Little river, big fun

[Texas has scores of great streams; great paddling, great wildlife viewing, great fishing. The San Saba River in Menard Co. is one of my favorites. This story first appeared in the July 2006 issue of Texas Outdoors Journal.]

When I heard the “whoop!” I knew something big had happened. I picked-up my pace and paddled for the bend in the river.

Rooster shouted again, and as I came into view he swung a fish into the air. A big fish.

“I was targeting the shady area near the bank around the lily pads, and I saw a submerged tree on one side and tried it out,” he said. “As soon as the bait hit the water the big girl took it.”

When you meet someone with only one name, you figure he’s either already famous or about to be. Rayford “Rooster” Sells (it wasn’t until my third fishing trip with him that I learned his real name) falls into the latter category, I think. For a former bay rat from the shores of Copano and self-professed catfishin’ man, he’s heck on bass.

This one came in at 20 inches and tipped the scales at four pounds, a lunker by stream standards and a solid fish anywhere. And it’s about half the size of some of the bass that anglers here say they land on a fairly regular basis.

The San Saba River, a 100-mile-long tributary of the Colorado that winds along the northern edge of the Edwards Plateau, is a fantastic bass stream. It’s one of a dwindling handful of Hill Country rivers with pure-strain Guadalupes. They like the edges of the fast water, while the big bucketmouths lurk in the lily pads and deep pools.

“The best bass go about 8 pounds. There are lots of 3-4 pound fish, and there’s a decent number of fives and sixes,” said Menard Mayor Johnny Brown. Brown, an avid paddler and angler, has been fishing the San Saba for about two decades.

On a recent trip, Brown and three companions boated about 30 fish on a five-mile stretch of river.

“Usually I’m fishing for big ones, so if I catch half a dozen I’m doing good,” he said. “We had a half dozen that would go five pounds.”

Stream fishing, for me, has always been a numbers game. The Hill Country’s incredibly productive rivers have schooled me to expect a strike on every other cast. On the San Saba, I’ve also come to expect high numbers on a hand-held scale, too.

Here’s the secret: I hate to say it, but size does matter.

“My brother-in-law is going to kill me for saying this, but I take just what I would when I fish Amistad or anywhere else,” Brown said. “I fish with a 6-inch plastic worm, sometimes a 10-and-a-half inch plastic worm.”

That’s if you’re going after big fish.

“If you want to just have fun on this river, take an ultra-light,” Brown said. “Use a little inline spinner and you’ll catch Guadalupes and big bluegills in moving water.”

On three recent trips to the San Saba at Menard, I caught most of my fish on a Bass Assassin 2-inch curly-tail shad imitation or a small topwater popper. I also found Brown’s analysis to be correct. Although the odd 19- or 20-inch fish fell to the small soft plastic, Zoom lizards consistently produced bigger fish.

While fishing is the main attraction here, it’s just part of what makes this little river such big fun.

Another is that the stream is so … well, unlikely. There are no grand vistas over deep river valleys, as in Kerrville or Junction. No “water recreation area” signs or theme parks or tube rentals.

In fact, the river is so neatly tucked away between the low hills, you could drive right past it without knowing it’s there. I like to think of it as God’s doodle.

It’s as if – occupied with some more important but not very demanding act of creation – He allowed His finger to rest here, at what would one day be the Schleicher-Menard County line.

Clear, sweet water gushed from the ground, and green blossomed on the sere landscape at the northern edge of the Edward’s Plateau. Intrigued, He drew the line out. He traced elegant curves, lightly twining braids of water over limestone. And everywhere the river went, the green followed.

Like any river in a semi-arid land, the San Saba at the edge of the Texas Hill Country is the giver of life and the arbiter of fortunes.

The Spanish settled here midway through the 18th century, hoping for riches both spiritual and temporal. Their success on both counts apparently was limited.

In 1758, Commanches burned Mission Santa Cruz de San Saba, despite the presence of a nearby fort. Soldiers and priests alike abandoned the area for good in 1770. The fort, Presido San Luis de las Amarillas, became a popular camping spot for Indians and the occasional adventurer searching for the still-lost San Saba mine.

The ruins of the old presidio still brood on the western bank of the river above town.

After the Civil War, buffalo soldiers from Fort McKavett, at the headwaters of the San Saba, pushed the frontier back and made the land along the stream safe for pioneers from more settled regions.

The river must have seemed to them an oasis in this near-desert. It at least made life here possible. The newcomers would harness the river, slaking their thirsty fields and livestock with its waters.

Their descendents today treasure the stream for the same reason, and use it much the same way.

“Typically the water levels are high until people start irrigating about mid-May,” said Brent Frazier, owner of San Saba River Adventures. “Even then, trips are still possible in the western part of the county. During the fall, the water level rises when people stop irrigating crops and the river runs good all winter.”

Frazier’s favorite river segment is from the Bois d’Arc road crossing about eight miles west of town.

“Cow lilies and other vegetation provide good bass habitat, and it’s a stretch anyone can paddle,” Frazier said.

Wildlife viewing also can be quite good.

“We see whitetails, turkey, armadillos, beavers, nutria and a wide variety of birds,” he said. “On that segment you’ll pass under a heron rookery and right past a black vulture roost.”

“There’s a lot of uncharted water on this river,” Brown seconded. “The crossings are a long ways apart. It’s a pretty wild river in places and you’re liable to see anything.”

Anything but another angler. It’s unusual to see anyone on the San Saba River, and unheard of to run into more than a couple other paddlers on a day-long trip. It’s just a little too far off the beaten path, a little too little, to have caught kayakers’ attention.

That’s changing, though, since Frazier opened his business a little more than a year ago. The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department is considering designating a portion of the stream near Menard a Texas Paddling Trail, and buzz on Internet message boards has already inspired more than a couple of kayak anglers to make the trek to Menard.

Brown said he welcomes the company.

“Here’s the thing about kayak fishermen,” he said. “Ninety-nine percent of them aren’t going to remove a fish. They’ll take a picture and put it right back where they caught it.”

Besides, he said: “If the fish get a little shy, I’ll just work a little harder.”

If you go ...

Menard can be found about half-way between Eden and Junction, near the very center of Texas. U.S. Hwys 83 and 190 run through town, as does State Hwy. 29. Brent Frazier at San Saba River Adventures offers guided fishing trips for $150/person for a full-day trip, $25 each additional paddler. He rents boats from his stable of a dozen Wilderness Systems Tarpon 120s and Tarpon 140s for $25/day. Shuttle service anywhere in Menard County is $20.

Menard has three mid-range motels in town – two advertise free wireless internet service. For a real treat (and even more fishing), try Hat Creek Cabins, just east of town. Rates for two-bedroom cabins on this ranch start at $120. Be sure to try the Sideoats Bakery & Café, on the main drag in Menard. Sideoats offers delicious, homemade food and truly stellar coffee at reasonable prices until 8 p.m. each day.

[A note about the photos: Rooster with his big bass; a Guadalupe bass that fell to a beadhead wooly bugger fly; a Bald cypress growing alongside the San Saba; Rooster running the falls between 8-mile and town; Brent works a slow stretch of river.]