It’s a Rayne’n Frogs

Posted on December 11, 2023 by TheJessicaness
Horseshoe Lake

Caleb found us a perfect spot under the stars last night at Stephen F. Austin State Park. The trees surround our view and the bathroom is lit up in the distance. It is in the low 40s when we climb out of the tent in the dark because I’m excited to go look for some rare birds at the Attwater Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge. Their average size is just over a foot in length and like other grouse, they tend to blend into their habitat unless they’re on the move in a clearing. They are most active in the morning and late afternoon and there are only 178 of them, as of 2021.

There used to be about a million of these chickens between Corpus Christi, Texas, and Bayou Teche, Louisiana but their environment is constantly being adapted for human travel and consumption needs. They used to roam over eight million acres and now have 10,000 left to call home. Even here, there’s a new visitor center being constructed and I can only hope that researchers and scientists weighed the pros and cons of education and preservation over secretly buying up land and maintaining the population in private. I’m grateful for the opportunity to be here.

portrait
taxidermy and wood blocks

The moon is on its way out of the sky as the dark orange turns to pink. We sit in the car and watch some cows cross the road – confused that a car has the patience to wait on them. It’s these traffic delays that don’t bother me and I give the herd their ten minutes before leaving a straggler to cross behind us. There’s a footpath on the right, by a kiosk, before the auto tour route that goes over a bridge and leads to bird blinds overlooking Horseshoe Lake. We watch 18 whooping cranes take flight. They are, along with the sandhill crane, the only crane species native to North America – and the tallest bird species.

happy cow

The other, easy to identify, bird sighting is the killdeer – a large plover that prefers grasslands (laying eggs among the rocks as camouflage protection) over muddy riverbeds and is tolerant of human disturbance; hence why it was so comfortable in the road. I’ve heard of subliminal messaging in advertising but never in nature. My brain was registering activity in the prairie but I was only seeing glimpses of movement as the very discreet cougar made its way through the concealing field. I wish I could’ve parked faster, but even opening my door is against the rules in some parks as big cats move quickly when they’re hungry.

I maintained my distance while wanting the puma to pounce closer to my lens, though I was able to capture proof of this encounter; unlike the one on a hiking trip where I preferred the quick departure of the predator. Having been up for hours, I pull over so we can get breakfast started. We are not the only ones getting hungry as the mule deer begin to pop their heads and bodies up from their nightly nest and only one tries hiding behind the only tall green shrub in this portion of the park. The hoofed ruminants look smaller than other mule deer stags, but their antler points tell us they’re at least three years old, so roughly halfway to full antler potential.

We return to the kiosk footpath after the auto tour route and walk the Horseshoe Lake Trail where the deer are openly enjoying the warmth of the sun, as are we. Now that the frost is melting though it only makes our shoes, and toes, wetter. The open and empty visitor center has a collection of mounted birds so that visitors can get an idea of the stationary and migratory variety through this area. Outside the refuge, we passed Caushatta’s cows. The company has received $1.1 million in subsidies in the last ten years. The top 1% of farmers receive a quarter of all payments – as those who produce the most, receive the most – just like the small business stimulus checks to manage the fallout of COVID-19.

I thought I had found a roadside attraction, but instead of finding Factory Store attached to the location name, I put “near La Quinta in Brookshire” as our guide to the Giant Igloo Cooler. I didn’t know if we’d be able to go in or just peek in a window, but the guard let me know that I wasn’t getting past their frame that filled the doorway. I didn’t think they had secret bean recipes worth hiding bodies over. The giant cooler full of security devices and mechanisms is in front of the gated entrance, so we spent some time looking over their inventory in the gift shop-sized outlet with no tour or interest from the employee.

Houston traffic between people getting to work and eating lunch isn’t terrible. We arrived at Baytown Nature Center and the woman who should’ve charged us an entry fee blessed us without one because we seemed too chipper to be here. She knew we were from out of town and that we would never come back (unless we returned like we said we wouldn’t to the Everglades) once we found out what awaited us. We are excited to walk along the water and see so many birds and even more so when we see the sunning alligator, though too far away for a selfie or relocation – good thing we’re not tourons (tourists + morons).

We are distracted by the beauty, and covered from the wind, when my exposed hand starts to swell up like I shoved a cotton ball to replace my knuckles. We will spend the rest of our walk/jog slapping each other’s necks and backs and ignoring the toxic environment we now find ourselves in. We have to laugh that the woman in the kiosk is probably giggling too, but perhaps she coats herself in bug spray before attempting our fate. I don’t know if I’m becoming more allergic or if the mosquitoes are just packing more punch. Just an idea – set up blood donation sites at these parks so we can enjoy them in peace while the bugs drown themselves in tainted juice.

Caleb is still able to talk me into stopping to walk the trail at Butterfly Garden where we see some men fishing. There are not as many mosquitoes here. It has been so long since I have planned and Caleb navigated a road trip that we are using this one to get the kinks out. I thought a visit to Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge would be a great stop, but I, or the park’s website, should’ve clarified which part of the park we had planned to see, as there are a few. We arrive at the visitor center, cross the little bridge, and take the paved path behind the trees – a short detour.

Caleb sees the next southern stop as a 16-mile one-way detour but had I noticed the other stops along the FM 1985, going east, we could’ve completed the loop via Winnie back to I-10, instead of losing eleven miles by turning around. It doesn’t help that our next stop is closed on Mondays, so we’ll have to skip the Shangri La Botanical Gardens in Orange. Caleb is quick to find a replacement stop at Tyrrell Park in Beaumont. At the back of the park is a marsh boardwalk, about the length of a long boat dock, and at the end are two retired men comparing job benefits and lens sizes while they birdwatch since there is no gator action today.

The birds are eating while we walk and stare at their heads and tails. There is something about animal butts that I find intriguing, unlike the human rear-end that’s not as endearing. I’m not alone in this endeavor as there are videos of cats, dogs, sheep, rabbits, etc., with googly eyes, getting scratches, and learning to put them in the air or bounce them like they just don’t care. In the greenhouse, there are plenty of verdant plants, a bit of flowers, and some hungry gnomes. There’s a small garden outside too with some pink flowers that attract the Gulf fritillary or passion butterfly.

