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Archive for the ‘Birds’ Category

A Second Look Proves Me Wrong

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 8, 2010| Leave a Comment »

 

Vernon, Texas, sunrise -- Photo by Pat bean

 

 “To the dull mind nature is leaden. To the illumined mind the whole world burns and sparkles with Light.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Travels With Maggie

 The 304 miles I drove this day – from Clayton, New Mexico to Vernon, Texas – took me through cattle, oil and agriculture lands with only a few small aging towns scattered between. The exception was Amarillo, but I skirted around this large “Yellow Rose of Texas” city, so nicknamed because amarillo is the Spanish word for yellow.

It was a day when roadside birds were few and flat boring scenery dominated the landscape. In fact, the only interesting thing I recorded in my journal about this day’s drive was a sign I saw in Chillicothe, Texas, where a tinge of poverty pervaded everything. This sign let me know that not all had given up hope.

“Cute Texas stuff for sale,” it read. Not a bad sales ploy I thought. Texans do like to display native doodads.

Meanwhile, I did what I usually do when I have miles to go and scenery that becomes mindless. I put a book on tape in my CD player. The one of choice for this day was a recording of early Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot stories.

Before I knew it, I was pulling into the Rocking A RV Park in Vernon, This city of about 12,000, located on the Old Chisholm Trail and home of rock-and-roller Roy Orbison, had the only decent RV park for miles around.

That evening when Maggie and I strolled around the park, I looked out over an industrial site and though how drab it looked. Fortunately I looked again early the next morning. The above photograph changed my mind about the local scenery. Suddenly things didn’t look so dull at all.

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Too Many Places, Too Little Time

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 4, 2010| 2 Comments »

  “Sometimes if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slow away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.” — Winnie the Pooh

 

The bridge across the Rio Grande Gorge near Taos, New Mexico. The river 1,500 feet below is near the beginning of a nearly 2,000 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

 

Rio Grande Gorge State Park

Just a few miles past Taos, which I drove through without stopping, I came upon Rio Grande Gorge State Park. Here I did call a brief stop to my travels. I mean who can resist at least a peak at a 1,500-foot deep gorge – and a river that one knows is near the start of an almost 2,000 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico.

As I looked down at the river from the park’s high, fenced overlook, I thought about a day at Big Bend State Park in Texas when a grandson and I had waded in its shallow warm waters and stared across it at Mexico. Most of the clear rushing water I was looking at below would never make it that far. Human development sometimes reduces the flow reaching the gulf to merely a trickle. Gypsy Lee settled in for the night in Clayton, New Mexico. Photo by Pat Bean

Soon, I was back on the road. I still had 150 more miles to drive before I could stop for the night. I seldom have such a long driving day, but on this trip I was facing a deadline to be in Arkansas to babysit three grandsons for a week – and I only had three more days to get there. 

I spent the night in Clayton, New Mexico, a small town where one has to drive 89 miles to the nearest Walmart, or so the desk clerk told me when she checked me in at the only RV park for miles around.

The town, a former livestock shipping center, sits along the old Cimarron Cutoff of the Santa Fe Trail. I had passed through Cimarron earlier in the day and had been seeing historic roadsigns since then telling me I was following the old cattle trail.

The Clayton KOA was a quiet, clean place with a run-down miniature golf course and dinosaur creations that had seen better days. I watched a croaking murder of crows fly past in search of a roosting spot as we took our evening stroll. Maggie sniffed around at the feet of the dilapidated dinosaurs, which advertised nearby Clayton Lake State Park where tracks of these prehistoric beasts attract passing tourists.

 

Statues showing their age advertise to visitors that dinosaurs once roamed the area. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Perhaps next time I pass through the area I wouldn’t be on a deadline and could do my own investigation of them. Dr. Seuss’ words: “Oh the places you’ll go, and the things you’ll see,” then flowed through my brain for the umpteenth time. I sighed – and added: “Too many places, too little time.”

