Toyota Yaris – Texans Travel Life

The Man is a native Texan. He was born and raised in Houston. He relocated to Dallas in 1994. We have traveled I-45 between these two massive cities more times than I can count over the past twenty-five years, visiting and revisiting the people and places that shaped The Man’s past and forged his future. Embarrassingly, I don’t recall even once noticing that there was a State Park along the way, much less one as extraordinary as Huntsville State Park.

Being a native of Alabama the Beautiful, I adored the beautiful drive to and through the park’s colossal pine trees. That’s my happy place right there.

The Manling and I visited HSP in August 2018, unsure what to expect from a park that hadn’t managed to catch our attention over the course of two decades. What we discovered was an awesome park deep in the thick, towering pine trees of the Sam Houston National Forest. With a plethora of activities to choose and only six hours to spend, we quickly prioritized our line-up and began enjoying a leisurely summer afternoon around Lake Raven.

Knowing that The Manling’s primary love language is fishing, we headed for fishing spot numero uno – a pretty pier located between picturesque camping spots 154 and 157. While The Manling began reeling in fish after fish after fish, I spent some quality time with my iPhone attempting to capture the beauty of the place digitally.

Next, we explored the rest of the park from the inside of the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside), surprised to see so many tent campers enjoying the park deep in the throes of the hottest month of the year. August in Texas, dear reader, is akin to swimming in the lava pools of Mordor in Mount Doom. It’s hot as Hades. Did I mention the humidity? South Texas is famous for its heat AND its unbearable humidity. My mother-in-law, a native Houstonian, once told me that you have to have gills to breathe in Houston. It’s a thing. Look it up. And yet, there were families who had chosen to forsake the blessed comfort of air conditioning in order to make memories tent camping at HSP. I could drop the mic right there because that, amigo, says A LOT about the awesomeness of Huntsville State Park.

While exploring HSP from our sweet {air conditioned} seats in the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside), we discovered another fishing pier in the Coloneh Camping Area (between spots 78 and 82) and decided to pull over and drop a line in the water. Well, The Manling dropped a line. I grabbed my iPhone and continued my search for the perfect picture that would speak more than a thousand words to us both.

Here it is:

In the effort of full disclosure, I did not take that photo myself. Marsha did. Marsha was one of the many campers in the park that day, completely living la vida loca by camping in August with her hubs and three grandkiddos. Huntsville State Park, you see, is home to some of these bad boys and Marsha aimed to hook us with “front row seats” to see them up close, but not so up close that our own personal safety was at stake (a philosophy her dear husband did not share – story to follow, keep reading).

The Manling and I hunkered down on the pier, him with his rod and me with my iPhone, while we waited for one or more of the local ‘gators to make an appearance. Marsha gladly shared her experience (and the above photo) from the night before along with all the information she knew about alligators, including this little tidbit – the lines through the growth in the water hugging the shoreline and the pier were tracks made by the alligators as they entered and exited the water.

The Manling, Marsha’s husband, and two out of their three grandsons fished from the pier, catching hand-sized little fellas left and right. Marsha and I chatted. Time passed.

Marsha’s Man announced to the pier that he saw a ‘gator across the lake. Skeptical, The Manling and I shaded our eyes with our hands, squinted against the late afternoon glare off of the water, and slowly scanned the area that he indicated. We saw nothing. After surveying the area several times, I ventured to mention that I saw nothing, to which he responded, “That thing that looks like a log right there,” pointing exactly where I should look. Sure enough, we saw what looked like driftwood floating adjacent to the shoreline. Still somewhat skeptical that it was a bona fide alligator, The Manling and I took up “log watching” like it was an income-generating venture. And guess what. It WAS a bona fide alligator! (We were clued into this when a fish jumped out of the water and the “log” course-corrected to follow it. For about ten minutes.)

Assured by Marsha’s hubs that the thing would feed on the fish they were catching under the pier around 6pm, we not-so-patiently watched the clock, waiting for him to make his way across the lake to us so we could get a good look at him. By 6:30pm, he had disappeared altogether. Feeling slightly disappointed, we bid our new friends good-bye and headed to one last spot, a place that Marsha’s husband assured us he’d seen a 10-12 footer earlier in the day. After driving around for about fifteen minutes, unable to find the spot he had referenced, I unexpectedly got a text from Marsha that said the alligator had shown up! The Manling and I pointed the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside) back toward the pier and were rewarded with these up-close encounters with a 5-6 footer –

After the excitement wore off (for the alligator, not us), Marsha’s Man hopped on a scooter and escorted us to the place he’d seen the 10-12 footer earlier in the day. Stopped on the side of the road, Marsha’s Man crossed the road and ventured into the dense brush under the towering pine trees. Alone. Wearing flip flops.

After searching a few minutes, he found what he had been looking for… sitting utterly motionless in the water looking at him, only his head visible. And it was a ginormous head. Can you see it?