I thought there was a time change, but we’re still in Central Time when we cross into Louisiana. It just takes us two hours to get from south Beaumont to Rayne; the city nicknamed the “Frog Capital of the World.” The frogs aren’t shy either as we are met with a mural on the highway with the “Louisiana City of Murals” ahead. I’m sure the town is grateful for the name change from Pouppeville that came with the railroad, but I imagine how many frogs it took to support being the number one frog legs exporter of up to 10,000 pounds a week in the 1900s; which is what all the hop is about now.

On our way to another mural, I noticed a frog statue that was also part of the plan by the Beautification Board and that set me on a mission to find more. The frogs are in varying stages of upkeep. It’s so whimsical to have something that ties the city together, but remains unique as each statue and mural matches the business’s theme that it represents. I see a frog dressed as a maître d’ and a historic property sign for a warehouse/restaurant and my curiosity and love of food have me looking inside. There are two women at the bar, who invite us in, and another mopping by the round tables of this event venue.

There are clean wooden floors, exposed bricks, and a mural downstairs so I have to ask if we can see upstairs too. We are permitted without question and I daydream about lounging on the couch and using the bathroom, of which I do neither. We are met at the top of the stairs; I heard them asking themselves what we were doing here – for the paper or just interested in old buildings. I gush about my love for the frogs, art, and history and am met with an offer that we check out the back patio below. We skip down the stairs, open the door freely, and peek at not much, but it’s too late.

I realize we are locked out while Caleb peeks through a fence to see if there is anything worthy of a photo. Too bad I didn’t take a selfie of us in our predicament, but I was trying to get the mopper’s attention without damaging the door; not knowing the fragility of the wood or the many panes of glass. After the women have their laugh at stranding the strangers, the woman from behind the bar comes to our rescue and we are quick to leave so that we may tell our story and perhaps be lucky to return one day for another tale at this historic warehouse.

Small towns have such a great feel to them, especially when they’re a good distance from a big town so you can still see concerts, and museums, and visit stores for those few items that don’t find their way to your local shop. There’s a little stage where some families and companies have decorated short boards into trees because they know their neighbors and enjoy celebrating with them, regardless of the occasion; though I may be projecting too much. The only places to have other statues are the police and fire stations and the church to remember their fallen.

Beside the church is St. Joseph’s Cemetery, the only Christian one with graves facing north-south instead of the traditional east-west. It has been this way since the town was relocated in 1882 and has made it onto Atlas Obscura and into Ripley’s Believe it or Not! with the article posted in the lobby of the Chamber of Commerce. I didn’t notice the directional disaster, just the collection of headstones between us and the self-storage on the other side – pun intended. We explore until nature’s flash and the lack of one on my camera puts an end to our hopping about here.

Frogs use their eyeballs to swallow by letting them sink into their mouth and help push their prey down their throat. I use my eyes to eat, but only to connect with my food in a different manner. I thought I was being helpful to our health by buying different rice, instead of the usual noodles, to go with beans and mixed veggies for dinner, but our Sumo Jetboil lining is a bit more temperamental due to its ability to boil a liter of water in four minutes and 15 seconds. The new Flash Jetboil has this feature down to three minutes and 20 seconds, which would have obliterated our meal instead of just burning/attaching it to the interior lining bottom.

We stop for gas on the east side of Baton Rouge and I get an orange sherbet and butter pecan swirl soft serve while Caleb gets a phone cable so we can both charge our phones in the car – ah, the luxuries of technology. He got the wrong adapter end and had to dig the receipt out of the trash and wait in line to exchange it for the correct one. I finish talking with Fallon, the friend we’re driving to visit in Florida, while Caleb sets up camp at Fairview-Riverside State Park, about half an hour from the Mississippi border. It was one of three options I gave us, this one being 38 miles east of Tickfaw State Park.

Posted in Animals, Art, Camping, Food, Hiking, History, Inspiration, Media, Photography, Plants, Travel, Water | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Caverns of Sonora

Posted on December 10, 2023 by TheJessicaness
holiday tree at Atrium Inn

If I hadn’t set an alarm, we’d have been woken up by the AMBER Alert in San Antonio of two kids under five years old. This “America’s Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response” program was named after Amber, a nine-year-old, who was abducted from Arlington in 1996. It would take two years before this program saved a child’s life, but there was less than one alert for every thousand kids the police and FBI had reports for in 2021. It would take until 2005 for all states to have operational programs and until 2013 for the alerts to be sent automatically instead of as in 2002 when people could sign up to receive notifications electronically.

I remember the milk carton photos of missing children. This program was started in late 1984 and a few months later some 700 out of 1600 independent dairies had agreed to print pictures on their cartons. This would introduce “stranger danger” to kids at breakfast, who back then were more likely to be taken by a noncustodial divorced parent than a stranger. We may have been 300 miles away, and sadly so many bodies are found too close to home but too many minutes or years too late, so perhaps we would see the getaway car and be able to point the police in the right direction; even if the sun’s not up yet and we’re still inside.

Caleb hands me our coffee cups while he packs the car. I make myself a strawberry Texas-shaped waffle with a blueberry yogurt and Caleb will join me for an original waffle with a peach yogurt as our syrups. We’re off to get gas in the dark. We try Sunoco first, but they want cash only. I’m more likely to even carry cash if I’m traveling to another country than remembering that some places here still use it, especially after the COVID-19 fiasco. Oh well, we’re able to fill up for $27 at Chevron, instead of the usual $50 in California, so you know where we aren’t staying or settling once Caleb retires from the Navy.

Sunrise isn’t for another half hour but we’ve got a two-hour drive to our first stop that opens at 9am so we watch the horizon go from dark orange to yellow to blue. When driving into the sun, it feels like it rises faster than it sets, but perhaps the mountains and other obstructions are just better placed in the morning than they are in the evening. This portion of Highway 10 seems to be a popular place for tires to explode and generally come off vehicles to bake between pavement and the Texas sun; which also helps to heat the inside of the car and causes Caleb to sweat since he still has his seat warmer on medium setting.

