So far, in our journey along Barton Creek, we’ve visited Twin Falls and Sculpture Falls. Recently, The Bearded One and I visited the area on Barton Creek between Mopac and Gus Fruh Park, an area called South Gus Fruh.
The access point we used is off 360, just east of Mopac. Take your first left, and you’ll be in an office park with Greenbelt access. What a cool thing to have access to on your lunch break!
It’s sort of amazing in Austin, the way you can forget how things are when it’s dry, especially after a wet spring and early summer. Earlier this year, we were swimming in creeks and holes and lakes which had been dry during the drought, and we conveniently forgot that they’d eventually be that way again.
Last year, we’d hiked the Gus Fruh area, walking mostly in the middle of the creek bed, which was bone dry. When we went again recently, though, we assumed there would be water in the creek and we’d be able to go for a dip. I'm unhappy to report that the creek was dry...again. However, the hike is still a rewarding one, and there's still one watery surprise.
The trail is pretty easy here: wide and mostly packed dirt. In fact, I did it in water shoes because I incorrectly thought we were going for a short hike and a long swim. There is one trail for hiking and biking and another parallel trail for hiking only. The hike-only trail was pretty overgrown with weeds, so we ended up walking in the multi-use section of the trail.
We were on a search for an area marked on the Greenbelt map by an indicator for rapids, called Three Falls. We walked down. We saw the creek. We did not see water. We discussed the old adage (that we made up) that “for rapids to exist, one must have water.” We’re so wise.
Regardless of the absence of water, I remained optimistic that surely there must be still be a swimming hole somewhere, so we kept hiking, both on the trail and in the creekbed. I love hiking in the dry creek. The plants that can thrive in both wet and dry conditions fascinate me. I have mirage visions of a tidal wave sweeping under me and carrying me downstream in a refreshing whoosh.
That didn’t happen. We never found Three Falls - probably because, without water, it’s hard to tell where a “falls” would be. (Apparently this is what it looks like when it’s running). We reached the area where Gus Fruh Pool would be and then we turned around.
We started hiking back the way we came when we saw a trickle: the most beautiful, glorious, pristine trickle coming right down the side of the canyon and forming the most disgusting, bug-filled, algae-covered mosquito puddle that ever existed. We looked up, and the trickle kept looking back, so we followed it.
Although this little stream is indicated on the Greenbelt map, there is no name for it, and the trail that runs alongside it isn’t labeled either. The stream seems to be a spring, judging by the fact that it was the only water running and that it was cold (disclaimer: I’m not a scientist or even a spring expert). We followed it uphill for a while, never reaching the source, watching as it fell down over rocks, forming waterfalls that cascaded into wading pools. We sat in one of the pools and cooled our weary feet, splashing water on our arms and back.
It was a far cry from a rapid or even a small swimming hole, but it’s August in Texas. We take what we can get.