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River Music Serenades an Unconnected World

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on October 28, 2010| 1 Comment »

 

And the Fish

The owl

“He who postpones the hour of living is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.” — Horace

Travel’s With Maggie

Today’s drive took me from Southern Utah’s red-rock high desert to Colorado’s San Juan National Forest. I spent the night at an RV park just outside of Pagosa Springs parked next to the Blanco River. It doesn’t get much better than this, I thought.

The Blanco River as seen from my RV window. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Our early September afternoon arrival left plenty of time for Maggie and I to take a hike along the river bank and among the wildflowers. Maggie kept her nose to the ground in search of exotic smells to follow, while I looked to the sky. A circling red-tailed hawk overhead drew my attention, as did a couple of chattering magpies in a nearby cottonwood tree.

I pity the poor person whose heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sight of this hawk’s red tail spread wide and flashing in the sunlight. On the other hand, I think some people pity my love for the playful but loud, long-tailed magpies they consider nuisance birds. Being a Texan not known for her quiet ways, I always feel these birds and I share a connection.

This would be the fourth time I had stayed at this Blanco River RV Park off Highway 84. It’s a welcome and convenient spot for campers traveling between Utah and Texas, a trip I’ve made annually since becoming a full-time RV-er. Each visit here has left me enchanted with both the setting and the little touches the campground owners have made to make the place special.

Modern day rock art -- Photo by Pat Bean

 I consider the rocks someone has painted and scattered about the park as fascinating as I find the pictographs and petroglyphs of earlier cultures.

 As I watched the sun disappear at the end of the day, a feeling of contentment oozed from my  pores. I realized I didn’t miss at all the fact that I had no phone, internet or television connections. Tomorrow would be soon enough to hook back up to the world.

Soon after, Maggie and I crawled into bed and went to sleep to the music of the river rippling over rocks.

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The Magic of Antelope Island

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2010| 1 Comment »

 

 

A view of Antelope Island, which appears moody this day. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Antelope Island is a favorite place of birders wanting to add a chukar to their life list.

 Antelope Island is a 28,000-acre bird haven in Utah’s Great Salt Lake accessed by a seven-mile toll causeway. It is home to a thriving herd of bison, playful antelope, sly coyotes and prickly porcupines.

 Migrating warblers visit, as do shorebirds and ducks that feed on the surrounding lake’s tiny brine shrimp and brine flies. California gulls nest each year on the rocky outcrops along the shoreline, bald eagles drop by in winter, and every spring hundreds of western meadowlarks, with their brilliant golden throats and song, nest on the island. The males sit on a high perch to melodiously proclaim their brooding territory while the females sit on nests hidden so well in the grasses below that you can walk within inches of them and not know they are there.

I visited this island almost every single week for two years after I caught bird-watching fever in 1999. It was my birding 101 lab. And every time I go back home to Ogden these days, I make time to once again visit this protected — the entire island is a Utah state park — wonderland.

A buffalo sculture looks out over the lake. Photo by Pat Bean

 

While a live version takes a sandy bath. Photo by Pat Bean

This trip, the drive across the causeway was made with more land than water to the sides of me. Once again, Great Salt Lake is nearing the 1960s record low of 4,191 feet above sea level. In the mid-80s, it was at a record high of 4,212 feet. I was present during this latter period when its high levels and wind-pushed waves tore out the causeway to the island as well as chunks of Highway 80 that stretches across Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats to Wendover, Nevada.

Now, 25 years later, I was getting to see it at its lowest. Was it Mother Nature’s drought and warm weather affecting the level, or was it the human diversion of water before it reached the lake driving the lake’s current low level? The question taunted the edges of my brain as I watched a pair of ravens circle overhead where the causeway curved. I wondered if these were the same ravens I had watched raise chicks in a huge nest several years earlier.

Antelope seen on the way to the island's historic Garr Ranch. Photo by Pat Bean

I spent four hours on the island this day. I watched with camera in hand as a buffalo took a sandy bath and kept my eyes glued to rocks for the sight of chukars surveying the landscape. Maggie and I took a hike around the point from the Bridger Bay Campground. Meadowlarks and red-winged blackbirds joined their voices to the drum beat of the lakes’s waves against the shoreline. I found the tune calming and marveled at the purepeacefulness of the day.