The Caverns of Sonora open at 9am, in the winter, so I suppose the first tour will start 15 minutes later because everyone should be there early and thinking they’re late. I was hoping our eight-minute delay wouldn’t make us wait for the second tour as my notes had this down for a two-hour event and I know we wouldn’t (I couldn’t) possibly be patient that long. A man greets us at the desk and while Caleb uses his military discount to get us two tickets for $32, I read the sign that says no bags, jackets, etc., so that you hit nothing as doing so is now a felony in Texas.

We later learn that the reason this crime was escalated in punishment was due to the right-wing being broken off Sonora’s trademark formation, The Butterfly, in 2006 and stolen. There is still a $20k reward towards the return of this piece. We’re told the tour will start at 930, maybe 10, and again that I leave my jacket. The sign says 70* but our tour guide, Lisa, tells me 80*, so I drop it in the car, though there is a sweater delivery service that will drop your coats off at the exit in the cave tunnel for your walk back. I’m glad I left it and even wish I’d put on shorts, as I got sweaty underground.

We look around the gift shop, I watch the guinea chickens (never put them with a guinea pig, but there’s also guinea-worm disease), and a couple and a family wander in pushing back our start time. I’m also stressing the group of children, but the price per person is too steep for them, so we will leave with Lisa and a couple – wife and a man in the Air Force carrying his 30lb three-year-old son, who will do surprisingly well – after our safety brief. We get some who fell in which hole history before entering the temperature-controlled door at 10am.

I’m directly behind the tour guide, as usual, but my camera lens hasn’t caught up to the 98% humidity, a change of about 90% from outside, as I snap my first hundred photos. Caves are such a snapshot of time and they’re able to capture so much of it while still supporting life and letting water do its thing; which is to continually carve and drip and collect through the layers of stone and tell another story each time you see it. Some caves are off-limits, and some parks are on a lottery basis, so this visit feels even more precious that I get to peek at its formations at least once.

There is so much to see here and I feel my usual cave tour rush, though the family isn’t asking to get by and our guide seems to have forgotten her time-telling device. I steal a few extra minutes to try and photograph this whole cave, but even Lisa wouldn’t be able to do that yet; and she walks these halls many times a day, if she is so lucky. Her daughter will soon start giving tours, now that she’s 18, and it will be her first job. I do suppose having a parent to study makes it easier to go into their field of work and in a sense I have – customer service and creativity; though one is way more rewarding than the other.

We are shown things hidden behind other features and told when to look up and other times back. Caves should start offering the reverse tour option so that, like an out-and-back trail, you can see one place from two perspectives. Though I would also offer the crawling tour, for a closer look at all things below knee level, and a guided tour of just staring at the ceiling to capture all things above. A cave is like a novel that you read by skipping pages; you still get the gist of the story but there’s so much more to learn in the details you miss.

There are so many features, the pond (without pennies) being one of my favorite, but also the glow-in-the-dark calcite caused by deposits of manganese that change energy states based on photon absorption and cause the light we see. There’s a lot of science going on in here and the kid does great as we sit in the dark and pretend to stare at our hands in front of our faces or anything else because we can’t see anything. This is why I wouldn’t have been an early cave explorer – probably not for fear of destroying something I didn’t understand, but for breaking myself and getting caught in a tight space or both.

As Lisa points out shapes – a dinosaur (the kid’s interest peaks, but he’s let down), a bird (the kid shows interest but can’t see it from the two points of view), so by the time we got to the fish tail and bacon he was over it. The first moment reminded me of a scene in Short Circuit where Johnny 5 says, “No shit. Where see shit?” Though we were able to see some secret cave crickets, a species of camel crickets, that help the cave ecosystem by providing poo to spiders, eggs to beetles, and their bodies for nutrients. There’s even a carving of a cave cricket in France that’s over 12,000 years old, pet or pest, and still around.

The kid starts to get hungry, so Lisa pulls out an adult-hand-sized soft butterfly necklace, so he has something to help fly out of the cave and the distraction works wonderfully. I can’t believe it’s already been 80 minutes but our time is up and the walk back, in the cool air, feels great. One of the employees dumps some chips on the ground for the local peacocks and Lisa brings out some pecans so that I can feed them by hand. Today is an example of a perfect day, and this was just a portion of it. I got to be among nature, learn more about it, interact with animals, and have a conversation with a stranger.

Hygieostatic Bat Roost

We have to bypass the Riverside Nature Center in Kerrville because they are closed on Sundays, but luckily there’s a historical landmark just 20 minutes up the road. The Hygieostatic Bat Roost, in Comfort, was built in 1918 in hopes of eradicating mosquitoes to reduce the spread of malaria. This roost is one of 16 constructed between 1907 and 1929 in the US and Italy. It’s on a gated property, so I took a picture through the fence. The next point of interest (that we don’t stop at) is the Bumdoodler’s in Boerne; a lunch company that has served deli sandwiches and homemade pies, since 1982.

Cibolo Nature Center

Just across town is the Cibolo Nature Center & Farm. There’s a large prairie, some woodlands, and a meadow across the river. The visitor center is closed. We take Cooper’s Crossing, little stone steps across the water, and explore the other side. We get passed by a runner with a dog (off-leash who waits to pass us) but the trail dead-ends and there’s a fence around the farm and no proof of them having been there. We think we’re on another trail because we see a couple sitting on a branch in a small clearing, but we get lost, almost get our shoes wet, and have to backtrack and hike our way back up to the trail.

This must be the day of missing people, though I didn’t realize that Texas averages 130.6 people per day and the national average is around 2,300, which means the second largest state only accounts for 5.7% of missing people reports. I bring this up because while we were hours from San Antonio I got a Silver Alert (old and disabled person missing) for Houston. This program was started in Oklahoma in 2006 to help find the at-risk elderly, especially those with dementia who wander off. All states now have some form of this program but it has failed on a federal level due to criticism of too many Alerts, colors, and cost; though it seems to have a high success rate.

