The Frio

I can’t imagine spending my summer vacation anywhere else in the world than on the Frio River. The clear skies, sunny days, and cold waters keep my family and I, as well as thousands of other Texans, coming back year after year to the Frio.
The day begins with Mom yelling “Breakfast! Come and get it!” from downstairs of our country style cedar cabin located just 75 yards from the river. I walk down the spiral staircase where I join the line of hungry campers for some French toast and bacon. I eat my golden French toast with maple syrup on an old picnic table with names carved in the middle of hearts which sits directly in front of our cabin. My family is evenly dispersed in three identical cabins, side by side along with three travel trailers. Over fifty family members, four generations of the Adams’ attend the annual family vacation on the Frio. I sit there and remember the bonfire from the night before that still smolders with morning dew, and recall how clear the starry sky was. The hill country is entirely different from my hometown, and it’s a place that I don’t ever wants to leave!
I can see the guys down on the edge of the water casting out their rods and reels time and time again. The men started their day early to go down by the river and fish. Of course they walk back empty handed because my uncle has a strict “catch and release” rule on the Frio. No matter how large or small the fish, they are always returned safe and sound back into the swift water.
After I finish my delicious breakfast, I hurry inside to get my swim suit on for the first river run of the day. We load up a dozen rubber inner tubes in the back of a white Ford pick up truck and a red Hummer. The adults cram inside the cab of the trucks and the kids jump on back, hold on tight, and try not to burn their bums on the steaming hot metal of the beds of the trucks.
When we get to the low water crossing, about 2 miles from our cabins, we all jump out onto the warm, smooth river rocks just steps from the clear waters. I grab my tube and burn my arm from the scorching hot rubber. I dash towards the waters edge and dip my big toe into the ice burg-like freezing river. The river was up about 10 more inches from when I left it last summer! I can recall last year when the river was low. But like the Texas Country singer says, “that only means you go real slow, and you take the time to enjoy the finer things in life!” (Roger Creager, “Fun All Wrong”).
At that point, I look back and see my family. They are all so happy to be spending this priceless time together. I know we all share the love for the Frio and we each look forward to this time together each and every summer. The river has been bringing my family together for many decades. That is what makes the Frio river so beautiful.