my truck wasn't towed away to resolve the issue for pilot safety.

- John Rich