Caleb has been craving Mellow Mushroom since we left San Diego and finds one, en route, in San Antonio. Whether we avoid the metropolitan area and stay on the 46, dip down on Loop 1604 to eat, or stay on the 10 through downtown, our travel times would be the same for the 56, 66, and 70 miles of each route. We have no issues getting to the restaurant because we arrive earlier than the senior citizens discount for dinner (not a thing here). After nibbling on our small pizzas (cheaper to do two flavors on a large) and sipping on a blueberry lemonade ale, I notice the American flag that seems to be made of Monopoly pieces on the wall. Upon inspection, all the little people are holding Thailand flags.

Now full, we get into traffic and I’m used to being able to set my cruise control and pick a slow lane in San Diego (which works most of the time) but it’s not an option here. I try speeding up to drive like the others, but then remember how this makes me feel so I slow down and continue to do so until I’m calm and the BS passes when the third lane arrives. We can’t make everyone happy and when others don’t use the left lane to pass only (a requirement to varying degrees in every state) it does no good being in their ass and then slamming on the brakes, even if it means doing under 65 in an 80 mph zone.

I found the World’s Largest Pecan on our route, and Caleb finds the story behind why there are two locations. A five-foot nut replica to honor the history and contribution of Cabeza de Vaca was built in Seguin in 1962 and placed in front of City Hall. Twenty years later, residents in Brunswick, MO felt like building a replica of their patented pecan, twice the size of the original and ten times the weight, to honor a local farming couple, the James’. In 2011, Seguin finally took back the title with their 16-foot version of the pecan housed at The Big Red Barn.

We are the only visitors at both. The first pecan is at an intersection and we park across the street. The second pecan is four miles up the road and we have a whole parking lot to ourselves. The nut is lit all night and even has holiday lights around the railing (not sure if they stay up year-round). This is one battle I don’t mind watching the outcomes of. I hope that people don’t find a reason to cancel nuts one day and tear them or other “largest” statues down. Instead, change the placard to educate people about the truth.

I’m not the only nosy one in this relationship. Caleb goes on to explore the rest of the outside of the closed museum and we find a church, farm, and garden. There’s maybe ten minutes of dim light left on the horizon as I snap a photo of a calf and we climb back into the car. We’ll get to Stephen F. Austin State Park for the night and I get cozy in my sleeping bag as soon as Caleb is done setting up the tent and blowing up our mattresses, since I was busy being warm in the car and taking notes, so we can remember some of today’s details.

Posted in Animals, Camping, Food, Hiking, History, Media, Military, People, Travel, Water | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Watch for Water

Posted on December 9, 2023 by TheJessicaness
Rockhound State Park

We wake up in Deming, New Mexico and after a shower, putting the tent away properly (after last night’s hurry), and getting some free coffee and an apple cinnamon waffle are ready to face the 30°F day. Our first stop is Rockhound State Park, which has us going south towards the Little Florida Mountains. There’s a trail from the picnic area that climbs higher into the wind. This area of the park is better known for its abundance of minerals and wildflower displays – neither of which we are seeing in the cold shade.

Spring Canyon Rec Area

We’ll drive to the Spring Canyon Recreational Area, better known for its peaceful hiking and stunning scenery, in hopes of seeing an Ibex goat now that the temperature is 41°F. The park’s elevation ranges from 4,500-5,400 feet and we’ll experience some of this climb on what used to be a paved road. While we’re out here, Caleb thinks of a neat sticker: shoes with rocks, stickers, and a tiny bush in them as nature’s trail mix or whatever ingredients make up your favorite path. So if someone beats us to printing these, Caleb is owed a royalty.

No goats for us, but we do see some lovely Brahman cattle on our way to Mesilla Valley Bosque State Park. I had no idea that the Rio Grande ran through here and starts in Colorado. The river covers almost 2,000 miles, most of that between Texas and Mexico, as the 20th longest river in the world, and the 5th longest in North America. The river is critical for bird migration and the vast basin it feeds, but humans feel the need to pull enough water for irrigation that it allows the introduction of invasive plants along with pollution to destroy parts of the eco-systems the river flows through.

It’s quite windy, but once we go past the cute garden area and over the levee to start the trail to the left (the other being closed for construction) that loops by the river (dry with tire marks), the tall grass will be our windbreak. We are also met with trail barriers as many a thorny tumbleweed or the brush beside them cut Caleb’s hands as he clears us a thin path. We’ll learn from the nice employees, front desk lady and groundsman, in the visitor center, after our walk, about why the lake (dammed river) is dry. The reclaimed water that they’re allotted has not been released yet.

Mesilla Valley Bosque State Park

Caleb will carry on with their kind conversation as I have a look around their sufficient display and notice that on a map is Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, just two hours north of here, where I spent Christmas with Dad and Caroline two years ago. A bosque is the forest habitat that’s found along rivers and both of these areas are designated IBA (important bird areas) by Audubon, which established this program in New Mexico in 1999 and has identified 60 areas, large and small, to provide sanctuary to over 340 species in the “Crown Jewel” alone.

As we’re passing through one of the many neighborhoods of Las Cruces, on Locust St., there’s a sign posted: Yield to blind in X-walk. Cars should not hit any pedestrians, whether or not it’s their turn to cross, if they have the brakes and stopping length to do so. This is why I appreciate the crosswalk break in the middle of wide roads for those who take longer to shuffle, wheel, crutch or otherwise get themselves across. I doubt it’s the blind who are running across at night, wearing all dark clothes, where there are no street lights or pedestrian marked paths.

What I didn’t know about Dripping Springs Natural Area is that it’s part of the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument. It was established in 2014 to cover over 496,000 acres of Chihuahuan Desert, ponderosa pined peaks, narrow canyons, flat plains, and a volcanic landscape that’s southwest of here, close to the border with Mexico. It is managed by BLM, not NPS, so I have another website to check for awesome places to see. I thought we just missed the Fillmore Falls, but now we have plenty to come back for and an America the Beautiful pass that gets us in for free while Caleb is active duty.

