One-legged Polishing

My knee, injured on August 2nd, is bothersome but as I await surgery next week, I can do some polishing.  I pretty much have finished the top half of the Airstream and now can work, sitting in a chair, on the lower panels.  I take it 45 minutes at a time and rest a lot -- but it's good to see some continued progress.

I know I'll be disabled again after next Tuesday's arthroscopic procedure and lose a few weeks while I recover so I've been pecking away, keeping the weight and pressure off my bad leg.

It's still very slow going.  There is a lot of residual flecks of clearcoat that have to be removed, slowing the process a lot.  Some are really stubborn -- but I've learned to use solvent, even fine steel wool.  What I'm finding is that the lower sections are pretty dinged up -- lots of road rash -- but they polish up pretty well.  I have taken off the one protective panel on the front since the other is long gone on the roads outside Houston, and replacements are very pricey.

The squiggles are reflections in the morning sun -- it looks ok with just the first pass of polishing. 

I'll work on it a few hours more before surgery and then see how things go.  I can always head out this winter with work to do and polish the rest down south.  There are times where I question why I ever started this but all in all, it was a good move.  The injury has put a crimp in the schedule but the worst is over.

I have started to do some preliminary planning for our trip this year -- reviewing places we like and places we'll never visit again.  Now we have to get both of us tuned up and ready to travel.  We are keeping our doctors' cash flow flowing -- they'll likely all take great winter vacations.  Safe traveling.

The Last Mile

The trip home was long but easy -- until the last day. All we had to grumble about were the school breaks in Texas and Louisiana which clogged the state parks on weekends. We cruised up the Natchez Trace, enjoying great weather, and survived I-81 through Knoxville and spent a wonderful evening at Lake Claytor State Park in Virginia. Sitting under a tree in shorts watching the lake, we knew that this was the last time for this in a few months. Little did we know....

Tuesday, we decided to cut a day off the trip and made a rather long drive to a Walmart in Pennsylvania where we had stayed before. It was cold and windy but we had a restful night although I did awake once and here a little sleet or something on the roof. Early that morning, we noted that the windows were fogged up and opening the door, saw about three inches of wet snow with snow coming down hard. Of course, all our winter boots and coats were buried in the back of the truck.

After walking the dog -- who like us could not believe the conditions -- we did some online checking and it didn’t look good. The Walmart folks had big plows going all around us but traffic was moving and the temperature was about 29.

At first, it looked like we’d have to stay. With no wifi, we were checking weather via our IPhones and the forecasts further north looked better. We decided to give it a try.

The first hour or so on I-81 was dicey with tractor-trailers driving like it was July spraying us with slush. We chugged along on wet roads as the salt did it’s thing. After an hour or so, we pulled off in a rest stop -- to encounter a jammed exit. A truck had broken down and another, trying to get around it, had got hung up. It looked like we’d be spending hours stuck in line. Fortunately, after about 30 minutes, the drivers got things cleared and we were heading north, into improving weather.


It was a long drive and we were tired when we hit Vermont. The temperatures were just under freezing so I thought (wrong!) that the dirt roads and driveway would be frozen.

We have a tough driveway even in good weather. It’s a situation where once you start up the road with an Airstream, you are committed -- there is no place to turn around on the whole road. Well, we started up, regretting it at once as we saw the mud and ruts. We only have to climb several hundred yards and then make a sharp right turn uphill. I got to the turn and knew that we were dead meat - it was way too narrow. Committed, I gave it a try in four wheel drive but soon was completely hung up, with the Airstream completely blocking Wood Road and the truck stuff in the driveway. We were sick.

Soon, traffic began backing up on both sides of us as I tried to find our shovel -- which was, like our boots, buried in the back under all sorts of gear. Several guys who live up the hill offered to help and I got my Kubota going and tried to clear out the banks. It was too tight and I came very close to hitting the truck with the bucket, several times. I thought we might be stuck for hours or longer.

Someone suggested trying to pull with the Kubota which does not have chains but is 4WD. We got my logging chain hitched to the front of the Ford, and a neighbor got in the truck to drive it, and very tentatively and slowly, we pulled the truck and trailer out of the road and all the way up the driveway to the top. I couldn’t believe it -- and didn’t worry about some bent stuff under the trailer -- we can fix that in the spring.





So, after driving 6500 miles or so, the last quarter mile was the worst. We are fortunate to have good neighbors and a tractor that earned its keep. We also learned a good lesson -- either leave the Airstream elsewhere or come home later next year. So it may be April in 2012.

3 Days on the road & gonna settle down tonight

After waiting out the storms and dealing with the electrical problems noted in my last post, we launched early Friday morning with the temperature holding below 10 degrees. The first trick was to get down our snowy driveway. I took it easy, in first gear, but halfway down, the truck and trailer all started sliding with brakes full on and I just got it down and around the corner and could then slow down on the sanded Wood Road. Fortunately, it was very early and no one was coming down the hill in the dark. Once our heart rates slowed, we trundled down through sleepy Montpelier and had an uneventful drive down to Bethel, Killington, and up over Mendon Mountain. Roads were dry, snow flurries were minimal, and traffic was light.