After several failed attempts to lure The Manling into the brush to get a closer look (This came out of my mouth: “That’s going to be a hard ‘no’ because I love him. And your family loves you, too, so I think it would probably be best for you to come back out here with us.”), he finally joined us back on the road. In his excitement, he commenced trying to convince us that approaching the alligator’s home – for we assume it was indeed it’s home since there was a camera box in the brush pointing at it – wouldn’t be too unsafe. He eventually understood the meaning of our “no’s” in all of its varying forms, bid us farewell, and we parted ways – him back to the pier, us back to I-45…and the safety of our own home.

Why We Love Huntsville State Park

Fishing. In our experience, it should be called “catching” at HSP. Go old school with worms.
Camping. Like I said, there were tent campers. In August. In 100+ degree weather. That speaks volumes.
Alligators. This could easily become classified as an obsession. Until this year, I had only seen alligators in the zoo or on the screen. It is insane to know they are around and that they aren’t out to get me. You know, like the snakes. Or the alligator on Lake Placid.
Towering Pines. Being a native of Alabama the Beautiful, ya girl loves her towering pines. This places is tall tree heaven. Bonus: Lots of shade, which lowers the oppressive summer temps.

Must-Do’s

Alligator Watch. Seriously! Go to the fishing pier. Take binoculars. Be patient. Better yet, ask Park Staff on your way in where the best place to spot an alligator is and follow their advice. (NOTE: The alligators are not tame. They are 100% wild. Keep your distance. Don’t be stupid.)
Fish. The fishing piers were perfect for catching hand-sized fish. We didn’t drop a line anywhere else, but I’m sure the Park Staff could give you good tips. Just ask them when you check into the park.
Camp. Beautiful, roomy camping spots. RV spots. Not your jam? How about a shelter with a/c? HSP has you covered, whatever your preference for camping.
Hike. Because of the allure of the alligators, we ran out of time to be able to hike. I imagine the trails would be gorgeous winding through such beautiful trees. Let me know if you have first-hand experience. I’d love to hear from you.

We’d love to hear about your experiences at Huntsville State Park! Please share your thoughts on this no-longer-overlooked state park in the comments.

*In all natural areas, you are a guest. Educate yourself on what lives in the areas before your visits, always talk to the Park Rangers upon arrival and take precautions so that your experiences end as positively as ours.

A couple of posts ago, I mentioned in passing about the “Tour of Texas Waterholes” that the fam did several summers ago. One of the waterholes we visited on that trip was the Devil’s Waterhole, which happens to be located inside Inks Lake State Park. During said trip, the fam focused exclusively on the waterhole all. day. long. At one point, we even rented a canoe to see the spectacle up close before we ventured a try ourselves.

I guess at this point I should confess that I am using the royal “we” here because I let my fear keep me from experiencing this particular Texas water hole with the fam on that particular visit. You see, there are two options for reaching the Devil’s Waterhole – by trail system or by free swimming across a tiny section of the lake. Years ago, hiking on the trails was not a thing that was going to happen because I love my dear family. Nope. God had given me a brain and I was going to use it – because snakes. What about the other route, you may be asking? Well, dear reader, the other route may not be as perilous as the one on dry ground – because snakes –, but it was an equal no-no to me at the time – because catfish. While The Manling is up for anything involving fish (including noodling!), I most assuredly am not. And neither is Kinder Frau. So the two of us staked claim on a rock in the water directly across from the Devil’s Waterhole and watched The Man and The Manling have all the fun. Until Kinder Frau decided to man up and swim across (at an Olympian’s pace, mind you, because of the fish sharing the water) and join the menfolk having all the fun. I admit that I felt embarrassed to be shown up by my baby, but hand-to-God, every single time I put my feet in the water to try to cool off, a dang catfish came up like I was feeding them my toes!! (Seriously, ILSP should host a fish fry or something because that lake is teeming with catfish!) So, I tried to buoy my self esteem the rest of the day with the fact that I was serving the family by taking photos of their adventure. It didn’t work, but I kept telling myself that anyway. And here are a few proofs –

God bless poor little Kinder Frau. She is making the most of that smile with the sun full in her sweet little face.

The Manling was fearless! He took full advantage of the underdeveloped part of the brain in youngun’s that seem to make the males feel invincible. He jumped from ALL the heights. Multiple times. On purpose.

Sweet Kinder Frau showed her Mama up like a courageous conquerer! Note that The Man is treading water, waiting for her to jump in so that she could basically boulder on him back out of the water. Catfish.

Long story short…I was photographer and chief cheerleader on our first trip to Inks Lake State Park. Missing out on participating at the Devil’s Waterhole on that trip is my biggest regret from that whole vacation.

Fast forward to early June 2018 and you can almost share my excitement to redeem that lost opportunity! For starters, I was a bona fide hiker now. On trails, man! Also, I don’t want to brag, but I had even hiked with a back pack once, so (at least in my eyes) I was was a recent inductee to the elite sub-category of a backpacker! With The Manling’s help, the plan was to conquer those aforementioned trails at Inks Lake State Park, face the trifecta of my fears at the Devil’s Waterhole (heights, fish, & snakes!), and then enjoy some relaxation while we basked in the glory of the day’s accomplishments by fishing in the lake. Like I said, that was the plan.