  While I still had questions and concerns about the lake and the island’s ever-changing future, Mother Nature’s magic was still all around me. I look forward to my next visit, and hope she can still be found.

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Bugs, Mice, Nighthawks, Owls and a Visiting Raccoon

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on September 27, 2010| Leave a Comment »

 “In wilderness I sense the miracle of life, and behind it our scientific accomplishments fade to trivia.” — Charles A. Lindbergh.

My morning visitor -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Midges and flies, but thankfully not blood-sucking mosquitoes, were an almost a constant human nuisance during my stay at Lake Walcott. A few even found their way into my RV, which was sad. While I’m very respectful of wildlife, even bugs and snakes, once a wild critter intrudes into my home, it usually ends up being a dead critter. A cute little field mouse discovered this when it nibbled on the tasty peanut butter I had spread on a mouse trap after I had spotted it scooting across my narrow floor.

 But bugs and mice are part of the circle of life. And if you’re a birder you have to appreciate them. These fast-breeding creatures make it possible for the existence of the slower breeding feathered flyers that amaze me. I saw this almost daily at Lake Walcott as the midges provided a tasty meal for a dawn and dusk parade of circling nighthawks flying overhead.

And while they didn’t make a personal appearance, I’m sure the great horned owls that hoo-hoo-hooed me awake each morning dined elegantly on some of the field mice I occasionally saw scampering through the sagebrush. During my

Common nighthawk -- Photo by Mark B. Bartosik

 earlier spring visit to the park, I had been honored to spot a great horned owl nest that had a couple of tiny heads poking above its jumbled wall of sticks. The park is full of huge, magnificent cottonwood trees that I knew from past sightings were favorite nesting spots of these silent flying night hunters.

 One morning I woke to find a four-legged critter poking around my campsite, one that has included human handouts as part of its menu plan. It was a raccoon, whose photo I took from my dining room table while drinking my morning coffee. While he didn’t get any tasty tidbits from me, I saw evidence of his dining habits in the wake of trashed tin garbage cans most mornings.

 When Maggie finally noticed our visitor, she barked excitedly. The raccoon appeared familiar with such nonsense. It merely stared for a moment at our RV, then slowly sauntered back into the brush behind the campground. I hoped he found something tasty out of the trash can I later picked up on my morning walk through of the campground.

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Sunrise and Hummingbirds Become a Morning Ritual

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on September 24, 2010| 3 Comments »

Sunset at Lake Walcott -- Photo by Pat Bean

 
 “What a joy it is to feel the soft, spring earth under my feet once more, to follow grassy roads that lead to ferny brooks where I can bathe my fingers in a cataract of rippling notes, or to clamber over a stone wall into green fields that tumble and roll in riotous gladness.” Helen Keller
 
From Twin Falls, it was just 58 miles to Lake Walcott State Park, where I would spend the next seven weeks. I arrived in the early evening and found the campground full, except for my host site, where a thoughtful park ranger had blocked it off with sawhorses to keep it vacant for my expected arrival.

Broad-tailed hummingbird

After hooking up, Maggie and I took one of the park’s paved trails down to the lake where a pair of western grebes floated gracefully on the water. I would see this same pair almost every day I was at the park. On the walk back to the RV, I watched a magnificent sunset turn the clouds a rosy pink, at times framing a full moon.

I awoke the next morning to an orange and purple sunrise and three broad-tailed hummingbirds playing king of the  mountain at the hummingbird feeder I had put out when I hooked up. The sunrise, which changed in intensity and colors to accommodate the weather, and the hummingbirds, which some days numbered up to eight, joined my cream-laced coffee and e-mail check morning ritual. 