The first day brought us down to Albany and then down I-88 to Binghamton. We then join the rat race south with truckers headed home on Friday and driving like crazy. With gas stops (we paid $3.30 a gallon at a ripoff joint on I-88) every 180-200 miles, my debit card was getting a workout. We made it as far as Chambersburg and stayed at a Walmart in very cold conditions. There was a Hoss’s restaurant on site so we ended up having a good dinner storing up calories for the night ahead.

The Airstream, when operating on battery power, is heated with a propane heater up at one end. It’s not easy to get the sleeping end heated when it’s 15 degrees so it was not the most comfortable night we’ve spent. We tanked up on coffee in the morning and were again on the road before seven.

Saturday is a good day to travel. The truck traffic is reduced as is commuter travel. We were out of Pennsylvania at once and zipped through the ends of Maryland and West Virginia and then spent a lifetime in Virginia. I-81 has some pretty scenery through this stretch and we thought we’d got out of the snow cover -- but after an hour of bare ground, we came back into where last week’s storm had dumped a lot.

Knoxville is a tough city to negotiate, even on a weekend. The merging of interstates, the ever-present trucks, and some event at UT made this trip through town stressful. We decided to stop at the Walmart in Athens, Tennessee, having called ahead for permission.

I had talked to a local cop patrolling the parking lot -- just letting him know we would be there overnight, with permission. We had a nice chat about Vermont and he told me to call them if we noticed any problems. Well, for a bit, I thought we’d have to take him up on it. For an hour or so, several hot cars seemed to be doing laps around the parking lot with loud engines, tire squealing, and lots of sitting, idling, and whatever. The scene quieted about 9:00 and I later figured that the kids were waiting for buddies working in the tire/lube section of Walmart.

Today was a relatively easy Sunday drive -- if you call driving 370 miles hauling a trailer easy. The traffic was ok and we negotiated Chattanooga and Birmingham and then encountered a stretch of concrete highway that was hell. It reminded me of the NY Thruway where decades of truck traffic had trashed the right lane, leaving the left lane relatively smooth. The road was horrible -- I was very concerned about the trailer tires. So, we drove 20-30 miles primarily in the left lane -- watching the mirrors as best we could. Of course, we then hit construction and had a twelve mile stretch with only one lane -- the right one -- and it was painful. The truck and trailer did ok in spite of the thumping.

The rest of the journey, through Tuscaloosa and into Mississippi, was easy. We have stopped at a state park in Clarksdale where for the first time, we can activate the water system and have power. There’s no one here -- just a couple of families -- and it’s a good place to bird and run the dog. We’ll catch our breath for a few days before moving on to Louisiana.

The park in just south of Meridian, Mississippi. I learned to fly jets at NAS Meridian many years ago and we live in Meridian during the height of the civil rights movement. We were sort of insulated from the events but did get a taste of southern attitudes from our neighbors -- so the airfield has good memories for me but the town still leaves a bad taste in our mouths. We may check out the air station while we are here -- just for nostalgia’s sake. And find a wifi hotspot.

Bringing a Boat Along This Time

On the trip last year to the Southwest, we were surprised at how many times we were next to bodies of water: the Gulf of Mexico, Falcon Reservoir, Choke Canyon Reservoir just to name a few. It made us wish that we had our kayaks along. I have been thinking about the drag of two kayaks plus the Airstream and asked my brother Barry, a seasoned Airstreamer, what he and Mica did for a boat since I knew that they had paddled in Florida and along the Gulf Coast in their travels.

He told me that they often carry a small canoe -- that they would worry too much about the expensive kayaks during a trip -- but then said, "Why don't you take our folding kayak - it'll just be sitting down cellar this winter?" I thought about it, did some research on Folbots, and took him up on the offer.

So yesterday, he drove over and dropped off the big bags of equipment and gave me a tutorial in our living room. (I had pulled an operations/assembly manual off the internet and done some reading, knowing my struggles in the past in putting together tents.)

He walked me through the process and I took some photos of specific steps but we will see. Everything is marked and it seems straight-forward but I am going to assemble it one more time by myself downstairs before we load up. Even then, I suspect my language will attract a crowd at the campground down south when I first lay out the parts and hope to end up with a boat. It also will be the first time that Mary and I have paddled a kayak together. Stay tuned.

Planning The Winter Trip

As the trees lose their leaves here in Vermont, we start thinking about heading out once again this winter to the Southwest. So it's time to crank up Google and Mapquest and lay out some options.

This year, I want to head toward Pensacola first to revisit the place I started my flight training decades ago. The Naval Air Museum, which I visited briefly many years ago, is high on our list of must-see places. I was in the NAS Cubi Point Officers' Club in the Philippines during several Vietnam deployments and the Cafe at the museum has a replica of the bar and many of the hundreds of squadron plaques.

The start of the trip, now planned for early January, is probably the toughest part of the journey. Not only will the Airstream be winterized with anti-freeze in the systems, the weather is often dicey. There are some high spots on I-88 between Albany and Binghamton and the stretches of I-81 until you drop into the Harrisburg area can get a lot of wind and snow. We're planning to watch for a weather opening and drive to Harrisburg the first day -- perhaps the longest drive.