Organ Mountains

The free annual military pass program started on Armed Forces Day in 2012 and as of Veteran’s Day 2022 all military veterans can receive a free lifetime pass to over 2,000 federal recreation sites. This latest program, the VIP Act, came after the death of Alex Lofgren, a veteran and congressional aide, who said his healing journey included experiencing nature and helping veterans. After he passed in 2021 in Death Valley, this was a way for his girlfriend to honor him and all those he had worked with and continued to support after he was discharged.

People have died…

We have a look around the visitor center with a large poster about The Twelve Orders of Soil Taxonomy and what percentage of ice-free land surface they cover. I could nerd out on that too, but Caleb is looking at the maps of visitors: one of the US and another of the World. Two people came from Greenland, two from Madagascar, and one from Mongolia amongst a mess of others from Puerto Rico, Ghana, Israel, England; and Victoria, Australia. Once we’re done looking around, the ranger asks if we have dogs as that’s a determinant factor of which trails they can go on.

Out and left to get to Dripping Springs. We feel like we have the place to ourselves, and for the most part we will, minus the frat-boy men, a couple, and the woman who points out mule deer by standing frozen while she watched them eat and stare. It was a great time. We pass some outbuildings that used to be signs for wagons, and eventually automobiles, that they were close to camp and a wonderful meal. There will be no food, and is sadly no water in the filled-in reservoir that was built in 1892 to support the 32 guest room hotel.

outbuildings at Dripping Springs

Welcome to Texas, where a wall separates us, a highways joins us, and a sign warns us of unexpected pedestrians in-between. Across the river is a 197-foot tall, bright red X, made by sculptor Enrique Carbajal González in 2013, to honor the first Mexican president’s, Benito Juárez, for whom the city is named after, decision to spell Mexico with an X instead of a J in the 1800s. It’s also a reference to the merging of the indigenous Aztecs and the Spanish cultures in the country with a viewing window so that visitors can look into El Paso and over Ciudad Juárez.

Van Patten’s camp

The entrance to Chamizal National Memorial is beautiful and we drive past an outdoor stage. We look at the mural, painted in 1992 by Carlos Flores, with Marian Anderson, an unnamed white man, and a vague American Indian leader. The latter will last through the 2014 restoration while Neil Armstrong and Barack Obama will be painted over the others to convey the same message as the original – the US is culturally diverse and Americans share a history of astonishing feats, inspirational achievements, and enduring legacies. I’m not sure everyone would agree, but the artist isn’t bad at painting faces.

It is quiet when we walk in, and we will be the only noise inside, or out, during our visit. Ranger Saul lets us walk through the hall, learning about the exchange of statues – Abraham Lincoln in Mexico City and Benito Juárez in Washington, D.C. – in 1966 because “only a truly great people pause to pay tribute to the great of other lands.” – President LBJ. Also in the hallway are 245 “Centennial” and 239 “Find Your Park” pin displays, collected by David Kroese in 2015-2016 for the National Park Service’s 100th anniversary as a thank you to employees, volunteers, and other helpers.

Then Ranger Saul leads us to a room – part waiting room and part living room from the 50s to watch the video about the argument over the Rio Grande as a border as it had shifted in 1864 and both Americans and Mexicans had settled the land that would eventually be split. People had to move in 1964, and were paid by the government for their land, but not their homes, and given the option of which country to relocate to. The countries agreed on a $40 million concrete channel for that four mile portion of the river to reduce the need for another dispute anytime soon.

convenience

I let Ranger Saul know that we were last here in March 2012 and glad to have us back, tells us about the first Thanksgiving in 1598, when the Spanish colonists feasted with the Jumano Indians, and shows us the painting dedicated indefinitely to the park by Hal Marcus in 1993 that is displayed prominently in the lobby. I tried looking for pictures from the last visit, but that would require getting out my hard drives, so maybe in another post I can compare then vs now. We know that Mexico has states, but weren’t able to answer that six of them border the US. I know Africa has countries, but I can’t name all 54 of them.

entrance to Chamizal National Memorial

Ranger Saul says he piloted the 4th grade park program 15 years ago by taking field trips to White Sands and other parks. This would eventually lead President Obama to launching Every Kid In a Park for 12 years in 2015 so that every school-age child would have the opportunity to visit for free. Obama even went further in providing transportation grants to further remove barriers from underserved communities. As great as this idea was, only 120,000 passes were issued for the four million eligible children in the 2021-22 school year. The administration chose fourth graders as they seem to be at the age to start showing interest in the world around them.

pottery by the Tigua Indians

Ranger Saul left an impression on us, so Caleb grabbed his Kids’ Passport (for the parks), and asked him to sign it for sharing his time, knowledge, and love. We were then gifted our first Junior Ranger patches for our willingness to learn and share. We have been to almost 200 parks and monuments and Caleb only has 5% of those visits memorialized with a message. I’m not sure when he got the book, but a lack of interest and conversation on their part (can’t be mad at introverts) won’t keep us from enjoying the museums and outdoors that these places introduce us to.

El Paso Gracias a Dios

Another inspiration comes from a couple’s idea, once they visited Yosemite (it is on my Top 5 favorites, so far), to bring their sons along on a journey to visit all 59 National Parks (there are now 63) before the boys turned 18. They accomplished their goal, got matching tattoos to celebrate, and wrote a book, 59 Before 18, about the six years it took them in hopes of inspiring others to start with a park close to home. Another family finds their expressiveness in their front yard when a man promises to build his wife something beautiful.

Casa de Azucar

We find the Casa de Azucar in Atlas Obscura as the chiseled cement that took Rufino 25 years to complete, starting in 1973, has turned into his masterpiece with themes of religion, hospitality, and nature. I had assumed it would be somewhere different, so I was caught off guard when we parked in front of a house, near the highway, and walked towards the white and light blue home with touches of pink and a maroon roof. I also didn’t expect to see the art expand onto the sidewalk, around the house, and through the garden. I’m surprised in myself now that I didn’t knock to see if the inside had a matching motif.

