On the Road

Joe Meche is president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and also serves the chapter as newsletter editor and birding programs coordinator. He has been watching birds for more than 50 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 30 years.

Part II

Editor’s note: This is part II of a two-part series. See the Dec. 2010 edition of Whatcom Watch, page. 3 for Joe’s Part I.

On any round-trip journey, there’s always the pivotal point when it’s time to turn around and head home. After spending a week in my hometown and focusing primarily on my mom’s needs, Cindy and I were ready to return to the road. After eight consecutive days of traveling, it’s nice to take a break; and after seven days of doing very little, the break is over and we eagerly anticipate the next round of sights and sounds.

For our departure, we planned to get back on the road early on a Sunday morning. It was well before dawn (4 a.m. to be precise) when we pulled out of my sister’s driveway and headed west to get past the looming megalopolis of Houston, Texas, before most of the inhabitants began to stir. The only thing we couldn’t plan was the thick fog that greeted us and immediately slowed our progress! Being the resilient couple that we are, however, we persevered.

Few things have the potential to impair the quality of a good road trip like the sprawl of large cities, so we always try to avoid those synthetic monsters. Sometimes, however, it’s more expeditious to take them head-on and that’s where the Interstate Highway System comes into play. We equate the major highways to McDonald’s. We don’t really care for them but when we’re on the road, it’s good to know they’re there if we need them. Good, well-marked highways and clean restrooms – who could ask for more?

Armed with the confidence that this Texas giant couldn’t harm us, we took the main freeway and blazed a path right through its heart. After all, it’s about connecting the dots. As it turned out, getting through Houston was a breeze and the Sunday morning traffic was considerably lighter than it would have been on any other day. I lived in Houston for ten years and when I have occasion to visit, I can’t believe that it’s the same place I left almost thirty-six years ago. I’ve often said that my decision to leave was one of the most significant that I’ve made, and I’ll let it go at that.

We were well west of the city when we traded four fast-moving lanes for two lanes and a sensible back road that would take us to the central Texas coast. As we neared the coast, our first views of the Gulf of Mexico revealed a coastal phenomenon heading our way – a line squall. We could see the squall as it formed over the water and then realized that we would drive right into it, which we did. It was an exciting experience, and the pouring rain provided a nice rinsing for our van. As we entered Rockport, the squall passed and blue skies returned along with sauna-like conditions brought on by a temperature of 93 degrees.

One of the unique features of the Texas coast is the almost unbroken chain of barrier islands that stretches from High Island on the north to the south end of Padre Island, just north of the Mexican border. These barrier islands provide protection for the mainland from the many storms that make landfall on the coast.

The Texas coast also has numerous large bays and estuaries that are accessible from the open water by way of natural passages through the barrier islands, such as Aransas Pass, which connects Corpus Christi Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. We crossed Aransas Pass on the free ferries that run continuously between San Jose and Mustang Islands. It was here that we discovered Mustang Beach, just south of Aransas Pass, and a highlight of our three weeks.

We arrived as the sun was going down to find a perfect blend of all the good things we cherish. The incoming tide and wind had pushed small bait fish into a corner against the south jetty of Aransas Pass and redfish were in pursuit. The small fish had no place to hide and as many as 500 terns of four different species were diving into the mass of fish right in front of our campsite. And then came the brown pelicans and gulls, along with a variety of shorebirds.

Amidst all this wildlife were fishing, wading and surfing humans. The birds’ feeding frenzy was so intense that they were oblivious to our presence and ignored us. Despite all the vehicles and people on the beach, the natural sounds of wind, water and birds overwhelmed the human sounds. The breeze and the air temperature were sublime as the sun went down on an evening as perfect as you could imagine.

The same elements that made the evening so special were still in place when the sun rose the next morning, and made our departure very difficult. We needed to keep moving, however, since this was a day to get serious about making our way across Texas. That afternoon, we enjoyed another benefit of the road; we stopped to visit friends in the Texas Hill Country, north of San Antonio. As certain as we were that we could make it to our preferred destination for the night, we decided to stop earlier in the day and opted for another campground on the banks of the North Fork of the Llano River, deep in the heart of Texas.

We were very excited to start off the following morning since we were now headed to an all-time favorite place – the Davis Mountains of west Texas. In a corner of Texas that is described as one of the darkest spots in the contiguous United States is an isolated state park campground that affords a perfect base camp for leisurely wildlife walks throughout the day. After dinner, Cindy headed for the showers while I went to a stakeout site near a water drip on a hillside. The primary attraction for birdwatchers at this particular site is the rare Montezuma quail.

I was the only person at the site and took a seat to await the elusive bird. Just as the sun was going down, I heard a rustling sound coming down the trail and I remember thinking that those small birds sure are noisy. Well, the surprise was on me as, one after another, eighteen wild javelinas came down to the watering hole. In no time, I was surrounded by these wild pigs. I stayed with the small herd until after dark. It was one more highlight during this adventurous road trip.

As we continued our journey the next morning, we took a noticeable turn to the northwest as we left Texas and drove into New Mexico. The next four days and nights were filled with wonderful sights along the way, including the golden, aspen-covered slopes of the Rocky Mountains in New Mexico and Colorado, the endless salt flats of Utah, and the basin and range country of Nevada and southeastern Oregon. Each day was filled with fall colors and a spectacular sunrise and sunset.

Our last full day on the road proved to be a long one, as we crossed the Columbia River into Washington. It felt good to be back in our home state, even though we still had a long way to go to get home. We experienced beautiful evening light as we followed the river northward. We were comfortable driving into the darkness because our destination for the night was a familiar place. We chose Alta Lake State Park for our final night on the road, partly because of the familiarity and mainly because we knew that it was a short four-hour drive to get home the next day.

After breakfast in Winthrop, we drove west on the North Cascades Highway and over the always spectacular Washington Pass. On the descent, we knew we were closer to home as the forests became thicker and greener. We rolled into Bellingham on a Sunday afternoon, which gave us plenty time to unpack and reflect on where we had been for the past three weeks. Almost two months later, we’re still trying to sort through all the memories that we packed into those three weeks. §