Chapter 4: Lampasas River
Easy wading in a scenic rural setting; good populations of bass, carp, channel catfish, and freshwater drum; some huge and aggressive green sunfish; genetically pure Guadalupe bass in some sections; big enough to fish with a group of friends.
Access points: 6
The Lampasas River is one of several major tributaries of the mighty Brazos River that we will visit in these pages. The upper sections of the river lie just outside my self-imposed, roughly 60-mile radius from Auditorium Shores in downtown Austin, but it’s still an easy hour-and-a-half drive. I keep coming back to it for a couple of reasons: It’s a beautiful and diverse fishery, and the river is almost entirely passed over by all but a handful of dedicated local anglers and consequently receives very little fishing pressure.
The stream rises about 16 miles west of Hamilton and flows mostly southeast more than 100 river miles to its confluence with the Leon River, where—along with the San Gabriel—it becomes the Little River. Fed by springs and creeks, the Lampasas is clear but slow over the course of its upper and middle reaches, with a much more gradual drop than streams originating farther south in the Edwards Plateau. That low gradient means that fine silt and sediment from the surrounding sandy loam-and-clay agricultural lands can remain suspended for long minutes or even hours when a pool is disturbed. A school of carp or catfish, a herd of feral hogs, or a wading fisherman can muddy one pool while the pools above and below remain crystal clear.
“Our tradition is that of the first man who sneaked away to the creek when the tribe did not really need fish.”
The river likely takes its name from the town of Lampazos de Naranjo in the Mexican state of Nuevo León and was known to Spanish explorers at least as early as 1721. Or it may be named for a plant similar to the “elephant ears,” or lampazos, for which the Mexican town is named. Our local “elephant ears” are actually taro, an Asian transplant that has naturalized in Texas and grows profusely along the river.
Wherever the name comes from, a community dating to the 1850s adopted it and quickly became a center for area ranchers and other settlers. Later in the nineteenth century, tourists flocked to the mineral springs that rise here. Today, Lampasas is a bustling town of about 8,000 souls. It’s a terrific base for exploring the area’s rivers.
There is one impoundment on the river, Stillhouse Hollow Lake, well downstream about 5 miles southwest of Belton, and many road crossings along the upper and middle reaches. We will take a close look at two sections of stream that offer good access and reliable fishing.
A friend turned me on to this reach of river a couple of years ago, and it quickly became a favorite. I have run into other anglers there just once: a couple of good old boys who had been catfishing with gear, scrambling up the bank after an encounter with a herd of wild hogs. I continued on and had a lovely day on the unpeopled stream. Most of my favorite fishing spots give at least the illusion of rural seclusion. This section of the upper Lampasas truly is in the boonies.
On one trip I was perplexed by the sound of large projectiles crashing into the river behind me. I couldn’t imagine who would be hiding just over the high bank, or why they would be throwing things at me, and I was getting a little worried. Then I realized that what I was hearing, but wasn’t quite quick enough to see, was a bur oak shedding its golf ball-sized acorns into the river. It’s that kind of lonesome out here.
What You Will Find
From the parking area alongside FM 1690, a well-defined trail disappears around the steel traffic barrier and continues under the bottomland canopy and beneath the bridge before plunging down the bank on the upstream side. Some kind soul—his name rhymes with Chris Leslie—has installed a heavy-duty strap-and-rope climbing aid here. You won’t need it unless the path or your shoes are wet, and then you’ll quietly murmur, “Thanks, Chris!”
The portion of the pool beneath the bridge is a jumble of cobbles and boulders, but the water is knee-deep or less during normal flows. Whether fishing upstream or downstream, you can head straight across here and then proceed on the far bank if you wish; this far bank is technically the south bank of the river, though it lies more westerly here.
Native green sunfish, some reaching near state-record size, are common on the upper Lampasas.
Remote, No Pressure (Wading Upstream from the Bridge)
Let’s head upstream first, starting with the pool that ends beneath the bridge. This pool is wadeable river left (your right as you head upstream) or may be fished from the limestone boulders on the other side. The deepest section of the pool lies against these rocks, which provide fish-sheltering overhangs. There are big bass, channel cats, and carp in this pool, as well as bluegill, longear, and green sunfish. A pretty, low falls marks the top of the pool; from there it’s a stroll across a corrugated limestone-and-gravel sill.
The next pool is a long one, and deep. Approach with care and probe the tail of the pool; the limestone sill here is deeply undercut and holds fish. Continuing upstream, wade the shallows in the sand and gravel along the south bank. The deeper channel river left (your right), with its heavy vegetation and steep bank, looks like the sure bet, but bass also cruise the drop-off just ahead of you. Bass here don’t go far when spooked, and once they realize they’re not being pursued by a predator, they seem happy to stop and consider whatever fly you drop in front of them.