Texas has so many helpful signs. The next one tells us: Never leave a child or pet alone in a car., so here dogs are allowed to roam in the streets. Now if only we could post those same signs in national parks so that people would stop putting baby bison and elk in their cars. Still in El Paso, we visit the Rio Bosque Wetlands Park, acquired through the federal lands to parks program. The Tornillo Trailhead seems to still be in the planning phases to get to, but there’s a map at the start and a bench with a tree on it. This park is the dumping grounds for treated wastewater that migrating birds find attractive. The pipeline delivering this water is also attempting to return the oxbow to the river that was straightened in the 1930s.

screwbean mesquite

We stop in Van Horn and I wash the windshield and try on a neon yellow fur cap. I’ll show Caleb the photo later and he says we could’ve had another set of matching hats, these being hi-vis too. We stop to make dinner at the next rest stop so we can use the walls as a wind break that we didn’t have at the gas station. We’ve decided to drive to Fort Stockton tonight since we aren’t going to risk another night of lost sleep attempting to settle in a field without a wind barrier. I think there could be a new version of glamping – an app that helps you find rock piles and dirt mounds to hide behind for a good night’s rest.

birds over Rio Bosque Wetlands Park

It’s too bad I didn’t keep track of tonight’s dinner as I thought it was too salty and was glad to have a banana so I didn’t have to eat as many noodles. Caleb has hotel points from staying at fancy places that the Navy pays for. I have motel points from being in a beta program that got a credit card that switched to a “cash” system, so the quality of my offers varies and can be judged poorly based on the bad taste of other visitors who find these places grand for the crimes they’re committing inside. We get to the Atrium Inn at 830, already having paid our $60, and are asked for a card to be kept on file for incidentals.

Atrium Inn

The pictures looked grand, and we’ve been fooled before, but there is a heated pool with a waterfall out our back door. We explore more of this cozy space to find a dirty, half-full cold hot-tub and that one of the two saunas was starting to heat. Back in the room, I’ve stayed at places half the price of this one with the shared microwave securely attached to the wall in the hallway, and yet those rooms still came with a bathroom door. Caleb gets the bathroom sink to stop squealing and we’ll use the kitchen sink to brush our teeth. By incidentals, the clerk meant theft as there’s no minibar, no towels worth stealing, and not sure of in-room entertainment since we didn’t turn the TV on.

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It’s Been Awhile

Posted on December 8, 2023 by TheJessicaness

THURSDAY
It has been over a year since we took a roadtrip, the March and September ones of 2022 perhaps adding up to the distance we planned to cover in two weeks. Our friends, since 2016, just bought a home in Florida which gave us a good place to rest a few days before turning around. We’ll also be bringing a bag of theirs across so it’s less checked luggage for Ryan. I’ll stock up on granola, canned veggies, and some tea for Caleb. I download two books onto my Kindle in preparation for all the reading I plan to do at the end of each day.

As if the car knew what was coming, the oil change light came on Wednesday, so I’ll be the first in line on Thursday morning and out 20 minutes later. We go through the packing list again when Caleb gets home from work and have decided to drive out to Yuma tonight to cover some ground, giving us more time to stop in other places. Traffic is gruesome but my happiness grows as the cars fade and the stars appear and I start to daydream about the beautiful country that I’m about to traverse.. not much I’m seeing in the dark tonight.

Caleb is already yawning, falling asleep to the slow music he chose so I tell him to change it, turn the light on, or nap. He decides to focus on his need to pee for 40 miles until we get to Yuha Well rest stop after careening downhill at 75 in a 65 zone with high winds. The truck speed is 35mph through here. The stop is known as Flat Rocks and was used in 1774 by the Anza Exploring Expedition as a watering spot beyond the Colorado River on their way from Sonora to San Francisco. We find a spot for the night at Pilot Knob BLM and set up the tent in 63*F.

FRIDAY
Caleb wakes me up at 430am when he gets up to pee and says he won’t go back to sleep. We stop at the Chevron on the way to the highway, but they’re closed, so we brush our teeth, cross into Arizona, and stop an hour later (welcome to mountain time) at another gas station. Our first planned stop is still 200 miles away, so luckily we find the Mormon Battalion and Butterfield Trail about halfway in-between. In the meantime, I enjoy the sunrise in the desert and the fog along the fence underlining the mountains as the temperature drops to the 40s.

Also seen from the highway is the field of wall-to-wall solar panels and then the cows standing in dirt with so little space in comparison. I’m glad I don’t have to drive by this scene every day and am grateful for the better views when I used to make this trip more frequently between San Diego and Phoenix to visit my dad, if even just for the weekend. We turn down Old Highway 80 and Caleb makes us coffee before we get to what we think will be a nice morning walk, but there’s no trail at the historic marker, just fence around a nearby factory.

Picacho Peak State Park

The sign tells us that in the 1840s, a bunch of Mormons met in Santa Fe and built wagon roads to San Diego that would later be used as a route for the railroad. The US made the necessary Gadsden Purchase after those men had suffered through patches of shrubbery in desolate deserts with loathsome water to complete the largest infantry march in history. We drive 11 miles to a parking area and walk in a wash that drifts along a drive-through hunting area – so we don’t stay long. We’re off to Picacho Peak State Park.

We pull up to the window, and a lady comes out to take our $7 and give us a map. I pull around the building, park, and go inside so we can discuss the hikes in the area. First on the list is Sunset Vista, with almost 900 feet of elevation difference. We’ll ascend a third of that before we turn around. We’re getting sweaty, forgot the water in the car, and it’s only 64*F. There’s a lot of steps through the field of saguaro in their different phases of life with their arms heavier than they look from storing water. We learn that they are slow growers and start holding out their arms at 75 years old until they die 100 years later.

