Pedernales Falls State Park

The Journey

Today Pedernales Falls State Park is on our agenda. Michael is extremely curious to see what the locally heavy rains have done to the flow of the river and the falls. According to the LCRA River Flow information, it should be flowing 5 times normal today. Perhaps that means muddy water—no blue water photographs today. 🙁

We leave the house early enough to explore the park for a while before the Texas temperatures begin their afternoon climb toward the 90’s. We race up RR 12 with the top down on our little red chariot one more time, turning left on expansive Hwy 290, continuing our forty-three-minute journey toward the wilds of Texas on the Pedernales River.

Turning right on RR 3232, we search for the B&B we stayed at long ago, during one of our annual bluebonnet jaunts from Fort Worth into the Texas Hills. Unfortunately for the public, it is no longer a B&B but is now a private residence.

We take a tiny jog when we reach Pedernales Falls Road to enter the park. After driving less than a mile, a sign states in no uncertain terms that if we do not have a reservation, we need to turn around. NOW. These days of Covid-19 are strange, indeed. Luckily, we made a reservation weeks ago.

Driving a few miles further down the winding road, we reach the park headquarters where a park ranger is nowhere in sight! However, another sign tells us to check the bulletin board for reservation confirmation and then to tape it to the inside of our car windshield.

A Scenic Overlook

Pedernales Falls State Park Scenic Overlook near Park Headquarters

We notice a sign for a scenic overlook across the way. A slanting trail beckons us forward. The walk takes us down a gently sloping graveled path that ends in a circular viewing area. The landscape is a familiar one—180 degrees of green Texas hills. Back in the car, continuing our drive to the park’s interior, I tell Michael that I think the view from the road is more expansive and impressive than the view from the scenic overlook. He doesn’t disagree.

Park Information

Formerly the Circle Bar Ranch, Pedernales Falls State Park was acquired by the state of Texas in 1970 and opened to the public in 1971. It is 5,212 acres of typical Edwards Plateau terrain—a.k.a. Texas Hill Country. It is a land of myriad springs, stony hills, and steep canyons riddled with caves, giant oaks, and annoying cedar trees.

The Pedernales River forms approximately three-quarters of the park’s northern border, and then it dips south for a while into the heart of the park, eventually winding its way east. Most of the park is only accessible by foot, horseback, or mountain bike on 26 miles of scenic trails from easy to challenging. Not all trails allow horses or are suitable for mountain bikes. The trails range in length from almost a half-mile to nearly nine miles.

As we drive toward the Pedernales River State Park Trailhead, there are signs everywhere reminding park visitors that the land on the opposite side of the river is privately owned and that no swimming is allowed in this part of the river. Arriving at the trailhead parking lot, Michael edges our car into a space by the entrance to the trail. We grab our walking sticks from the trunk of the Mustang and begin today’s adventure.

A Hike to Pedernales Falls

Trail to Pedernales Falls at Pedernales Falls State Park

The path is graveled, wide enough for a vehicle, and once again gently sloping. We saunter, not hike, with our walking sticks held high off the ground as we make our way toward the river. Soon the descent steepens, and the gravel path turns to stone steps, eventually leading to a protected overlook with seating—where two young lovebirds have taken up residence.

We continue on our downward path till Michael tells me, “I want to go over there.”

Pedernales Falls at Pedernales Falls State Park

He turns left among the rocks onto a no-trail path. Like a good wife, I follow him until we reach a point that looks beyond anything I want to attempt. I find a rock, sit, and start taking pictures, continually looking west for Michael’s form to appear on the rocky river bed.

He never appears, and I begin to worry because that is what I do. I even ask a young couple with children that have explored a tiny bit on the same path—but turned around much sooner than my errant husband—if they have seen a single male wanderer.

Looking West at Pedernales Falls

When their answer is, “No,” I begin to think I may need to leave my rocky seat and search for him myself, but I feel like that isn’t a good idea at all. Just then, I see a European styled cap bobbing and weaving through the brush above. My heart lightens. Michael joins me on my rock, and we watch a goat, balanced on the side of a ledge on the other side of the river, adeptly make his way down the steep path to join his two friends resting under the shade of a lone tree by the water’s edge. Individuals, more intrepid than me (but not Michael), explore the rocky landscape below.

