On the Road: Bishop, Texas to Alamo, Texas

It had rained in the night and was still wet and muggy and overcast but with an OK forecast...mostly to partly cloudy but no rain, and temperatures in the 70s.

I have been grabbing half a cup of motel coffee and whatever fruit is offered and hitting the road. Today I finally ate something at a gas station in Rio Hondo late morning, which was a barbecued pulled pork sandwich and not-bad coffee. I had stopped there to get gas and buy bug spray. It was a bustling place...95% Hispanics.

Leaving Bishop, I drove directly south on a 4-lane divided highway with a speed limit of 70. It was not an interstate so there were what they call "crossovers" within every mile. So three times I "crossed over" and headed north and then "crossed over" again to head south to get better looks at hawks that I had whizzed by, going too fast on this busy road to safely stop and back up to see. The first one had been eating carrion and was not there the second time around. BUT the next two were, and both were life birds for me! The first was a Crested Caracara, a magnificent large hawk-like bird; subsequently, I saw three more traveling south. The second was a very cooperative White-tailed Hawk which did not fly even when I was directly beneath the tree where it was sitting. I could easily see the brownish shoulder patches against the grey body and the white breast and belly. Esther, this must be similar to finding a geocache. Once I methodically check range, size, habitat, frequency and then field marks, many of these identifications fall into place.

The landscape was wide open and the skies were mostly grey but with very occasional 30-second patches of weak sunshine. I had done a lot of research prior to this trip and had it all printed according to my route. Most were the major 10 or so notable birding venues here in SE Texas, but as I was looking through the notebook I found directions for the wintering grounds of Mountain Plovers with statements like "...and then drive through the plowed fields.." and "Mesquite Road is impassable after a rain..." I was headed to South Padre Island, and the "plowed fields" were on the way, AND, most importantly, these Farm to Market (FM) roads were nicely oriented north-south and east-west, a lot like open farm country in Iowa or Indiana or Montana. It was perfectly flat and one could sense the open water to the east.

So I ventured through the fields and the roads were totally fine and dry. I did not see either the plovers or Sprague's pipit which have been seen in these parts. There WERE, just like in Michigan and Indiana, dozens of Horned Larks and Meadowlarks and small sparrows which may or may not have been Song Sparrows. The skies were clearing and the scene was quiet and serene. I didn't see one farm vehicle on these field roads. It was such a contrast to the busy highway which I had been just been driving for 100 miles. At one intersection, a large white dog was lying in the middle of the road. As I eased gently past, he/she of course finaly roused and did his/her barking duty.

There was another beautiful causeway to South Padre Island with signs warning about pelicans. There must occasionally be mishaps with car-bird encounters, and pelicans are tame and large in these coastal areas. The island reminded me of Fort Myers Beach in that both are long and narrow islands, although SPI is much much longer. However, one can only drive 12 miles north, the last 6 miles through undeveloped dunes and drifted sands (but with several realty signs which I found unsettling and which made me crabby). What was not similar is that the roads had much less traffic and there were far fewer people, although this has to be an off season as I saw several motels advertised for $30 per night.

It was now sunny (way better than the day of deluges the Wetzels had in the Florida panhandle, for sure). The Birding Center has 1-mile boardwalk that is worth driving 3000 miles to see (I think) for the numbers of species possible in a setting of marshes and mud flats and the bay.

The first bird I saw was a Long-billed Curlew near the Center, and then two White-tailed Kites perched in a tree a bit too far for quick and easy binocular ID but, as always, there were birders around who knew right away what they were. That happened repeatedly over the next few days which was nice.

At one point, I watched an American Bittern right off the boardwalk, moving zen-like through the cattails. I know these birds are in Michigan, but they are secretive and perfectly camouflaged so I never see them. But this one was very close, and the birds in these protected refuges are tame and quite approachable. I didn't see any rails, but so it goes.

Another noteworthy encounter was a crazy Reddish Egret, moving in a demented way right off the boardwalk, skittering through the water, flailing its wings outward, running at the nearby Little Blue Heron, moving fast in one direction and then veering off in a totally different direction. I am learning that this is typical behavior for Reddish Egrets. It would be labelled ADHD in a human.

I drove out to the end of the road between drifting sand dunes with warning signs about sand on the road. The last six miles is still undeveloped and reminded me of the road to Ludington State Park. When I turned around, the high-rises were partially obscured by fog. There is something about an island...the unique quality of light and the smell of the sea.

I found a beach with gulls and shorebirds. It was public access, with hard-packed sand, and I could drive almost to the water's edge. I got the scope out and spent a delightful hour scanning Sanderlings, Laughing Gulls and Black Skimmers until I got the prize: a Snowy Plover, a threatened species. They are very small grey and white birds who build their nest on the sand and "line their nest with shells" according to Wikipedia. In a situation like this, the scope makes all the difference as I watched this sweet little bird forage in the wet sand. It is listed as threatened by the US Fish and Wildlife, so I felt lucky to have seen it.

Back to Brownsville, in busy traffic, with no idea of quite what to do next or where to stay. But I realized I would not be able to visit all the places I had researched so headed west and ended up staying in Alamo in a nice La Quinta and then worked for four hours.