Let me say, however, that when I left La Linda on the 16th of December, I left thinking I'd be able to make it down the Hot Springs if the water flow did not drop. I gambled on that one and lost. Passing Bourland Canyon on the 18th (I stayed two nights at the first camp and was treated to a visit by a wild cat which I'm assuming was a bobcat, but without a tail, and it did stay long enough for me to video it) I realized I had better turn around, but the problem in doing so was all those shallows I had already walked down, proved too much for me to be able to drag the loaded raft up against the current. My choice was either to abandon nearly 3 weeks of supplies or go back down river. I went down river.

Those shallows from about mile 14 to mile 19 were impossibly low. It was a circus, though fortunately only a one-man circus so I didn't have to watch anyone endure it. After Hot Springs, the flow increased both because of the inflow from all the springs in the area and more water coming down from El Paso. I actually ran both Madisons, though I did portage a few loads around each before I took the boat and about half the gear through.

For the first time in my life, I voluntarily stopped at John's Marina and even camped there because when I arrived I was in such bad shape physically that I thought it might be wise to wait for someone to show up and have that person phone Ted Thayer to come and pick me up rather than continuing to Langtry. I stayed two nights.

Below Dryden, the rapid where Zacate Canyon comes in on the Mexican side was probably best not to run but I tried anyway and found myself lodged for about 15 seconds on a rock in mid-channel which is normally far enough underwater that it doesn't even cause much of a wave. Other than that though, the floating was pretty good most of the way to Langtry, though the sandbars are a real problem again if there's wind and you can't read the river.

Six miles from Langtry there's a large rock bowl Texas side which is very difficult to access but worth the effort. I always camp there and this time I carried in enough wood for a two night camp. Or so I thought. The norther blew in after the first night. The access there is really steep and most of it is on slippery rock. If you have to go down to the river to draw water, the best thing to do is climb back in your raft and draw it from there. Since I was staying two nights, I decided to paddle out a landing into the vertical mudbank so I wouldn't have to step into my raft. Once I did that, I climbed out onto my makeshift landing, bent down to draw the water, and the landing promptly collapsed. No big deal, despite the cold, right?

Well, in my haste to climb out, I sliced my finger on river cane, and it took me a while (an understatement) to stop the bleeding. When I finally did that (thanks to lip balm and a Tia Maria tortilla warmer), I noticed I had done something to my knee, just a little pain at first, but by the end of that day, I could see I was going to have a larger problem.

I lie on that cold rock in camp all night unable to sleep as the knee swelled and the pain grew worse and worse.

I don't know if you've used that take-out in Langtry but it's a long carry up to the county road. Worse, due to the reforming of the river, the embankment there is at least 10 vertical feet so before you can even tie off your boat, you have to dig steps into the embankment. My raft weighs a 108 pounds so pulling it up out of the water to the flatter ground above is something which requires some engineering under the best of circumstances.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.

That morning after the fall, when the seemingly interminable night finally ended, I could not get up. I could not move my knee without considerable pain and I couldn't bend it no matter how much pain I was willing to endure. I'm not sure this is my worst L.C. nightmare come to pass, but it ranks. I figured maybe I'd just lie there for two or three days and I probably would have except that it was freezing, a full blown norther, the one from New Year's which no doubt you experienced over there in Houston.

I had a long talk with myself, and I'll spare you the details of that, but the end result was I decided I was going to learn to like pain.

It took me a full two hours just to load the boat. The unloading of it had taken me five minutes when I arrived two days before. It took me one excrutiating hour to get the boat and the gear out of the water at Langtry. Then I had to limp up that long trail and bluff seven trips, the last one, with the raft, on one leg. OUCH!

And this is likely not to surprise you but probably makes nearly everyone else, shake their head. It was a fabulous day.

As fate would have it, just as I arrived up to the gate with the seventh load, three guys appeared. One, Tony Zapata, had grown up in Langtry but long since moved to California. he was returning because he had bought a camcorder and he wanted to shoot video of that rock bowl across the river from the take-out, a place I sometimes camp, and we call it Mosquito Bowl
because it's often infested with them due to the fact that with any rise in the river water gets in there and then just sits for weeks.

Tony told me that a Mexican man used to walk all the way from Vera Cruz to Langtry once a year and one year he bought his wife who was pregnant, though perhaps they didn't know it when they struck out from Vera Cruz. When they reached the rock bowl, she went into labor, and he delivered twins, one stillborn, and one living. The man buried the stillborn right there but the other twin survived and is now in her 40's and living in Mexico City. So Tony was there to video the rock bowl to send it to the woman.

I confirmed the story with my friend Pete who has the last house on the road leading from town to the river. Thought you might want it for your book when you get around to doing that section of the river.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the article. As a P.S. here, I did some follow-up on the guy in the article and he did in fact reach Fort Stockton. He had told me the name of his boss so I looked him up and we had a delightful conversation not long after I made it back to Laredo.

Turns out Antonio was in such bad condition when he arrived that he couldn't stand up for three days and then couldn't put on any footwear for another three. This will make sense to you once you read the article.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Keith Bowden, the guy from Laredo.