One afternoon, I watched a series of slashing rises below an overhanging sycamore on that north bank, thinking I was seeing a bass feeding on drifting damselflies. It wasn’t until I hooked up and brought the fish to hand that I realized it was a slab of a green sunfish, just an inch shy of the state fly fishing record. There are a lot of big greens in the river. They are aggressive feeders and a ton of fun on a light rod.
Native longear sunfish compete for the opportunity to have their photos taken on the Lampasas.
At the head of this pool, the river bends due west. Wade the deeper water up the middle and then cross over to the gravel bank river left before the stream curves back to the northwest. There’s a jumble of boulders—a very fishy spot—on the far bank, river right. From here it’s about 750 feet upstream over a corrugated limestone-and-gravel bottom to the next sill. During normal flows the water is knee- to thigh-deep; wade straight up the middle or to the right as you head upstream.
It’s more of the same until, about 300 yards beyond the riffle that marks the top of the previous pool, you’ll see a stand of flood-ravaged sycamores river right. There are a couple of nice, deep holes below the trees. Above this spot, the river shallows again, and you’ll find the braided channel against the west bank. The slightly deeper pools in the sweeping channel bend here hold large numbers of longear sunfish. For some reason, the longears here retain their jewellike spawning colors much later in the year than the same species in waters farther south.
At the end of the bend, you may have to wade across the channel several times to follow the shifting gravel bars. Make your way to a spot on the east side (river left) so you can cast to the deeper water below the undercut bank river right. This is prime largemouth habitat and a great place to throw hair bugs, mice, big hoppers, or crawfish patterns.
Just ahead is a large gravel bar on the east side, where the neighboring farmer stores his canoe. As the gravel bank peters out, at about 1.25 miles from the FM 1690 bridge, you will see a beautiful, deep pocket across the river and a thigh- to waist-deep pool upstream. Catch some bass and turn around for the trek back.
Catfish Water (Wading Downstream from the Bridge)
The walk downstream from the FM 1690 bridge is mostly on gravel bars river right. A series of pretty, green pools with deep water along the far bank feature plenty of jumbled limestone boulders and sunken logs for cover. You are likely to pick up a bushel of rough cockleburs in your shoelaces and clothing, but otherwise it’s an easy hike.
At about the 350-yard mark, you’ll want to cross the river at a riffle and proceed along the north bank, river left. Eventually you will run out of gravel and find yourself wading in shin-deep water. This is a good stretch for sunfish and the occasional smaller bass.
At a bit more than 0.3 miles, School Creek enters river right. A short hike up that streambed will bring you to School Creek Falls, which are spectacular after a good rain. The large, circular pool below the falls holds a variety of fish year-round, but they are wary. You can also access School Creek by parking at the southwest corner of the FM 2527 bridge (31.23618, -98.11897) and hiking downstream to the Lampasas River. Skirt the falls by following a dirt trail around the huge, fallen table rock river left. The Lampasas is 500 feet downstream.
Back on the Lampasas, make your way downstream over gravel bars to the left bank and the long pool that begins a little over half a mile below the FM 1690 bridge. The pool offers overhanging vegetation river left and jumbled boulders river right. Wade along the north bank or down the middle until it is about thigh-deep, at which point you will want to edge back to your left and hop up on the limestone shelf that continues downstream the length of the pool.
Most Central Texas fly anglers don’t consider catfish unworthy quarry. We do get annoyed, though, when one steals a fly meant for a bass or a carp.
This is an extraordinary stretch of water—the pool stretches the length of about two football fields—and you could spend half a day here. There are ledges in shin- to knee-deep water along both banks, and they get wider the farther downstream you go. At the same time, the channel between them gets deeper—neck-deep toward the bottom of the pool. The ledges are deeply undercut and provide shelter for dozens, perhaps hundreds, of channel catfish, freshwater drum, and big bass. The drum and bass follow foraging cats, waiting for them to kick up a meal.
Sturdy footwear, a sling pack, landing net, and a bottle of water are about all you need to fish the upper Lampasas.
None of the fish are studying the surface here, though you might pick up a loitering bass on a popper or hopper. A better bet is to fish deep—Woolly Buggers, crawfish patterns, and damsel nymphs seem to work well. If the school of fish moves away, be patient; they’ll be back shortly. As the main channel begins to shallow again toward the tail of the pool, switch back to a light streamer or surface fly for bass and big sunnies.