Pedernales River at Pedernales Falls State Park

Forging Our Own Trail

When Michael can sit no longer, he turns to me and says, “Let’s go down there.”

I learn to scramble and ramble and cling during my inelegant descent until finally, we are on the sandy beach. Michael and I have been here before—several times, at many stages during our life together. I know my future and take a deep breath. We walk along the sandy edge of the river looking for an alternate way up—not the relatively easy way up that is behind us, but another set of stairs. They are here. Somewhere. Michael assures me of this.

Putting my faith and my life in his hands, I follow, pulling myself up over tall rocks to find a narrow trail that looks like it is better suited to the goats across the river than an aging female. We climb and scramble and pick and hoist and cling and sweat, breathing hard until eventually, we arrive at the elusive second set of stairs. When we reach the overlook, we sit and rest—the love birds gone.

While enjoying the view, I look at my explorer husband and say, “Your problem is that you think you are still twenty-six years old.”

He doesn’t think this is a problem, so it does not surprise me when he replies, “And you think you are 101.”

I think we are closer to my 101 than his 26—such different points of view. We do agree, however, that we are both hungry. So, once we are back in the car, with the air conditioner roaring, we head to the picnic area and lunch.

A Pedernales Picnic

Picnic Area at Pedernales Falls State Park

Upon pulling into the parking lot, we notice several tables close to the road. I choose one that is somewhat distant, but not too far away from where we park the car, it is adjacent to a field of wildflowers, while a stand of trees provide welcome shade. Michael wheels our insulated picnic carrier to the table, and I begin setting out our small feast.

Lunch is a combination of Mother Nature’s offerings, both cooked and raw. Crunchy orange carrot sticks are a foil for Japanese-inspired deviled eggs, which are a perfect accompaniment for the Chinese-style pulled pork sliders made with sweet Hawaiian-style rolls. A soy-seasoned shredded red cabbage salad lightens the sliders, and Lay’s potato chips give me the salty crunch I want.

I almost forget to set out our spicy Wickle pickles, telling Michael they take the place of the fresh grilled pineapple recommended to accompany the pork. Sweet ripe cherries and crispy, pecan-laden, salted brown sugar cookies are the decadent indulgence that ends our humble feast.

The deviled eggs are an experiment and the star of the entire meal; they are full of umami flavor.

During the time it takes me to assemble our picnic, and before we have finished our repast, a family of four arrive—lay out their picnic—eat and leave. Michael and I don’t believe in eating and running, so we finish all of the crumbs and linger, waiting for a large crow to fly down from his sheltered perch among the leaf-laden tree branches and sit still long enough for Michael to snap a picture.

The Rest of the Picnic Area

While waiting for our shy feathered friend to come into view, I survey my surroundings to the field beyond. Wildflowers are intermixed with the native grass, and there are numerous picnic tables dotted here and there, hidden between stands of trees. And I thought there were only these few tables that we could see from the road.

I file this information into my memory bank, hoping I’ll remember to remember.

A Mini Adventure to the Swimming Hole

Trail to the Swimming Hole at Pedernales Falls State Park

The temperature is rising, touching ninety and threatening to continue its climb, but we decide to go on one more walk, and check out the swimming hole. Once again, it is a trail of descent, starting as wide gravel, and continuing as narrow stone steps. When we reach a part of the path where we can see the water, we are barely halfway down. Since we don’t have swimsuits, the river does not draw us forward. The blistering Texas sun persuades us to return the way we came.

We stop and talk to a park ranger on our way to the top, he smiles and says he is getting too old for this park—almost all of the trails are 400 feet down to reach the end—which means of course—to return to the beginning, they are 400 feet up.

A young family follows us, the father carrying a small toddler. His comment when he reaches their car is, “Wow. That was quite a workout.”