Right now, I've got stops planned at state parks at Warrior's Path State Park in Tennessee and Oak Mountain State Park in Alabama. We're planning to stay for a while at Fort Pickens campground on the Gulf Islands National Seashore. Weather and conditions permitting, we'll use that as a base for visiting Pensacola sites. With a wood fire going behind me, it's kind of nice to think about -- three months from now.

No Smiley Face from McDonald's

Throughout our trip to the Southwest, we were careful about cornering and getting caught in tight spaces with the Airstream. Many a time, we passed up a gas station because it looked too tight to get in and out of the pumps. Anyone who pulls a trailer or drives a big rig knows: you've got select your food and gas stops a little more carefully.

We did very well until the last day of the trip. We'd found that McDonald's for coffee often worked well -- the coffee is passable and there is usually room to park the truck trailer. Well, we pulled of I-81 north of Scranton at a little burg called Clarks Summit, which has a strip with many of the ubiquitous service and food outfits. We saw a McDonald's and after a tough left turn, pulled in. We parked and I could see right away that it was a mistake -- there was no exit on the "drive-around" side.

To cut to the chase -- after getting some breakfast, we carefully circumnavigated around the facility and made a sharp turn out to the access road. Too sharp, as it turned out. When we got home, we noticed paint down the right side of the Airstream. We never heard a thing but Mary remembered seeing a pole over there as we left.

So, once the weather is warmer, it will be time to take out the lacquer thinner (which seems to work) and get the blemish removed, or at least looking better. It sort of matches a crease the former owner put on the other side. I'm glad it is a 1999 Airstream and not a 2009 model. It's a little road rash but we'll see how it turns out when cleaned up, washed, and polished. Just another item on the "to do" list for this Spring.
If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts

Wal*Mart -- Tough Love

As a Vermonter and a “buy local” advocate, I’ve always had a dislike of Wal*Mart. Their politics are too red, their treatment of employees is less than stellar, and their gaffes (firing a guy for medical marijuana - telling all “black people” to leave the store) just don’t seem to stop. The company, worth more than many smaller nations of the world, has centers and stores in virtually any city of size in the U.S. That’s bad news for downtowns and small merchants -- it’s good news for travelers.

Yes, having spent two months on the road, I have a new appreciation of the attractiveness of this giant corporation. I’ve blown dust off cans of vegetables in small groceries, been appalled at the lack of healthy food -- even whole wheat bread -- and struggled to find spare parts in local hardware stores. On the other hand, with Wal*Mart, which is everywhere, we can get Cabot Cheese and Stonyfield yogurt in Texas or Louisiana, find Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and fresh produce, and use clean restrooms. They layouts are fairly standard so you know right away where the auto parts are, where the pet food is, and don’t have to orient yourself each time just to find skim milk.
Another big issue is parking -- when you are pulling an Airstream, the expansive parking lots are welcome. Wal*Mart, to their credit, allows RV’s to park overnight. This is a big deal when you are traveling and just needing a safe place to rest for a bit. Sure, you deal with bright lights and traffic noise but it’s safe, free, and available all over the country.

It is depressing to see roadsides and fields littered with white plastic bags -- many of them from Wal*Mart. As a birdwatcher, more than once I’ve spotted a white object in a tree, on a cactus, on a body of water -- and of course, it’s not a cattle egret or snowy egret -- it’s trash. Wal*Mart adds to the problem through their "bag everything that isn't walking" approach although one could argue that people who litter will toss whatever container/bag they have.

So, back in Vermont, we will buy our coffee from Capitol Grounds in Montpelier, our meat from the local co-op, and shop locally for essentially everything. But we now have a new appreciation, whether we like to admit it or not, for the cleanliness, the lower prices, and the good inventory of the ubiquitous Wal*Mart network. They will likely be key elements of our future road travel -- outside Vermont.
If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts

Come On Baby - Don't Light My Fire

Stepping out of the Airstream at seven this morning to walk the dog, I noticed a neighbor at the nearly-deserted Tennessee campground stirring his campfire and adding wood. What's with this fascination with wood fires? Last night, several groups sat around in lawn chairs, wearing parkas, staring at their campfires. It was 45 degrees out.

I've studied the fire habits of folks in campgrounds throughout the Southwest -- and am still amazed at the efforts folks go to. The state campgrounds in Texas are denuded of firewood and camp hosts sell bundles. Lots of folks bring it with them, even though it's prohibited. I saw a big motor home the other day with a half-cord of split wood in a side compartment.

The Texas bass fisherman at Choke Canyon probably win the prize. They put their money into big bass boats so most of them tent camp. They have roaring bonfires and laugh and drink half the night -- and aren't the best neighbors.

The Louisiana fisherman we saw a few days ago are also pretty avid. They camp in clusters of motorhomes/trailers and between the lights hanging up and the roaring fires, it looks like broadway. Country music wailing and loud talk complete the scene -- fortunately we were parked far away.

A Louisiana guy told me that he'd camped at our site earlier -- and had left me some firewood. I told him, "I heat with wood all winter -- so we don't do campfires." He understood.

So, no smoky clothes in the Airstream. I suspect, once we get the grandkids to come along, we'll be back at the fire, 'smores, and scary story scene again. Till then, we'll leave the firewood for others and admire their work ... from afar.