Continue wading river left; there’s another, smaller pool ahead with an undercut limestone ledge along the south bank. At 0.8 miles from the bridge, the river makes a gentle S bend and starts to move away from FM 2527, the road running alongside the right bank. A huge, silvered tree lies stranded atop the gravel bank at the bend; just beyond it, shallow water dotted with fish-sheltering boulders stretches toward the next curve of the stream. About a mile downstream from the bridge, you’ll see a pool with spring seeps over jumbled boulders river left. There are bass, carp, and cats in this pool, and it’s worth spending some time here. Plus, it’s just downright beautiful water.
Below this last pool, a small waterfall spans the river. This is a great place to call it a day and begin the walk back upstream. There is good water below, as the river turns almost due south, but the next easy access point, at the FM 580 crossing (31.17184, -98.07101, park on the northeast side of the bridge), is 5.5 miles downstream. Still, you might want to check it out on the way home, because just below the FM 580 bridge, another long and broad pool, easily wadeable in thigh-deep water, narrows to a deep tail with undercut ledges. It offers the same assemblage of catfish, drum, and bass as similar pools upstream. From FM 580, it’s another 4.8 river miles to the FM 2313 crossing (31.11895, -98.05533, excellent parking on the northeast side), where the mix of bass species begins to tilt significantly away from largemouth to Guadalupe.
From downtown, take US 183/183A (tolls on the US 183A section) north about 70 miles to Lampasas. On the north side of town, where US 183 jinks west, continue north on US 281 (the two highway numbers share the road through town) for 10 miles to Farm Road 1690 on the right. Follow FM 1690 3.75 miles and cross the Lampasas River. You will see a dirt track paralleling the road on your left. Park near the barrier close to the bridge.
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Old Maxdale Bridge, Killeen |
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30.98992, -97.82894 |
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28909 FM 2670, Killeen, TX 76549 |
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62 road miles, 1:01 drive time |
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Difficulty: Easy |
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This stretch of river, about 3 miles centered on the historic bridge, is hands down my all-around favorite in Central Texas. The mixed schools of carp, spotted gar, redhorse suckers, gaspergou (freshwater drum), white bass, Guadalupe bass, and largemouth bass are one reason. The clear water that allows me to watch them is another. It’s also the best stream in the area to fish with friends—lots of friends. The broad riverbed and easy-walking gravel bars easily accommodate up to half a dozen anglers at once.
The Old Maxdale Bridge.
The view upstream from the Old Maxdale Bridge at normal low summer flows.
What You Will Find
A very rough trail between the blacktop of the old road where you’ll park and where the creek enters the Lampasas just upstream of the bridge. There is also a lot of poison ivy here. A better bet is to walk across the old bridge and follow the well-worn dirt trail down to the south bank on the downstream side of the bridge. There is a distressing amount of trash, along with graffiti tags and occult symbols. The bridge is allegedly a hot spot for paranormal activity; I say kids in the country both are inventive and have a lot of time on their hands.
A broad gravel bar in the streambed sometimes shows evidence of campfires, anglers, and picnickers. The river channel is shallow and runs along the north bank. About 800 feet below the bridge, the gravel bar comes to an end. A long pool stretching the better part of a quarter mile lies just upstream from the bridge. It is most often walk-through water. Let’s head that direction first.
Integrated Schools (Wading Upstream from Old Maxdale Bridge)
Walk through the first long pool river right (your left as you head upstream) about 0.3 miles until you come to the new Maxdale Road bridge. Just above this span, which does not offer access to the river, you’ll find a gorgeous, deep pool along the same bank.
A limestone ledge runs diagonally across the river and makes a fine casting platform. It also provides shelter for some hungry Guadalupe bass. Heavy vegetation and a giant submerged log river right provide good cover for largemouth bass and green sunfish. Look for carp, catfish, and drum in the deepest section of the pool and in the eddy at the head.
Cross the river where the limestone ledge meets the gravel shoal on the north bank. This is a great vantage point from which to survey the upper end of the pool. Sadly, some local bow fishers use it the same way, and if you see evidence that they have recently been there (carp and gar carcasses, beer and soda cans), keep walking. Bow fishing for nongame species is still legal in Texas, though waste of game and littering are not.
Cross the river again through the short riffle at the head of the pool. A tall sand-and-gravel dune river right affords a bird’s-eye view of the next pool, which has a table-like limestone shelf jutting from the far bank just under the surface during normal flows. A persistent stand of coontail moss grows along the south bank, and sizeable largemouth bass are often waiting to ambush prey from its cover.
