I have to admit, ever since my canoe trip down the Rio Grande back in 1990 I have been scared to get in a river in spring time, especially in a canoe, especially with someone else who doesn't have much experience. My friend almost died in 1990 as we shot through the "tight squeeze" in Big Bend. I think the trip was also scary because the Park Ranger said we were the only two tourists registered on the 25 mile section of the river. He really emphasized to us to be safe. Within 10 minutes of his departure we had flipped the canoe, lost the map and compass, lost our burner, most of our food, and other than a couple of big black garbage bags that floated with clothes and light snacks, we started a long trip with nothing but my tube of waterproof matches.

I don't have any photos of this trip. My friend was Barry Wernick and he is now an actor in LA. Everything worked out ok, but I will digress to tell one quick funny story.

The Park Ranger said, "No Open Fires." Well, after floating our way through the first canyon (on the outside of the canoe), we came to a large sand bar that was full of brush. I thought to myself, "Perfect, I am going to start a fire. The Border Patrol or Park Rangers will see the fire. They will come to arrest us. We will be saved. I don't care what else happens." You have to remember the desert gets cold at night. We did have our tent tied to the frame of the canoe with our sleeping bags but they were all wet. I was very concerned that Barry would get hypothermia from being hurt, wet, cold, and little food.

Being an Eagle Scout, and very thankful that many of my Scout Leaders were former Military, and considering that I spent 11 years living in Norway and Scotland, I was aware of the danger of cold and also aware that I had nothing but my old scottish water proof matches to provide warmth.

When I say I started a fire, I don't mean a little cooking fire. I mean I lit the entire sand bar on fire. I haven't seen a bigger bonfire since watching my Grandfather burn brush piles in East Texas. I am literally talking about 30 foot flames. The brush burned ferociously. I am sure people 20 miles deep into Mexico could see the flames. We waited for the sounds of sirens, maybe a helicopter, we were sure that a fire this big on the US border would get us arrested. We couldn't wait to be arrested (saved in our mind). The fire was so hot we decided to set up our tent anyway and lay out our bags. It burned for hours. Our tent dried. Our bags started to dry. I cooked a can of soup. Every bug in the desert came to visit the light of the fire. I remember giving up trying to swat moths away and they just got stirred up in our Mushroom Soup. We ate one of our few cans of soup.

No one ever came.

We ended up spending three days on the Rio Grande. We slowily learned to work together to canoe down the river. We spent most of our time floating beside the canoe (after rolling it) but we put our sleeping bags inside the garbage bags and they didn't get very wet.

We rationed our snacks. I forget what we did for water. I don't see Barry much now that he is in LA, but when I do, the story always comes up of how we made it down the Rio Grande as two stupid kids on college spring break.

THE POINT OF THE ABOVE STORY WAS TO SET THE STAGE FOR HOW NERVOUS I WAS WHEN MY FRIENDS JASON & MICHAEL & JOSH INVITED ME ON THIS TRIP DOWN DEVIL'S RIVER. Just the name of the River made we want to say, "NO Way!". But they told me how beautiful and safe it was and being almost 15 years later I thought it was time to give Texas Rivers and Canoes a second chance. I am glad I did. We had a great time camping, canoeing, fishing, and sitting around a camp fire with friends.

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