Sunrise at Lake Walcott -- Photo by Pat Bean

By the time Maggie, who sleeps in until at least 9 a.m., woke and demanded a walk, we took it beneath fluffy white clouds floating in a robin’s egg blue sky. Western kingbirds, robins and western peewees kept us company as we walked through the campground, and then beside the lake to watch the western grebes. 

How could I do anything but look forward to my next 49 days. If home is where the heart is, I was there.

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Crossing the Columbia River

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Looking down the Columbia River at the Vantage Bridge and across it at Washington's Ginko Petrified Forest State Park. -- Photo by Pat Bean

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.” — Winnie the Pooh

Travels With Maggie

The mighty, 1,243-mile long Columbia River, begins in the Rocky Mountains of Canada, flows south through Spokane and then forms much of the border between Washington and Oregon on its way west to the Pacific Ocean. Maggie and I crossed it twice in the same week as we traveled to Mount Ranier and then down to Southern Idaho. Both times left me awed.

 The first crossing was on Highway 90’s Vantage Bridge, an impressive structure with overhead steel girders, the kind that always sets off a rare barking episode from Maggie. Passing motorcycles are about the only other thing she barks at during our road journeys.

Once across, the highway climbed steeply through a section of Ginko Petrified Forest State Park. From an

Turbine windmills, part of Washington's Wild Horse energy project, sit atop the Columbia River Gorge near the Vantage Bridge crossing. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 informational plaque at an overlook just east of the crossing, I had learned that the park, in addition to Ginko, the sacred tree of China now almost extinct in the wild, includes over 200 other kinds of woods preserved by million year old lava flows.

 I stopped at the top of the gorge at the Ryegrass Rest Area, where I got a hazy view of Mount Ranier, and a look at huge turbine windmills that take advantage of the winds created by the river gorge. During an earlier trip, when I followed the Columbia River Gorge’s path all the way through Washington, I stopped at Maryhill State Park, where I watched windsufers also take advantage of this same wind source. Mother Nature is so kind to us.

My second crossing of the river on this trip was over Highway 82’s Umatilla Bridge. Before crossing, I stopped briefly at Plymouth Park on the north side of the river, where I ate my lunch and watched robins and house sparrows stroll past, ever searching for a tasty treat of bugs, seeds or picnicker leftovers.

Lewis and Clark camped near this park, which is named after Plymouth Rock because of the huge basaltic rock that projects into the river at the site. The pair of explorers most likely saw robins in the area, but house sparrows hadn’t yet been brough over from England to America.

Joining my thoughts revisiting the Lewis and Clark expedition were one about the first white settlers who passed this

Highway 82 historical kiosk reminding travelers they are following the Oregon Trail route. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 way.   I was now seeing frequent signs reminding me that the smoothly paved road I was driving down was once little more than wagon ruts, and not even that for the first brave settlers heading west. My route across the Columbia River to Pendleton, Oregon, and continuing south was basically once known as the Oregon Trail.\

The pioneers’ crossing of the Columbia River would have taken much longer than mine and Maggie’s. How could one not be awed by the adventures of those hearty souls. Or by the Columbia River itself, I asked Maggie as I crossed the river on the Umatilla Bridge. There was no reply. Maggie was snoozing.

With no traffic in sight, I slowed my speed to better enjoy the river view.

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Patriotic Birds vs. Clean Socks

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on August 16, 2010| 1 Comment »

‘Variety’s the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavor.” — William Cowper

Patriotic birds at Silver Beach RV Resort -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

I spent my last two nights in Washington at two commercial RV parks that were as different as a rude log cabin and a modern new home.

The first was Silver Beach RV Resort off Highway 12 right next to Rimrock Lake, an emerald gem that I first saw on my way to Mount St. Helen’s and Mount Ranier. I decided then that I would explore it more fully when I retraced my route back to Interstate 82.

The park had a rustic ambiance about it that took away its commercialism, as did the tiny, faded American flags flying from birdhouses. It cost me $20 for the night, which upon paying I was assigned campsite 34. .