Past this pool, you’ll cross the stream twice through two shallow and relatively unproductive pools. This is about as far as most conventional anglers and bow fishers care to trek; everything ahead of you is fly fishing water.
About 0.6 miles above the put-in, a 900-foot-long pool beckons. Head straight up the middle over sand and gravel, casting to the vegetated north bank and to the brush piles along the south bank. At typical flows, you’ll get wet to mid-thigh.
Walk softly and edge toward the gravel bar below the south bank. You’ll want to stop here a spell, unlimber your pack, crack a cold beer, and study the water. Spotted gar roll on the surface in the deeper water along the far bank, and there may be a couple of carp eating their way across the shallow, sandy bottom near the gravel bar. There will almost certainly be a dozen or so big fish lazily finning in and out of the shadows cast by overhanging elm and pecan trees on the north bank. Largemouth and Guadalupe bass, the occasional white bass, freshwater drum, and channel catfish track the carp, hoping they will scare up something edible.
A size 10 or 12 damsel nymph in black or olive, or a size 6 through 10 crawfish imitation, looks like something edible.
There’s a lot going on here, and it’s easy to spend an hour or two in this one spot. Stand in the shin-deep water just off the gravel bar long enough and the carp might nose right past your legs. Wait until they are headed away before casting; these fish are notoriously spooky in the clear, shallow water.
If you can tear yourself away (often I can’t, and I end my wade here), there is more good stuff ahead. From the upstream end of the gravel bar, head straight up the middle of the upper segment of the pool, paying particular attention to the undercut bank on your left. The very top of this pool, at 0.9 miles, features a pretty run shaded by large pecan trees. It is a great place to pick up a couple of Guadalupe bass and green sunfish. Looking upstream, the valley frames a prominent hill, and the north bank transitions from gravel and rich topsoil to jumbled limestone blocks. It’s a beautiful vista.
Cross the river again at the riffle and walk the gravel bar river right to a shallow bend at the 1-mile mark. Logs and brush accumulate here, and the force of the water over years has deeply undercut the bank river left. Some mammalian creature (probably a beaver—there are plenty of gnawed branches lying about) once made its home here and may still be in residence. Sunfish and Guadalupe bass are thick in the eddies at the bottom of the riffle and among the jumbled branches.
Continue upstream until you see a creek (Sycamore Branch) entering from the north. Here, at 1.1 miles, an undercut bank beneath trees river right holds Guadalupe bass, and a rock garden river left is home to some ferocious sunnies. The boulders on the north bank are a great place to take a break and enjoy the view.
As you continue upstream, edge left to get a good view of a head-deep, aqua pool below the north bank at 1.25 miles. Carp, redhorse suckers, and freshwater drum circulate in the eddy, waiting for something tasty to wash down to them. Again, a damsel nymph pattern looks pretty tasty, if you are one of those fish. So does a Pat’s Rubber Legs stonefly nymph imitation.
Soon the river makes a sweeping turn upstream to the southeast. The channel is beautiful here, clear and narrow with jumbles of boulders in the middle and along the north bank, which is now solid limestone. At the end of the gravel bar river right, a large, sandy backwater usually hosts one or two feeding carp. Cross here and continue on the broad gravel along the north bank. At mile 1.4 you’ll reach a deep pool with a jumble of large trees in the water; it’s a terrific place to throw a larger baitfish, mouse, or deer hair slider for bass.
Usually that’s enough for me, and I turn around here, but this beautiful, secluded gravel bar would also make a terrific camping spot.
Friends Territory (Wading Downstream from the Old Maxdale Bridge)
The stream runs faster here than it does closer to Lampasas, but it runs clear over a mostly gravel bottom. The first, broad pool is shallow but offers some decent water river right, along the south bank, which is shaded by cottonwoods, elms, and pecan trees. Wade down the middle of the river here, in knee-deep water, until you come to the next gravel bar, river right, at 0.3 miles. Your best shots along this stretch will be against the bank river left, where the water is a bit deeper and sunken logs and boulders hold fish.
As the gravel bar disappears, cross diagonally to the north bank of the river from which, at about 0.4 miles, you will be able to cast to a deep pool beneath large trees and heavy vegetation river right. This is another “everything pool,” with bass, catfish, freshwater drum, carp, sunfish, and even white bass present year-round. This pool alone is worth the drive north. The current runs fairly fast through the pool, even at low to normal flows; be sure to cast far enough upstream that your fly has time to get down to the fish, which are typically patrolling the deeper water here.
