On Friday the 13th we decided to tempt fate a little and break camp early. We left Lake Livingston and headed west toward the Frio River and Parkview Riverside RV Park near Concan, Texas. Traveling on Friday the 13th may sound like inviting trouble, but the road treated us well and everything worked out just fine, until the last few feet where we found the road literally covered by the Frio River. However, the water wasn’t very deep and Linda just drove the truck and trailer across it. By mid-afternoon we rolled into Parkview and claimed Site 10, a lovely little spot right along the river. Our plan for the next day was simple: launch the kayaks and explore one of the prettiest rivers in Texas Hill Country.
After arriving, the Trailer Queen did what she has now done dozens of times on this trip. She calmly slipped the truck into reverse and backed our trailer straight into the site as if she had been doing it her entire life. I mostly stayed out of the way and offered encouragement. She is getting impressively good at this whole trailer-backing business, which is fortunate because the campsites seem to be getting tighter while my competence as a spotter continues to decline. While the sites are a bit close together, the view of the river from site 10 is quite nice.
The drive from Livingston turned out to include an unexpected surprise. Just before La Grange, Texas we began passing miles of tents, barns, and temporary buildings filled with antiques, furniture, art, and just about every kind of collectible imaginable. What we were seeing was almost certainly the famous Round Top Antiques Show, one of the largest antique fairs in the country. During the spring and fall shows the quiet countryside between Round Top, Warrenton, and La Grange transforms into what feels like the longest flea market in the world, advertised as 11 miles long. Dealers and shoppers arrive from across the United States and even Europe, and for several weeks the rural highways are lined with tent cities filled with treasures. We only saw it from the road, but it went on for miles and miles.
We arrived at Parkview around 4:30 p.m., got settled, and then headed back out around six to see something a little unusual. Just a few minutes away is Frio Bat Cave, often called the Concan Bat Cave, home to a massive colony of Mexican free-tailed bats. In the spring and summer hundreds of thousands of bats emerge from the cave each evening to hunt insects across the Hill Country.
The viewing experience there is surprisingly personal. Instead of watching from a distant overlook, visitors sit fairly close to the cave entrance. As dusk approached we waited quietly with a small group of people. At first there was only silence and the faint rustling of wings deep inside the cave. Then the bats began to pour out—first in bursts and then in a steady swirling stream. Soon they were everywhere, spiraling overhead and darting out into the evening sky. At times they swooped so close we could hear the soft flutter of their wings passing through the air. It was slightly eerie and completely fascinating.
Saturday morning, March 14, started cool and clear. We waited for the temperature to climb a bit before launching our kayaks into the Frio River just below Garner State Park. The Frio is one of the gems of Texas Hill Country. Its name means “cold” in Spanish, which becomes immediately obvious the moment your feet touch the water. The river stays cool year-round thanks to springs that feed it through the limestone hills.
The stretch we paddled is part of the dammed section near Garner State Park, so the current moves slowly and the river spreads into wide, calm pools. The water has a faint green tint, but it is remarkably clear. In many places we could see straight to the rocky bottom. In fact, much of the river is shallow enough that you can wade across in water no deeper than your chest. Bald cypress trees leaned over the banks and limestone outcroppings rose above the water here and there.
We paddled upstream until the river gradually became too shallow and rocky to continue. That seemed like a good place to stop for lunch. We pulled the kayaks near a large rock, opened our sack lunches, and enjoyed the quiet of the river. A small school of fish—four to six inches long—gathered nearby, so we shared a few crumbs of Sun Chips with them. Within seconds the water began popping with little splashes as the fish surfaced to grab their unexpected snack.
After lunch we turned around and floated back downstream, passing two tiny rapids we had bumped through earlier. They were hardly more than playful ripples over the rocks, but they were still fun to run. Once we cleared the narrow sections the river widened again and the current slowed almost to a standstill. At that point the biggest challenge became the steady ten-mile-per-hour wind blowing directly in our faces. We had to paddle steadily just to keep moving downstream.
Eventually we reached the small dam below the park. We pulled up beside it, relaxed on our kayaks, and sat there on the edge for a few minutes watching the water spill over the concrete. Then we paddled the short distance back to the campground and hauled the kayaks out of the water.
The afternoon was far too pleasant to retreat indoors. We carried our camping chairs down to the river and planted them directly in the water where it was about eighteen inches deep. From there we sat with our feet in the cool current, enjoying the sunshine and watching the lively crowd floating and splashing along the river. Tubes drifted by, kids played in the shallows, and laughter echoed through the cypress trees. It felt like a perfect Texas Hill Country afternoon.
Later that evening we cleaned up and did something especially meaningful. Thanks to modern technology we were able to participate remotely in the baptism of one of our grandsons. Even though we were hundreds of miles away, we were able to watch and share in that special moment from our little trailer beside the Frio River. It was a wonderful way to end the day. Well, almost the end. We still had laundry to do. Life on the road still includes the occasional practical task.
Dinner that night was simple and classic camping fare. We built a fire in the provided fire pit, roasted hot dogs, and followed them with s’mores for dessert. There is something timeless about sitting around a fire in the cool evening air watching the flames dance while the stars slowly appear overhead.
Sunday morning began with a relaxed breakfast before we drove about forty minutes south to attend church with the Uvalde Ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The members there were warm and welcoming, and it was nice to worship together and participate in Sunday School even while traveling far from home.
After church we returned to the campground, ate lunch outside, and spent some time studying the scriptures together. By mid-afternoon the temperature had climbed into the low 90s, which made the river even more inviting. We put on our swimsuits, carried our lounge chairs back down to the water, and set them up right in the middle of the river where it was again about eighteen inches deep. I planted an umbrella in the gravel for shade, and we spent the afternoon lounging in the gentle current while the cool water flowed around our chairs.
It was one of those simple travel moments that turns out to be surprisingly memorable—sunshine, clear water, friendly conversations with nearby campers, and the quiet realization that we were sitting in the middle of a Texas river enjoying the beauty of the Lord’s creation.
That evening we returned to the trailer, watched a little television, and began preparing for the next leg of our journey. In the morning we will point the truck west again and continue toward the wide-open landscapes of Big Bend National Park.
| Nights | Total Nights | Miles | Total Miles |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3 | 378 | 354 | 33256 |