Photo by wili_hybrid

On Turning 70

One of the reasons for this Southwest adventure was to celebrate the fact that we were both turning 70 this year -- and sure enough, like clockwork, I did so on March 9th. (MRM has months & months to go.) It was a wonderful day -- perhaps the best we’ve had climate-wise and relaxation-wise.

We’re at the Sam Houston National Forest, about 40 miles north of Houston, surrounded by tall pine trees. After the onslaught of kids last weekend at our last site, it’s nice to have peace and quiet and few campers. We leave tomorrow for a couple of state parks in Louisiana as we start the trek northeastward.

Frankly, I’m still a bit surprised to be seventy. I remember years ago in Syracuse, when I was doing a lot of road racing in my early forties, knowing some of the “ old farts” who plodded along toward the end of the pack. I admired them, wrote a couple of magazine articles about one of them -- and now find that I’m one of them. It is a new age group -- always one perk of turning a new decade for runners, skiers, paddlers, etc.

I got a nice early birthday present here: I added the red-cockaded woodpecker, an endangered bird, to my life list. This forest is one of a few in the south that supports this bird, which needs specially-managed pine habitats to survive. They nest in living pine trees and are rather rare. I knew they were around here, but scarce -- and was advised that early morning and dusk were the best times to try to see them.

There’s a place with some known nests about a mile from here so I went up on Monday night to take a look. It was showery and I had the Vizsla with me -- not exactly great birding conditions. After spending some time traipsing around and dodging showers, and seeing nothing, I decided to try a bird call from my iPhone. (I don’t like to do this because I’ve heard that it can confuse the birds but thought -- this is probably the only time I’ll be here...) Well, no sooner had I played the call from the iBird app when two woodpeckers repeated it. I was astounded -- and saw one fly by and then saw another one land on a pine tree not far away. I got a great look -- the bird is sort of like a downy woodpecker without the white on the back. It matched the drawings I’d studied and of course, the call was also the same. I was psyched. I’d stepped on the dog’s leash and she was patient as I watched the woodpecker for 10 minutes or more.

My birthday started, as most of our days do, early. We had coffee and yogurt in our separate beds reading email, blogs, and news feeds on our iPhones. (I wonder how many 70-year-olds start their day that way -- perhaps more than we think.)

I took Penny for a nice walk on the woods loop where she can run freely and then decided to take a birthday run. I wanted to do 7 miles for 70 but since I haven’t been running much this trip, opted for an hour. It wasn’t pretty but felt pretty good -- and a nice start to the day.

Our daughter Jen, unbeknownst to me, had arranged an email blitz and I got many emails and Facebook greetings. Several cellphone calls and messages and a text message or two. It was great hearing from folks and it made me realize once again why the Post Office is losing money. One package (which was wonderful) and one note but the rest all electronic.

We had an easy day, enjoying the wonderful weather, and opted to cook out rather than drive 20 miles to a restaurant. (Mary took me for a birthday lunch -- which was delightful -- the next day.)

It’s wonderful to celebrate this milestone with Mary, my friend and partner ... and Penny, who with her constant need for exercise and attention, keeps me moving.

5 Pounds of Possum

Last night, when we were listening to a local bluegrass band playing at a chilly outdoor amphitheater at Brazos Bend State Park, they did a number titled “5 Pounds of Possum in my Headlights Tonight.” It’s a cute song about a working mom with no money, an empty refrigerator, and a supper opportunity -- as the title says. I suspect PETA has not approved the song. It reminded me that we are in Texas .. a long way .. in many ways, from Vermont.

So,
you know you’re in Texas:

.. when a bluegrass band plays Five Pounds of Possum in my Headlights Tonight.

.. when empty plastic bottles rattle around the back of the pickup since no one recycles. We’ve only found one Texas State Park with containers and all there seems to be are out-of-the-way municipal sites .. not easy to reach when hauling an Airstream.

.. when 12-foot-long alligators snooze on the bike path bank. Now that gets a Vermonter’s attention. (There are 300 adult alligators in Brazos Bend State Park ... but who's counting?)


.. when you check out groceries and the register beeps and refuses to sell you beer -- because it’s Sunday and you can’t buy beer until 1:00 P.M.

.. when all you can get on the truck radio is country/western music and religious broadcasting.

-- when barbecue is not what you do, but what you eat

-- when only the state flag is flying over the visitors center (we decided not to ask why)

We’ve enjoyed Texas: the weather, the people, the birds and the wildlife. The Texas State Park system is excellent with better facilities than Vermont parks. Yet the reports of early spring days back home are starting to tug at us and I can sense how the robins and redwing blackbirds might feel -- it’s time to start making plans to head north.


If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts

Northern Wheatear

I've been reading on the Texas birdlist about the daily sightings of the Northern Wheatear in Beeville, Texas. This caught my eye because as I noted in a past posting, we have ties to Beeville.

This bird, a resident of the far north, should be wintering in Africa with the rest of its buddies. How it arrived at John's (an Amish farmer) field is Texas is anyone's guess but fortunately, he's an amateur birder and identified it -- and soon experts from all over were coming and verifying it. It's been seen about every day right out behind his house.