Yetman Trail

What we, and the scientists who study them, don’t know is how and why the crested saguaros came about their fan-like shape. We’ll be on the lookout for one, but have no such luck. We hike the short Children’s Cave trail but it has a more womanly feature inside its shallow opening. Then we do Memorial Loop to learn more about the Civil War in the Southwest: a wounded Union soldier in Stanwix Station (between here and Yuma) was the farthest western advance of any organized Confederate force.

Bowen Homestead

Having been raised in Texas, my grade school focused more on the great men that influenced the Texas region and George Washington on the east coast; a history lesson where facts were missing to target their agenda and reach test bench marks for statewide stats. Texas schools definitely discussed racism and murder, still popular there today, as Texas led the nation in 2022 in white supremacist propaganda and in 2023 for most mass shootings (incidents involving four or more injuries and deaths) at 59 as of December. *For those wondering about the tangent, I’m connecting my lack of knowledge about the breadth of the Civil War to my lessons on it back in school.

Perhaps students weren’t interested or teachers had no enthusiasm – history wasn’t the only subject. I remember Mrs. Hill’s love for state and country – teaching us about travel in Texas and the Preamble of the Constitution. What I didn’t know was that Texas was the last state to free slaves but the first to commemorate Juneteenth in 1980, a holiday we didn’t celebrate and that wasn’t federally recognized until 2021. Texas is also home to more Black Americans, than any other state, that comprise 13% of the population. When I was in school they made up 11.7% and there was only one, possibly two, kids out of roughly 780 students in our district.

Anywho, the park hosts a reenactment from an event here and two battles from New Mexico every March to recreate conditions of the 1860s. I’m looking forward to our next stop at Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch, but had I done an ounce of research I would’ve realized it’s a tourist trap and not the same sad playground that I remember seeing these mud-faced birds at near Barstow in 2012. We u-turn in their large parking lot and choose to skip Ironwood Forest National Monument due to the detour time, but this would be our loss as apparently a very happy saguaro, with at least 40 arms, lives there.

We find the David Yetman Trail by starting at the Camino de Oeste Trailhead that will take us through private property to the Bowen Stone House Ruins. On the map, this end of the park is near estates and a golf course, but while on the trail, we feel secluded in the desert surrounded by green cacti and bush, brown stones and dirt. The Homestead was built in the 1930s by a couple who had moved from Illinois for a change of climate. They eventually owned 2,000 acres but after their daughter was born in 1943 they moved to New York City and the property was purchased in 1983 and incorporated into Tucson Mountain Park.

former biggest jigsaw puzzle

Barely a mile up the road is the International Wildlife Museum which looks like a theme park castle surrounded by a partial moat. I hope it’s not as tacky inside, but I do prefer strange things. Entrance costs us $16 and is more interesting than I thought it would be. It’s a good thing I’m not as averse to dead animal skins mounted on foam and displayed as I used to be or this place would be a nightmare. There’s a room dedicated to former President Roosevelt whose father co-founded the American Museum of Natural History in 1869, probably to store some of his sons specimens and mounted animals.

A hunting trip in 1883 made him aware of wildlife populations nearing extinction and as president, in 1905, he creates the US Forest Service and the American Bison Society. He goes on to establish 18 National Monuments through the rest of his term. Continuing on, there are 50 bird eggs or models on display. Pointed eggs are more likely to be laid on bare ground in camouflage colors while round eggs will be laid in deep nests and are most likely white. The Lewis woodpecker, named after the famed explorer Meriwether Lewis, is one of few woodpeckers that can catch insects in the air during flight.

The Resplendent quetzal, once worshipped by Aztecs and Mayas, is now the national symbol of the Guatemalans, and is the largest in the trogon (Greek for nibbling, referring to the gnawed holes they make in trees for nests) family. Then there’s the large hall of horned ruminants, bears, and African animals – a hunter’s dream but only slightly fascinating and overwhelming for me. Then we pass by the tower of horned sheep before the dining area, where there’s no food present, and the gift shop, which is ran by the woman at the front desk.

named after Solio Game Reserve in Kenya

I thought Rattlesnake Ranch would have more snakes, and perhaps they do, but they’re hiding from the cold. Luckily, though our Firepot dinners of smoky tomato paella and mac’n’greens were disappointing, we were able to enjoy the metal sculptures at the ranch while we waited for our food to cook. Some of these freeze dried meals from other companies are sometimes bland, the biscuits too dry, or I’m not in the mood for lentils so though their names sounded good I can’t pinpoint what made these bad, except that there must have been at least two factors for us to write these off.

From here, we ride into dusk and reach New Mexico by dark. Foresight says we would’ve been better off stopping at the rest stop at Exit 54 for their lit and covered picnic tables, but we continued on past Sunshine towards the Florida Mountains. Not sure what lies ahead, we pull over and Caleb is able to set the tent up in 16mph winds while I try to get a night sky photo and just end up turning one of our tent stakes into a boomerang. I tripped on it due to its proximity to the car in an attempt to block some of the wind from me.

We’re both tired, but I lay thinking about our time in the Badlands when wind brought in snow. I’m grateful that Caleb staked the tent and that he’s on the windier side, though if I were alone I would’ve just set up in the car and called it a night. We lay there for an hour listening to the dirt flying against the tent and willing ourselves to sleep without luck before we surrendered to a hotel a half hour away with the promise of breakfast in the morning.

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Dreams: July to November 2023

Posted on November 27, 2023 by TheJessicaness

July 7 – I get into a theme park, very early, and am given access through the kids’ hole on a ride that starts with my legs like they’re strapped into a hospital bed, which has bears on some of the cars. After seeing flying reindeer land on a hill outside, we get separated at breakfast, with me seated in the old single ladies section and Caleb left to talk with two guys. I pass his table after telling a guy that he’s making me uncomfortable by how awkwardly close he’s standing while asking me about sports, even though I told him I’m not a fan. I toss something at Caleb and tell him I’ll meet him at the car. As I work my way backwards through the kid-only access, this time with a water on stones theme, I figure it’s only 730 am, so we’ve got time for me to enjoy this park and then go somewhere else.

