 |
| Headwaters of the San Marcos |
It was the 70's and we were living in Dallas. My younger brothers and sisters had been taking a SCUBA diving course through an outfit off of Harry Hines and for whatever reason I was not part of that. What I was part of was the subsequent trip and check out dive that took place in San Marcos, TX on the San Marcos River just below Aquarena Springs.
Now up to this point, we had been well travelled throughout the state having lived in West Texas, Houston, now Dallas, and a family place in Freestone County of East Texas. I had no idea what we were headed into going south on I-35 towards Austin. Texas Hill Country, never heard of it, didn't know it existed. It was the middle of February and we were leaving the Metroplex with its cold and dark overcast behind.
It is hard to describe the colors of green and blue that existed in the heart of the college town known as San Marcos. Here it was mid-February and the grass and trees were green with a clear running river of steel blue fast and broad through the heart of the town. The San Marcos runs out of artesian springs in what was then known as Aquarena Springs (home of Arnold the diving pig). The air was dry and cool and the water temp is a constant 72 degrees year round. Here it is in the middle of winter and steam was rising off the river!
Having been raised a natural born swimmer, I had no qualms throwing on the SCUBA gear and joining in with the rest of the divers. Words defy the ethereal beauty of a clear stream when you are part of that world. Looking up or down the river was like looking down a tunnel for the clarity was exceptional. The freshwater grass waved with the same motion of a wind-swept prairie of the Plains country. Fish of all varieties and crawdads the size of my hand played hide and seek in the flora of the river. I dove repeatedly, using tank after tank of air as I could not get enough of this incredible world previously unknown to me.
We finally came to the point where we had to go back home to points north. Something visceral had taken place in those waters. Sure I had swam in backyard pools, seashores, and lakes since I had been a child, but something had grasped my heart while I was in communion with the waters flowing from the earth in the Texas Hill Country.
To this day, I remember with clarity looking out the back window of Mom's LTD at the receding tree line of Bald Cypress that lined that clear stream. I knew without a doubt that I would be back, I would come back to the Hill Country and I would make it my home! This is just the first of many stories of the hidden treasures that are Texas swimmin' holes.
Now up to this point, we had been well travelled throughout the state having lived in West Texas, Houston, now Dallas, and a family place in Freestone County of East Texas. I had no idea what we were headed into going south on I-35 towards Austin. Texas Hill Country, never heard of it, didn't know it existed. It was the middle of February and we were leaving the Metroplex with its cold and dark overcast behind.
It is hard to describe the colors of green and blue that existed in the heart of the college town known as San Marcos. Here it was mid-February and the grass and trees were green with a clear running river of steel blue fast and broad through the heart of the town. The San Marcos runs out of artesian springs in what was then known as Aquarena Springs (home of Arnold the diving pig). The air was dry and cool and the water temp is a constant 72 degrees year round. Here it is in the middle of winter and steam was rising off the river!
Having been raised a natural born swimmer, I had no qualms throwing on the SCUBA gear and joining in with the rest of the divers. Words defy the ethereal beauty of a clear stream when you are part of that world. Looking up or down the river was like looking down a tunnel for the clarity was exceptional. The freshwater grass waved with the same motion of a wind-swept prairie of the Plains country. Fish of all varieties and crawdads the size of my hand played hide and seek in the flora of the river. I dove repeatedly, using tank after tank of air as I could not get enough of this incredible world previously unknown to me.
We finally came to the point where we had to go back home to points north. Something visceral had taken place in those waters. Sure I had swam in backyard pools, seashores, and lakes since I had been a child, but something had grasped my heart while I was in communion with the waters flowing from the earth in the Texas Hill Country.
To this day, I remember with clarity looking out the back window of Mom's LTD at the receding tree line of Bald Cypress that lined that clear stream. I knew without a doubt that I would be back, I would come back to the Hill Country and I would make it my home! This is just the first of many stories of the hidden treasures that are Texas swimmin' holes.
It's interesting how the same trip can evoke totally different memories. That was my check-out dive and I almost committed fratracide with my sister, Liz, who was my diving Clear as the San Marcos river was, it was also full of river weeds. She swam with her arms sweeping widely in an arc to move the weeds - and kept ripping my regulator out of my mouth in the process. After the 3rd time I hauled her up to the surface and told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to swim with the fishes of San Marcos if she didn't stop pulling out my air supply.
ReplyDelete