We were planning to go right by the site on our way to Goliad State Park so I decided to take the six mile detour and see if I could spot it -- figuring it's definitely the only chance I'll ever have.

We parked the truck and Airstream by the road and I walked in the ramshackle farm operation. A young birder from Central Texas was there and as I signed the book, I saw addresses from all over the country. He had a big telephoto but had not yet seen the bird.

We watched dozens of meadowlarks (eastern or western -- not sure) and other birds and I was getting discouraged -- the breeze was stiff and Mary and Penny were waiting.

Then I saw an Amish buggy coming down the road toward the truck and thought, "Oh no, Penny!" It was too far to run to the truck to warn Mary and I didn't have my iPhone and soon I heard Penny go ballistic, saw the horse shy away from the truck, and thought, "Oh great, what a nice introduction." The buggy turned in the lane and soon I was apologizing but John and the two women he was training to drive, were fine.

Just then, the guy with the camera said, "Did you see it?" And of course, I hadn't. The bird had popped up on a tank - he'd snapped one shot -- and off it went into the weeds. About five or ten minutes went by and I was getting bummed when up it came, perching about 10 feet from me on an old tank. I got a wonderful view with the binoculars as the guy shot dozens of shots. The bird sort of posed, moving around the tank, giving us side views, front views, until it got sick of it and moved off. We were psyched.

As you can see, the bird is not spectactular except in its rarity. It was a great experience for an amateur birder. So with the Roadside hawk, the Jacana, the groove-billed Ana, and the Wheatear, I've added some pretty rare birds to my list. The total list, modest at the start, has grown by over 100 birds this trip.

If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts
photo by seabarium

Texas Haircut

I’ve always enjoyed small town barber shops -- usually the price is right and it’s fun to go through the “who are you, stranger?” grilling. Yesterday, feeling a bit shaggy, I asked the operator of the laundromat in Three Rivers, Texas where I could get a haircut -- and was not looking for a “foo-foo styling outfit.” She gave me directions to a little one-room operation not far away -- where a retired barber (over 80 years old) cuts hair in a little annex off his house.

I drove into his narrow drive, parked behind a Texas pickup, and walked into a museum of Texas artifacts -- and attitudes. The guy in the chair was over 80 as well and they were talking “Obamacare” and how their Medicare was going go get cut to pay for abortions, etc. You get the picture: right out of Rush, Glen Beck, and the rest of the wing-nuts. They went on for a bit and I just glanced at a year-old magazine and bit my tongue. Bubba, a local pipeline guy, came in with his pressed jeans and clean shirt -- dressed for town. He joined right in but pretty soon, at one point saying, “I don’t know anyone who voted for him -- it’s all those kids and Easterners.” I decided that a political debate would get nowhere and kept quiet; soon the subject changed to some local writer who wrote about the area.

The shop was amazing in decor -- if you are into stuffed animals. Several big deer heads, a javelina, a bobcat, and a few other critters lined the little space. A Colt 45 was in a case, with a Bowie knife, and all sorts of old posters and paraphernalia. The background music was country/western (big surprise) and the old boy did a good job cutting hair. We talked a little about gas/oil leases, winter Texans (which is what they call snowbirds down here), and where I could get an oil change for the truck.He did the whole nine yards: shave around the edges, lotion, powder, and all for seven bucks.

I told them that our daughter was born over in Beeville, Texas. I didn’t bother to tell them that she’s a MA liberal who works for the American Friends Service. They knew I was from Vermont -- it would be fun to have a tape of the conversation once I left the place. Texas is a red state -- and man, from everything I’ve heard down here, won’t be changin’ anytime soon.

Hunkered Down

A cold front with cold rain and wind is hitting us -- after a stretch of nice weather. This is a day to find some wifi at the local library and pay some bills. We drove yesterday from the border up to Choke Canyon State Park -- which is a big reservoir which provides water for Corpus Christi.
This place is teeming with wildlife -- as you can see from the 8-pointer who just stared at us as we drove by. It’s an iPhone photo so we were close.

I had a chance to see the rare Northern Jacana which has been hanging around for a few weeks -- and used the spotting scope of a fellow birder to get a good look. I had the glasses on him when he flew with a wonderful flashing of yellow flight feathers. (Mary & I saw him up close this morning)

The interior of the Airstream stays toasty but the condensation builds up on windows and doors on days like this. Penny is sacked out on the couch beside me, snoring away. She has a bunny out back which has caught her interest and I think she’s chasing it as her legs move in doggy dreams.

We’re back in the land of TV in English, having only had two Spanish stations down at Falcon. However, whether in Spanish or English, it’s all pretty mindless. We are fortunate to get a public broadcasting station for our Newshour fix. Between blogs and Huffpost, we keep up to speed on the iPhones. I read the Times-Argus and Brattleboro Reformer online to stay up with VT issues.

Off to the big town of Three Rivers which doesn’t have much but does have a library and laundromat -- the essentials of life for Airstream (and other RV) owners.

If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts

The Rare Roadside Hawk

As part of my preparation for our SW trip, I joined birder email groups in Tennessee, Louisiana, and Texas. One of the big deals for the last ten days has been the roadside hawk, a rare species from Mexico, that showed up at Falcon State Park.