July 8 – I’m in a glamorous camp with fancy hair and getting treats while we do gymnastics and play catch.

July 10 – A lady finds me hiding in someone’s shed, hoping to sleep for the night, and offers me food. We drive somewhere with others, and I watch them build shoes out of cardboard.

July 13 – I’ve got a guy on my back and my hands on the shoulders of the guy he wants to get his point across to. I tell the guy I’m touching to share his point first and then listen to the guy on my back. He’ll either agree with you, great, or he won’t, but it won’t diminish you. “Share.” Then I woke up. Hopefully, listening to others will broaden our beliefs and make us question ours.

July 15 – I’m with Fallon and the girls and find money stuffed in socks and then paper bags from this homeless bag. We’re in the hood with a bunch of thug-filled cars parked in the area. I drive away like I’m being followed, and this large truck cuts in front of me with the 1.5 lanes available. I realize how lost I am, but keep moving. A few guys are high-fiving other guys in booths, and I don’t want to go through a base checkpoint. They look ahead, stop, and climb into a booth. I don’t know what they saw, but I use this point to turn around.

July 17 – Sparky gets climbed by a baby raccoon.

July 20 – Someone was kind enough to move my car once out of the tow zone, but not the second time. I try using the app to find it, but I don’t have enough signal. Then these guys, one gives me an umbrella, start to escort me somewhere, but I guess one made sure we ditched the other two and had me running up a hill to find my dad and three sisters after seven years. They claim I didn’t grow.

July 21 – I thought I found a British coin, but when I saw it was from Spain, I set it down in front of a tour group for someone else to find. This guy whistles at me, so I go inside, jump some stairs, and then use the commotion outside to hide from him under the stairs. This rich lady is having her herd of dogs walked and says something about half of them, while a giant one nuzzles its nose into my neck, so I put my finger in its mouth in an attempt to get it to stop.

August 16 – I snuck out, but the parents came out, so I ran and ended up at the beach on a large rock in the sand watching a family of snails.

August 22 – I get up under the cover of darkness as Deanna’s voice is rushing me, so I shove remotes in a drawer along with a purse and grab my small bag. I meet Jay at the door with a large camping bag that seems empty. He’ll disappear into a changing room. I’m in a tent with guys and hear the men whisper to go when they possibly think I’m sleeping. As soon as they’re down the hill, I make it partway down. I notice guys in white suits jumping in colorful clouds of smoke, and I return to the sleeping position among the trees near the dried-up lil pond to escape. I can feel the earth move as the enemy walks by. (It might’ve been Caleb next to me in bed.)

August 24 – A bunch of people, close to me but not sure who, broke the law. I thought we were busy getting ready to go to jail, but I just had so much stuff to go through, and my teeth were loose. As I start to look for a box, I realize that they’re all gone, and my mom’s side of the family is showing up for dinner. I wake up and think that maybe they saved me from going instead of leaving me behind, but the last box I saw said 90 years in prison for selling Frosty.

September 3 – I save Sparky from Nana’s escaped iguana, one of her aquariums broke. I forgot to take my shoes off before getting them wet.

Zeus

September 16  – Some guy’s job blows up, so Caleb and I offer to take him to the ER, which leads to going amazingly fast and downhill around very sharp turns. We stop somewhere to walk up this winding ramp, and though I want to get video, there’s someone in the way. These two boys want to play, but I dump their pennies back in their hoodie pocket.

September 18 – A Hollywood actor, like Brad Pitt, shows me his ‘All fall apart’ tattoo… families, relationships, our bodies.

October 6 – I park in a mall parking lot and try to take the train, which I think will be a half hour to Caleb, but when I ask about the airport, it’s in Blythe, so I know I’m lost. I go inside, and this guy wants to have some special Asian meat dinner. He’s in a kimono with red and black Jordans. I feign stomach upset and get out in a hurry. This guy shows me a shortcut through the police station, and I end up near some villas. I ask for directions to the parking lot, and I crouch-run through to avoid being seen.

October 10 – I’d just been invited to eat with two people, and he made us coffee. I was worried about getting out of the house, but then I was walking home on a darkening trail when I saw a snake jump up next to an electric pole like a bolt of lightning. I was sure to step around the next one on my path, but then he moved quickly, and I woke up fast.

October 12  – I’m a criminal being transported. There’s a large man covered in sea-themed tattoos, and one of my guards thinks it’s funny to push me off the boat to swim to shore, so I bring back hotdog-tasting candy and a souvenir as we get back to sea. We were limited to a small cabin until someone went through a hidden door and exposed the nicer part of the boat.

October 14  – I’m a scientist, or something in the field, and Ryan is carrying me sideways, through a forest with Brooke running beside him till we get to the family shelter. They’re having a picnic after a scare near our center. I return to the field without the crew and help a kid get himself out of a small window while I grab the smelly other thing that we just learned of and start to run.

November 4 – Caleb and I stop at a small town country bar, their bathroom is a sandpit out back, and the door makes no sense because it’s open space. I went out there after Caleb ordered dessert before dinner since it was taking a while. It was a two-hander glass with a cake slice over lemon slices and filled with a lite beer.

November 6 – I stay the night at Mrs Melton’s and am up late taking care of kids. I’m on my way out the door, but forgot my shoes. I’ll come back with Caleb for my book, and Fallon calls because she’s saving my car from being towed. At some point, Barbara is telling me how she wouldn’t work for the family farm when she can make more money elsewhere.

November 20 – I send Caleb off with a lady hike guide and some other people. I let the car follow them, but soon it’s pouring rain, so I end up on a bike with Peanut and have no idea where to stay for the night until a guy offers to help get me back to the earlier campsite. I panic when I see the dog-free basket, but bend the gate funny so she can finish squirming underneath and back into my arms.

November 25 – I meet Miley Cyrus in a busted hotel so she can hide before we go to a show where she’s one of four performing. The audience didn’t realize it was her until they started moving closer. I saw the first guy rise through the stage and remembered my phone in my bag so many rows away.

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