By the time I located it, since the numbering was a bit odd, I had driven in a circle three times. I found the electrical outlet attached to a tree trunk. It was only 20-amp instead of 30-amp provided at almost all RV parks. Fortunately I had an adapter that I use when I occasionally park in one of my kids or friends’ driveway.

The view of the lake and the robins and warblers singing among the trees made up for any lack in facilities, however, and a breeze blowing through my open windows from off the lake lulled me into a sound, peaceful sleep.

Rimrock Lake view from Highway 12 -- Photo by Pat Bean

The next morning, Maggie and I hiked a forest trail that began near my camp site before once again heading east on Highway 12. Several times I stopped to take pictures. Rimrock Lake ran parallel to the highway for about 10 miles, until passage through a rock tunnel across the road erased it from view.

 

I reached Yakima in early afternoon, where I treated myself to lunch at Red Lobster (I had been craving crab for several days) before seeking out the Travelers Inn RV Park. It was the kind of place where you camp on asphalt with a young lone tree and three feet of manicured lawn between you and other RVs – usually 40-footers. I always think of canned sardines when I’m put in this position, for which this night I paid $35.

So why did I stay here?

Two weeks of dirty clothes and the fact I was wearing my last pair of clean socks. Places like this always have clean laundry rooms. Sometimes a nature-loving-soul has to take it on the chin for the sake of cleanliness.

 I went to sleep this night with the buzz of some boring cable TV program in the background. It felt good to be back on the road early the next morning.

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Hickory, Dickory, Dock. The Cat and Mouse Ran Up the Tree

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on July 28, 2010| 3 Comments »

Lake Mayfield at Harmony Lakeside RV Park in Mossyrock, Washington. ... Photo by Pat Bean

 

 

If you look closely you can see my RV on the other side of this small grove of trees at Harmony Lakeside RV Park ... Photo by Pat Bean

 Cat’s Motto: “No matter what you’ve done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog did it.” — Unknown

Travels With Maggie

 On my way to Mount St. Helen’s, I stopped at Harmony Lakeside RV Park in Mossyrock, Wash. I planned on making the scenic park my base for three days while I explored the volcano and surrounding area. The park, however, had no record of my reservation, which had been made a month earlier.

 Their computer suffered a melt down and I was most likely, the friendly mother and daughter running the office said, one of the glitches they were discovering after getting back online. To give them credit, they did the best they could for me on this fully-booked Saturday night. I was squeezed into the one remaining vacant site, which the pair apologetic explained was seldom used because it was so small and close quartered, they apologized.

This totem pole that sits beside a small pond full of koi gives the park a northwest flavor ... Photo by Pat Bean

Hermit thrush ... Wikipedia photo

My evening was spent with only a view of six large RVs that had a return view directly into my windows. To get any privacy, I had to pull down my RV shades. I hate doing that.

Thankfully, things got better the next day. I was reassigned to a large site that had a view of Mayfield Lake out one side and its own small forest grove – four large trees, three double-trunked smaller trees and several bushes – on the other.

 That evening, as I was sitting at my dining room table catching up on my e-mail, a hermit thrush made its appearance in the grove. Now I’m always excited to see any bird, but this one was special, both because it’s not one I often see and because it was a new addition to my 2010 bird list. I first suspected it was a hermit thrush when I saw its plain brown-back and rusty red tail. The identification was confirmed when it faced me and I caught a glimpse of its white-rimmed eye and the dark brown spotches that decorated its white chest.

I had been watching the thrush for several minutes from inside my RV, which makes a perfect bird blind, when a sudden rustling in the underbrush scared it away. The noise was accompanied by a tiny mouse scampering up one of the larger trees. Immediately on its tail was a a black and white cat.

The pair both made it about 30 feet up the tree trunk before the cat stopped and appeared to realize where it was. The hesitation gave the mouse time enough to escape. The cat quickly reversed its direction and them jumped to the ground. It landed two feet away from my RV, took time to lick one of its paws, then casually strolled away, as if to say “I didn’t want that mouse anyway.”