I’m not that serious a birder, but getting more serious, and that sort of locked in our next destination from Goose Island. This place is right on the Mexico border, next to a big international reservoir, and full of birds and birders. People drive here just to try to see the hawk.

Yesterday was our first day here (it’s a nicely laid-out park filled with Canadians and folks from Wisconsin, Minnesota, and elsewhere north. Very few New Englanders.

I was out walking Penny just after dawn (which comes here late so far west in the Central time zone) when a car stopped and asked me if I knew where the roadside hawk was. I passed on some news I’d heard about possible locations and returned for breakfast. Later that morning, they drove slowly by again -- still no hawk.

A little later, I was talking with our Oklahoma neighbors (who have been coming here for 23 years) when the same car stopped, rolled down the window and reported, “He’s down by the recreation area in the top of a tree.”

I grabbed my binoculars and walked down in that direction. Passing the recreation hall, a young man asked me if I had heard of any hawk sightings and soon he and his parents were walking with me down the road, where up ahead, we saw a small group of birders set up. (It turns out that my companions had driven over from Louisiana just to get to see the bird -- every day a bunch more show up.) Sure enough, the young hawk was sitting in full view in a big bare tree, easily visible by binoculars. I could make out the striping and coloration but when I had a chance to look through a spotting scope, it was even more remarkable. He posed for ten minutes or so and then flew off, not to be seen the rest of the day.Later, while watching birds at a feeding location, Penny suddenly bristled and growled and lo and behold, a javelina sauntered out and started eating dropped bird seed. The iPhone picture doesn’t really capture how close he was.

We are seeing some amazing birds -- most of whom never get up our way. Green jays are spectacular as is the vermillion flycatcher. Today we saw all three orioles resident here: altimira oriole, Audobon oriole, and the hooded oriole. Visiting a sanctuary filled with golden-fronted woodpeckers, Great Kiskadoos, and orioles reminded me of the first time I snorkeled in tropical water. It was sensory overload.

So, Mary and I have given up snow for Lent. But we are reveling in the wonders of this part of our country.

Roadside hawk photo by Wagner Machado Carlos Lemes
Green jay photo by JunCTio

If you enjoyed this article, then please subscribe to our RSS feed or via email to receive all new posts

‘Gators & Wild Pigs

South Texas has a little bit of everything. We’ve been taking short trips from our Goose Island base -- the other day we went up to Port Aransas to pick up our forwarded mail. It was a rainy blustery day as we lined up to ride the free ferry across the channel. There was a slight delay in leaving and then a long string of barges crossed in front of us. It’s hard to get used to the scale of things here: freight trains are often miles long and barges likewise are long and slow.

Yesterday we visited Aransas National Wildlife Area which is about a 35 mile drive. I don’t think we changed elevation more than ten feet the whole way - that to cross streams - and most of it was straight as an arrow. It was a little like driving from Burlington, VT to Rutland with nothing but flat land all the way. Massive black dirt field lie in wait of spring planting -- and way across them, you could see cars and trucks moving like mirages. I remember these roads from flying here -- it was easy to pick a straight road and line up for a maneuver over it, be it a loop or a simulated landing pattern.

Aransas NWA is internationally-known for wintering Whooping Cranes and all sorts of wildlife. We took one of the drives and part way through it, two deer were beside the road. An Iowa SUV filled with people, stopped dead in the road and just sat there -- seemingly for ever -- taking pictures. Mary & I were fuming. “This isn’t an African safari, folks, we said in the car -- heck, we’ve got deer in the back yard at home.” After a long time, the deer moved, the SUV started crawling along, and I was able to pass. It wasn’t a great start -- but things did get better.

At the observation tower, we saw some pretty spoonbills and white egrets. Mary noted some black things moving in the scrub brush. I at first thought they were bears -- they were the same color and size of black bears -- but when I saw their ears, I knew they were javelinas. First we’ve ever seen -- and it was great to be 100’ above them with Penny asleep in the car.

Returning to the center, we saw some interesting birds: common moorhen, common yellowthroat, coot, etc. Then Mary said, “There are two alligators right there.” And sure enough, as advertised, a couple of pretty good-size gators were just lying there in the swamp -- not moving -- nearly invisible.

Last night, on a long walk with Penny, I watched grey pelicans line up for fish scraps from a guy cleaning fish at the boat ramp. They sat there until he finished a fish and they leaned foreward with a “pick me” attitude as he tossed the goodies to them. A couple of heron gulls hung around looking for extra parts.
The weather is better today -- it’s been a little chilly by South Texas standards. We’ve leaving in the morning for Falcon State park down by the border. Supposed to have some real interesting birds found nowhere else in U.S. It’s forecast in the high seventies down there late next week. We’ll see.

Trailer light gremlins

Our ongoing saga of blown fuses and battery draining continues. My brother Barry and his spouse Mica hooked up with us at Goose Island the other day before they headed west (we have decided to hang around this area for now rather than heading to Big Bend.) Barry is an Airstream whiz, having renovated two old trailers from scratch and working on all the electrical, plumbing, and gas systems. He brought his tools and we spent the afternoon poking, testing, and drawing blanks for solutions.