At the tail of this pool, cross a pretty riffle to walk river right. You may notice some metal fence posts driven into the gravel bar here, with purple blazes warning that you are on or near posted private property. This is a questionable warning, at best; the fixed, permanent bank—not the gravel bar—is the legal boundary of public waters in Texas (see the Texas River Law chapter).
Walking along the edge of the bar, you will soon come to another deep run with dozens of boulders scattered throughout the water, mostly along the north bank. This run, at about 0.5 miles, is a great place to toss a mouse, hopper, popper, or small streamer for Guadalupe bass and big green sunnies.
At about 0.7 miles, as you run out of gravel on the south bank, wade across the shallow stream to proceed downriver river left. The deep water along the south bank flows beneath overhanging trees; this is a great spot for spotted gar and carp. At just short of a mile below the bridge, a large gravel shoal—an island, really—bisects the river. If you were inclined to camp, this would be a good (and legal) place to do that.
A deep, curving run river left is worth some time, especially if there is timber caught in the bend, but the portion of the river that follows the south bank also is interesting, with good bass and sunfish action beneath the willows in the bend just before the two channels come back together.
Below the confluence, a tall limestone bluff rises river right. Swing a soft-hackle wet fly or nymph through the riffle for feisty little Guadalupe bass. Wade down the center of the stream through scattered boulders and then edge toward the north bank to fish a deeper hole at 1.2 miles. There are some carp in this section of the river, as well as bass, catfish, and drum.
Below the long, rocky run, at 1.3 miles, the river bends south below a high dirt bank river left. A submerged limestone ledge runs down the middle of this bend and provides cover for some hefty largemouth bass. Cast against the far bank for Guads and sunnies.
A dirt track leads down to the gravel bar river right here. You will see picnic tables and a portable restroom under the trees on the bluff. Tempting! But this is private property—a neighborhood park owned and maintained by the River Ridge Ranch Property Owners’ Association. Don’t use it without permission.
Cross the shallow pool at the bottom of the bend to the gravel bar river left. If you’d like to catch your first redhorse sucker, this is a great place to find them feeding in the shallows. They have the profile, and most of the speed, of a bonefish.
Just below this pool, at mile 1.6 river left, a gravel bar separates a backwater from a riffle that empties into a deep pool with jumbled limestone along the north bank. The eddy in the backwater, together with some downed trees caught in the bend, are home to some huge common carp and at least two grass carp that surely weigh more than 40 pounds.
These fish will eat while cruising the edge of the current here. Try dead drifting a damsel nymph over the drop-off or placing a backstabber or crawfish imitation on the sandy bottom in the backwater. The fish will run for the brush pile; a 5- or 6-weight rod with some backbone may be needed to turn them. The remainder of this pool can be fished productively from the gravel bar river right and is home to some river bass in the 5- to 6-pound class.
This pool is my usual turnaround point on the downstream stretch, but it’s possible to continue on through productive, wadeable water to the TX 195 crossing (30.973171, -97.777378), about 4.8 miles from the historic Maxdale Bridge. If you choose to make a one-way wade or to shuttle, park off TX 195 on the northeast side. A paved turnout there will leave your vehicle in clear view of passing traffic, which is more secure than parking beneath the bridge on the southwest side.
From downtown, take I-35 north through Georgetown to Exit 266 and pick up TX 195, a fast, four-lane road headed north. After about 27 miles, less than a mile beyond the Lampasas River bridge and just before the Ding Dong Café on your right, cross the southbound lanes to go left (west) on FM 2670, which roughly parallels the river. Set your trip odometer as you make the turn. In about 3.6 miles, a single-lane blacktop on your left will lead to an abandoned iron truss bridge over the river. If you follow FM 2670 over the river on the new, fenced-every-which-way bridge, you’ve gone too far.
Take the old road down to the galvanized barrier and park in the old roadway.
Out Here in the Middle, James McMurtry
Storm’s Drive-In Open 6:30 a.m.–10 p.m., Sun.–Thurs., till 11 p.m. Fri.–Sat.
Storm’s Drive-In in Lampasas has been in business since 1950, when it was the Dairy Cue (the old neon sign still graces the front of the restaurant). A drive-in fronting US 183/281 right in the middle of town, it features outdoor seating under a covered pavilion. The restaurant grinds its own hamburger on site, and the fries are fresh cut. Elvis was a frequent visitor when he was a soldier stationed at nearby Fort Hood more than half a century ago; folks say he would roll up in his Cadillac and order a strawberry shake with his meal. Storm’s doesn’t serve alcohol, but a frosted Coke can really hit the spot after a long day on the river.