The way the plan actually unfolded was like this…Earlier in the day while we were logging miles in the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside), I very cooly, very casually, asked The Manling if he was excited to do the Devil’s Waterhole again, to which he replied that he wasn’t going to. I was all, What do you mean, man?! I can’t brave the water or the trail solo! You’ve GOT to do it! and he was all, Nah. Not without Dad. So my much-anticipated shot at redemption flew out the window as we drove those Hill Country back roads toward ILSP.

When we arrived mid-afternoon, we snapped our obligatory entry photos with the State Park sign and then headed into the HQ to hatch our plan of attack with the Park Staff. By this visit, I knew enough to help myself to both the Park Map & the Trails Map while The Manling took care of our entry into the park with his State Park Pass. I was terrifically relieved to see a heron as the chosen clip art for the trails map instead of the dreaded rattlesnake, and did a quick flip of both pages to make sure one wasn’t hiding on the flip sides. Satisfied, I asked the helpful Park Staff if they could recommend a good trail (or two) for The Manling and me to hike. After highlighting a couple of options (Park Staff are famously fond of highlighters!) on our map, I sought verification for my presumption regarding the clip art.

“So, I assume the chances of us coming across critters this time of day on the trails are slim?”

Oh, no! Not at all, I was told. Gulp.

I replied, “Really? Is there a chance we will see snakes? Like rattlesnakes?”

I’d say so, the helpful staffer answered. We have a LOT of rattlesnakes and I’d never tell someone they wouldn’t see one.

I stared, blankly, at the honest staffer before turning to The Manling and cooly commenting, “I’m kind of tired already. This heat. Sheesh! Wanna skip the hiking here?” to which he (thankfully!) replied, “Sure, Mom.” (His passion is fishing, so anything other than that is his generosity toward me. “It’s your trip, too, Mom.” Gotta love The Manling.)

Just to recap: Devil’s Waterhole was scrapped before we drove into the park. Now that we were inside the park, hiking was scrapped, too. That left fishing, reading and being – all of which are fantastic activities to do at ILSP. “We” had already done the Devil’s Waterhole before, and I’m a new backpacker, so fishing could be the new thing we did there that day. Still a win. Don’t judge.

Seriously? That is gorgeous, right? He’s fishing on a rock ledge under the water. Beautiful!

By this time, Mama was tired. The heat beat me and I stayed in the Tiny Toyota Tardis with the a/c blasting while The Manling dropped a line at a different spot.

Why We Love Inks Lake State Park

Devil’s Waterhole. Come on, the name alone intrigues you, doesn’t it? And Texas Waterholes are where it’s at when it’s 100* in the summer in Texas. I still regret never having taken the plunge. (Note: There are underwater hazards, so heed all warning signs regarding the Devil’s Waterhole and proceed with all caution.)
Park Staff. Not only were they honest with us regarding the possibility of coming across snakes, they were helpful in planning our time so that it would be enjoyable to us. This is a priceless service they provide, free of charge!
Fishing. The Park Staff highlighted 3 good fishing spots to try on our visit that day. The South Pier has a fantastic sign detailing what’s in the water, photos of real people who’ve caught certain fish at ILSP and even info on the type of bait they were using when they caught them. Super helpful!
Beautiful. It truly is beautiful at ILSP. Just look at the above photos, all taken either on my iPhone 4 or my iPhone 6 (not on a fancy-pants digital camera), and all of them are beautifully unfiltered.

Must Do’s

Devil’s Waterhole. At least go and watch. It’s quite the spectacle. If you’re braver than I, maybe consider participating. Maybe. (That said, caution is always recommended. We watched for at least an hour before they swam over there. Then they talked to others who’d already taken the plunge, and watched from a perch on the cliffs for an even longer while before venturing off the very lowest spot. Land where others are landing. There are underwater hazards, so proceed at your own risk. Don’t do this lightly.)
Fishing. We didn’t catch anything the day we were there, but we saw a great many under the clear water. They just weren’t eating what we were casting that day. Both piers are suppose to be great for fishing, but probably not during the heat of the day (which is when we were there).
Camping. One of the Park Staff called it “the Village” while we were talking with them in the HQ and that was about as apt a description as could be given. It would seem the whole of the park was for camping. It is a masterfully organized community of camp spots, shelters (with a/c!), and RV spots. And both times we have been, they have been used. At the time of this publication, there was a warning about reaching capacity on the State Park’s website; apparently they are so popular they have to sometimes turn people away!

We’d love to hear about your experiences at Inks Lake State Park! Please share your thoughts on this Texas Waterhole in the comments.

*In all natural areas, you are a guest. Educate yourself on what lives in the areas before your visits, always talk to the Park Rangers upon arrival and take precautions so that your experiences end as positively as ours.