The trailer running lights come on for about five seconds and then go off when the trailer is hooked up to the truck. We have power from the truck for the lights and traced the line into the trailer into some sort of relay/splitter under the couch. Barry is slim and crawled under the couch with his test light and found that the line going out of the splitter seemed dead. We sort of gave up, buttoned up, and had a nice dinner together. Here's his followup guidance to me:

Just a recap, the green wire into the trailer stays hot to a small box of 4 wires, green out, black, and red. Black wire on box is ground. Red wire is hot, don't know what it is. Green wire out may go to a junction of wires to various running lights. If you can find that junction unhook all wires and start hooking up one at a time to see if you can find the problem. Good luck.

So, for now we don't drive at night. All other lights are working. And the project of sorting out the malfunctions continue. Fortunately, the days are getting longer.

Beeville’s changed -- have we?

We took a magically memory trip yesterday up to Beeville, Texas where we lived during flight training. The trip up from Aransas Pass was flat and fast -- 70 mph four-lane with direct access and suddenly-appearing stop signs. We saw fields of elegant windmills slowly turning in the stiff Texas wind.

We spent about nine months in Beeville while I took advanced naval flight training in the F9F Cougar and then a short finish course in the then-hot F-11 Tiger. We carrier-qualified in the F9 and had a blast dog-fighting in the afterburner-equipped Tiger. The goal of this visit was to see if we could find our old residence, the hospital where our daughter Jennifer was born, and the air station. One out of three accomplished!

Beeville is a city of about 15,000 just north of Corpus Christi. We used our GPS mapping on the iPhone to find Rosewood Avenue where we rented during our stay there. We found the street, which seems a little seeder four decades later and took this photo of the house we think we lived in - we weren’t sure of the address.
The hospital was tougher. It was a little adobe-faced country hospital when Jennifer was born. I decided to ask at the big local hospital about it and after a few questions, I found a person in the gift shop who had had a child there a year or two after we left. She told me that it was demolished a while back and that a vacant lot now marked the spot. We talked about how progressive the hospital had been -- Dr. Miller let me observe the delivery of our baby -- and she then led me down the hall to a photo gallery where a picture of that wonderful doctor hung. I took a picture as a memory and it tugged at Mary’s heart when she saw it.

Mary & I found the spot, took a picture of the lot, and then asked at a gas station about directions to the air station. “Oh, that’s a prison system now,” the clerk said. “The Navy pulled out about ten years ago.” Oh well, I was wondering why I hadn’t seen any Navy jets around.

It was a nice trip -- and we weren’t really surprised to see all the changes. We saw a bunch of Crested Cara Caras on the way home and made plans to visit Corpus Christi in the days ahead. It’s pretty cold for this area and good weather to sightsee.

Birder Heaven

Leaving Lake Charles, LA, we joined the trucks and RVs on I-10 heading toward Beaumont, Texas. We had decided not to tackle the Houston traffic, given our trailer’s propensity to blow turn signal fuses, and went north on a series of state roads, seeing some of the not-so-touristy side of the Gulf Coast.

Hardscrabble farms and tired towns, with some bright spots. We stopped to pick up some barbecue at a newly-opened restaurant in Conroe, ate it in the trailer at a vacant store parking lot (while the Vizsla napped in the truck), and motored on to Navasota where we camped at a small municipal site near the airport. A rainy, gusty night, a grubby washateria where Mary did laundry, and an impending flu bug made it a less-than-wonderful experience.

The drive to Goose Island State Park, in Rockport, Texas was easy with lots of straight Texas roads with 70 mph limits. We started to see lots of birds as we approached Aransas Wildlife Refuge and soon were searching for a site at the park - where we had made reservations. (Texas has an interesting process in their state parks -- you can reserve a slot for a date or period but not a site -- so you have to decide once you are there which available site you want.)

We found a nice isolated site surrounded by oaks and thickets and right next to a little bird sanctuary and the showers. We set up on the level site and I promptly got sick for two days -- pretty severe stomach bug. Lots of rest, fluids, and good care from Mary and I made a nice recovery yesterday.

I felt up to participating in Saturday's bird walk -- having missed the two earlier ones -- and was astounded at the variety as well as the knowledge of the volunteer guides. We saw about 45 species including willets, gulls, pelicans, ravens, vultures, ducks, and a white ibis. I don't know birds around the sea very well so it was very informative and just spectacular birding.

We really like this place -- it's a wonderful area. We decided to extend for another week rather than keep traveling. Seems nice to settle for a bit and enjoy the weather and the birding. Yesterday afternoon, we drove over to a field where two whooping cranes are living. There were a half-dozen other birders there -- some armed with monstrous lenses for their cameras. The birds were just regal, standing on one leg, preening themselves, ignoring their watchers. It's hard to believe that they fly down from upper Canada and that there are still only a little over 300 of them alive.

This is a nostalgic area for us. Last night out walking the dog, I was watching the sky full of stars and remembering night flying here, decades ago. I happened to remember a night cross-country where I was returning in a F-9 trainer with an instructor high over Houston and we just went inverted and watched the lights of the streets, parking lots, ball field for a while. I did my advanced flight training here, got my Navy wings here, and our daughter was born in this area. Our son got his USMC wings here as well.