I laughed out loud. As much as I had been enjoying my birdwatching, I had to admit that the sight of the cat and mouse running up the tree had been an even better show. I never saw the cat or the mouse again, but the hermit thrush made several more appearances in the grove.

Watching the world outside my RV window is always better than television.

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Ladies Night Out: Drinks, Dinner, a Boat Ride, Geese, Goats and Laughter

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on July 17, 2010| 3 Comments »

Travels With Maggie

“Laughter not only makes the journey endurable and even enjoyable, it also helps keep us healthy.” — Joyce Meyer

 Seventeen female volunteers and staff workers from Farragut State Park met this week for dinner and drinks at the Floating Patio. The small bar and restaurant sits atop Lake Pend Oreille in the tiny tourist town of Bayview. Idaho.

A Canada goose takes off in front of our pontoon boat ... Photo by Pat Bean

The deep blue, 65-mile long lake’s name is a sure give away of who’s a local and who’s a tourist just passing through. It’s pronounced Pon-da-ray, which is sort of French for ear, or so I’ve been told, not Pend-o-rye-ly, as I called it before I was corrected.

I’ve learned that when a group of females get together – be they giggling teenagers to wrinkled and post menopausal old broads – irreverent laughter often rules.

Heading into the Floating Patio for Drinks and Dinner ... Photo by Pat Bean

 So it was this night as we drank our wine and Diet Cokes, snacked on pre-dinner popcorn and then ate our hamburgers, chicken Caesar salads or barbecue specials. Without boyfriends or husbands to please, compete with, impress or cater to, women often lose their inhibitions of proper-ness. Men, I think, do the same when women are not present. It has nothing to do with liking or loving the opposite sex, it just feels good once in awhile to be in a group that best understands you.

The laughter and camaraderie we shared getting to know one another better during the meal continued as we boarded two pontoon boats for a cruise of the lake. Ours was captained by Scott Bjergo, owner with his wife of Floating Patio Boat Rentals and Bayview Merc. You can reach him at bayviewboatrentals.com.

Shoreline reflections paint the lake's canvas ... Photo by Pat Bean

 I asked because I was impressed by Scott, who put up with our female kidding of him being the boy toy on the boat, and because I thought of how great it would be to spend a day on the water with friends and loved ones. You might think the same if you’re ever in Idaho’s panhandle just 100 miles away from the Canadian border.

I was truly looking forward to the boat ride. Being on the water makes me giddy. It’s a comfortable feeling of both awe and belonging. I sometimes wonder if its my ancestral cells calling to me.

The avid bird-watcher in me also got a treat when a gaggle of geese led our pontoon boat away from the Floating Patio. They floated ahead of us so close I was afraid our boat was going to run over them. One in particular was slow to get out of the way, but finally took a running, flapping scramble into the sky. Droplets of water from its spray hit me as I leaned out to snap a photo of the awkward aerial takeoff and then its graceful flight as its wings caught the air.

Women on the second boat excitedly point out the mountain goats high on the escarpment. ... Photo by Pat Bean

 Long evening shadows of color from sailboats, trees, cliffs and houses painted the dark water. Pend Oreille, is over 1,000 feet deep in places, which makes it an excellent spot for the Navy’s testing of submarines, albeit miniature unmanned ones that could have even now been passing beneath us. We passed by the Navy’s lake facilities, both onshore and lake anchored, where the testing is done.

 The highlight of the evening aboard the boat would have to have been the sighting of the mountain goats on the steep

 glacial carved escarpment surrounding the lake. After a few white rocks fooled us, we finally got a glimpse of four of the goats near the top heading upward. We had missed a closer view of them coming down to the water to drink. The goats were too far away for my camera to capture them, but I did get a photo of the passengers in the other boat as the women excitedly pointed at the animals.

 The evening ended all too soon, with everyone heading back to the park, most to loved ones of the opposite human sex. Maggie, my faithful cocker spaniel travel companion was waiting for me to tell her about my ladies’ night out. And I did. She’s been my soul mate for the six years I’ve been traveling the country in my RV.

It’s always ladies night out for the two of us.

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