My meteor sighting was on the wrong night: Friday the 19th, around 11:00 PM, as I was silently cursing the group of canoeists that had rolled in late and awakened the campground with all their gear clanging and talking. Looking in their direction, I watched a meteor come straight down the eastern sky, growing in size and intensity and taking on that unique greenish-blue that you see when an electrical transformer blows. Then it fragmented into several golden pieces that burned out almost immediately, plus one piece that kept streaking down for another couple of seconds. Probably my best meteor sighting ever.
I saw a post on a kayak fishing message board for someone to do a lower Colorado river trip with a father and his 11-year-old daughter. So I took my 9-year-old daughter, my Scupper Pro, and a couple of Pocos for the girls, and we went last weekend. Keith paddled a Cabo and looked like an old-time fur trapper with all the gear piled on it - or someone pushing a 16-foot red polyethylene shopping cart through Skid Row :) These are all plastic sit-on-tops from Ocean Kayak - we usually use them for saltwater fishing in Southern California.
We launched at Walters Camp south of Blythe and took two days to paddle to Picacho State Recreation Area north of Yuma. We paid someone to shuttle our cars from the put-in to the take-out. The weather was great - days about 80 and nights 40 to 50. Water temperature in the mid 60's. Not much wind until late on Sunday. Most of the trip runs through Federal wildlife refuge on both sides of the river, so boat speeds are restricted to 5 MPH, so not many yahoos are found in the area. In fact, we only saw about three motorized vessels each day. Other than the few powerboats and one group of canoes, we saw no other people for the entire two days. The shore is mostly continuous rushes and reed thickets, with an occasional small open beach. Lots of sandbars, either just above or just below the surface. One ski boat that was preparing to zoom past us without slowing went bump, bump, stop right next to us. All six passengers had to get out and push for a while. Very satisfying. The surrounding hills and cliffs are very dry and barren, even for a desert. The occasional cliff going straight into the water was interesting, but usually the terrain was small, rough hills and washes leading back from the shore. All the usual Technicolor shades of the desert. Long, long views to faraway spires and mountain ranges.
Walters Camp on Friday night was OK, but the late arrivals, including a couple of loudmouth goose hunters, made it hard to sleep. We ran into the hunters on Saturday morning, down the river, and they were still jerks. Our campground Saturday night was isolated, beautiful, and totally deserted except for us. Coyotes and burros called throughout the night, along with waterfowl. The cliff across the river from us made a handy echo chamber, allowing the girls and the dads to make goofy sounds and get instant feedback. Otherwise the surroundings were totally silent, a rare experience for me. Near-full moon added to the atmosphere. It was dark by 4:30, everyone was bunked down a little after 7:00, and we were up around 6:00.
I was struck by how powerful and massive the river was, even at this time of low water, yet how silent it was. In the moonlight it resembled a beautiful lake, although it was all heading toward Mexico at a fast cruising pace. The girls handled their little Pocos well, the fathers watched them carefully, and the river treated everyone gently.
We did some casual fishing, but hooked nothing. My daughter's lure was followed in once by something silver - striped bass? And a boater near Picacho had a fat largemouth on a stringer. Otherwise, no action. The surroundings looked tremendously fishy - tons of structure, all kinds of current from 5 knots to still, dropoffs, flats, fascinating backwater lakes. I'd like to come back again and give it a more serious try. All in all, a great trip, a fantastic change of pace.
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