So, we've got more whooping cranes to see at the wildlife center, a visit up to Beeville to find our old house and the hospital and the air station, and hope to meet up with my brother Barry and his wife Mica before they head further west. But the schedule is a vacation schedule -- and all plans are flexible. It's nice. Now I need to find those black-bottomed ducks.

Finally, 60's and WiFi

A week after our start, we finally got 60 degree temperatures and a state park with WiFi. The Louisiana park systems rock -- not only are they wired, they also honor the Golden Passport and charge seniors half price.

We are in Lake Charles, LA after an easy trip from Natchez, MS state park -- which was ok but nothing special. It did give us a chance, in spite of cold temperatures, to de-winterize and get the water system going. We continue to fight nagging electrical problems and drove down to Lake Charles with a dead tailight and turn signal on the Airstream. A fuse change solved that.

We met some serious Airstreams, George & Ruth McNinch of Mississippi, who have a cool 05 with a slide. George helped me troubleshoot our battery charging problem - finding that there is no power to the 12V lead on the plug. I did some research on a Ford F-150 forum and learned that sometimes the factory doesn't include a trailer battery relay (05) plug. After checking with an RV dealer and UHaul, I bought the part this morning, plugged it in, and things seem to work. I don't think the truck ever had the $13 plug -- so stay tuned.

Sam Houston Jones State Park is overrun with deer, racoons, and other critters. Our Vizsla met an armadillo yesterday and went nuts -- nearly dragging me across the road to see it. This morning, eight deer were right out behind the Airstream.

The birding is great although there are almost too many for a novice birder like me. I have added about five to my lifelist but will never, without help, figure out the dozens of warblers. We took a short hike today with the dog and Mary really enjoyed seeing her first red-headed woodpecker. Lots of them around here along with sapsuckers.

I took the mountain bike out today with the Springer attachment and gave Penny a good run on the park roads. She's snoring away on the couch as I type -- tuckered her out.

I ran today in shorts and singlet for the first time in many months. Tomorrow, we leave for a small city park in Navasota, TX enroute to Goose Island, then Mustang Island, then Padre Island.

Sleeping on the Median Strip

Last night in Carlisle, PA, we stopped at a Flying J truck stop since they have spaces for rvs for overnight camping. Being right next to I-81 and a major on/off ramp, the roar of downshifting diesel trucks was our bedtime lullaby. It felt like we were camping out on the median of I-81. Quite different from the stillness of our Vermont home where a distant dog barking seems an annoyance.

The day started well with a safe descent of our icy driveway and a departure up over Mendon Mountain on dry roads. The trip over to the Northway and down to Albany was easy but I-88 to Binghamton was challenging. First of all, the hills. I’d forgotten that the road, built and named for Warren Anderson, had so many long climbs and descents. Snow showers, rather heavy at times, added to the drama. Soon, we were on I-81 heading south into Pennsylvania. Aside from the many trucks and hitting Harrisburg at rush hour, things went well.

It was cold and windy and the Airstream was icy cold inside. We got the furnace going but have no water because we’re still winterized. We’re running everything off the battery.

Well, we were. We awoke, after a good night’s sleep in spite of truck noise -- we were bushed from the long drive -- and found the trailer cool. I went to crank up the heat and realized that the battery was low, with not enough juice to light the furnace.

This made us decide to get dressed and packed quick-like, get some Flying J coffee to go, and head on out and warm up in the truck. After a quick run with Penny, off we went. It was early and very dark but truck traffic on I-81 was already heavy. I checked my mirrors after a few miles and realized that the trailer lights were not on. We’d been running without them.

I pulled over to the side of the road, got out and with traffic racing by, checked connections with a flashlight. I checked fuses inside and was at a loss. We sat in the truck as tractor-trailers rocked it with the sidewash.

I decided to see if the blinkers worked, and yes they did. So did the brake lights. I thought we’d have to wait an hour there until it got light enough -- and as we drank coffee I realized that the lights had been on when I first started the truck. It hit me -- the running lights must need power from the battery.

So out in the dark and cold behind the truck, with Mary holding the flashlight and me dropping tools with half-frozen hands, we got the spare battery in place and voila! lights!

The day was rather uneventful after that start. It was great to see once again the gaggles of hawks riding thermals -- something I’ve seen a lot in the south. As a sailplane pilot, it is a sight that always make me think of circling in lift, riding the rising air upward.

Another thing that was fun to see was the water tanks in Virginia. Several were painted beautifully -- one had a mural that made it look like a hot air balloon. I used to run a federal program for rural water systems and so I wondered, “ Did we pay for that fancy paint job.”

A small town along the way had two plain water tanks on a hill behind the community -- one marked “hot” and the other “cold.”

The day ended with rush hour in Knoxville heading into a setting sun. Nothing like fighting stop and go traffic after a long day on the road but I must say, Tennessee drivers are generally pretty sane. Even with a trailer in tow, I felt much calmer that I do in Massachusetts traffic. So we are settled at another Flying J and head tomorrow for the Natchez Trace Parkway where we can drive more leisurely, without trucks to deal with, and start settling into a tourist mode.