Pandemic Road Trip: Thanksgiving 2020 "No eyeball pecking today" - The Middle

I am reminded of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 horror classic, The Birds, but a much friendlier version with nicer cast members.  There are a gazillion flying feathered creatures, like in the movie, but what is absent is the gruesome pecking of eyeballs.  

Instead, the birds peck in the fields and occasionally at one another, while the horrifying screams of eyeless people have been replaced by the squawking and quacking of cranes, geese, and ducks.

It’s winter migration. 

There have been 374 different bird species observed at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in New Mexico, but I have come for just one – the long legged, long necked Sandhill Crane. 

This is the week of the Festival of the Cranes, but since we are in the middle of a pandemic, the festivities have been cancelled.  However, the birds obviously did not get the memo.  

Typically, about 10,000 cranes migrate through the refuge, along with the 20,000 or so of Ross’s and Snow geese and they all seem to be here on this day.  

It’s only 7:30am, but I am already late to the party. 

It’s well past sunrise, the time when the flocks of birds who roost in the refuge move to the agricultural fields to feed.  Apparently, that is quite the spectacle and as I enter the refuge, I notice a slew of photographers with their big lenses and just as many other birders with binoculars dangling from their necks.  They were here before dawn to get into position to get the perfect view, to get the perfect shot.  I envy them for their dedication.  I suppose that is the downfall of my success as a wildlife photographer.  I like my sleep. 

The refuge is over 57,000 acres of flooded plains, wetlands, grasslands, scrublands, and desert terrain.  Prime habitat for birding, but I have no expectations.  I am simply hoping to “see a few birds,” but as soon as I enter the refuge, I see my Sandhill Cranes and my heart skips a beat. 

My head is on a swivel. 

Birds are everywhere.  

I do not know where to look, however, it is the sound that intensifies my excitement.  With no human noise to contend with, the calls of thousands of birds echoing in the early morning stillness is jarring.  It is a sound I have never heard before at this level.  Loud and obnoxious, yet beautiful and hypnotizing. 

A deep breath letting nature flow through me.  Now I am ready to be a wildlife photographer and unashamedly, a bird nerd.

My Field Guide to Birds of North America is at the ready.  In between taking pictures, I attempt to identify birds.  Many I have seen before, like the swarms of red-winged black birds that swirl into the air as one, reminding me of the crows in Hitchcock’s movie.  

However, there are many first timers that I can check off in my book, like the Northern Pintail and Ross’s Goose.  The Sandhill Cranes were, of course, a major highlight, but seeing two bald eagles was a wonderful surprise.   

Although it isn't just the birds I watch.  There is other wildlife as well, like deer and coyote, however, if I had to pick one memory from being at Bosque, it would be watching a squadron of javelina.   As with some of the birds, this was my first time seeing javelina, which I thought were wild boar.

Although the speed limit on the auto-tour road is 25mph, the lack of traffic allowed me to drive much slower.  Puttering along the north loop, I saw two men crouched down with lenses aimed into the brush.  I couldn’t see what they saw, but when a photographer has his face pressed against his camera,  you know something is there worthy of a photograph!

Javelina!

Many national parks require you to remain 25-yards away from wildlife.  I don’t know if that applies in Bosque, but if it did, I clearly violated the rules.  I didn’t realize how close I was until I peeked out from behind my camera.  I was standing less than 10-feet away.  He, or she, stopped eating and looked at me. We made eye contact.

“Oh shit.” 

I weighed my options and there were none.  No nearby tree to climb, no car to jump into, and nowhere to run.  Basically, I was wide open for attack, but lucky for me, he was more interested in eating leaves rather than eating me.  Cautiously, I moved away in the opposite direction in which he was headed. 

Eventually, they crossed the road in front of the handful of photographers who had gathered and that is when I took my favorite image from this entire trip.  A few ran across and then a mother and her baby stopped hidden partially by the bushes.  The baby nursed for several seconds and then mama crossed the road with the baby right behind her.  That is the picture I took.  I turned to the woman next to me and we both had tears in our eyes.  Watching the baby nurse was a very touching moment and one I will never forget.   

My second morning at the refuge didn’t present quite the same birding experiences as the day before.  

The weather was different.  Previously, it was overcast with a sprinkling of rain, but calm, now it was sunny and very windy.  The birds weren’t as active and neither the bald eagles nor javelina could be found, although I did get some good photos of cranes in flight.  

What an incredible two days of photography at Bosque and I'm already planning to go back!  But for now, I have a decision to make...

Where to next?

…to be continued.

To see more pictures from this and other road trips, visit my Facebook Page and Instagram.

Western Meadowlark

A bald eagle watches over everything

Pandemic Road Trip: Thanksgiving 2020 "It's a good day to have a good day" - The Beginning

I stay busy with my art, with my photography, with my part-time job, but that occupies me for only so long.  I am restless, unfulfilled, and depressed to a certain degree.  These feelings come often and with a strength that leaves me wanting.  

I look at my reflection in the mirror and I am dissatisfied.  It goes beyond my physical appearance, that is superficial.  What I feel is internal.  Something deep that I can’t quite grasp, can’t quite understand.  It is an ache, in my body and in my mind.  It is an urge, but an urgency for what?

Wanderlust.

I don’t need an excuse to travel, but it is nice when there is a reason.  My friend has invited me for Thanksgiving in Denver, so of course a road trip is in order.  Unfortunately, after I started planning my trip, tighter COVID restrictions caused us concern, so we err on the side of caution.  Although I won’t be traveling to Colorado to visit my friend, doesn’t mean I won’t travel. 

The apartment is sparkling clean as is my truck.  Two of my prerequisites before traveling.  

My camera gear is in the backseat next to the ice chest full of water, tea, and snacks.  With the addition of a new camera and converter, I realize I will need to buy a bigger case.  For now, my equipment is divided between two backpacks.  

My big, purple suitcase is crammed with clothes for every season because I can never be too prepared.  Besides, the weather will vary as I travel across several states and elevations.  There is a box of camping supplies next to my luggage.  Again, I can never be too prepared.  My co-pilot, Gee, hangs out on the dash and keeps me company.

I am ready for adventure.

I live the wanderer’s dream the first night in a two-star hotel in Holbrook, Arizona, 587-miles from home.  I awake tired with muscles still tense from the previous days driving, but I eagerly get behind the wheel again.  I am not going far.  My first scheduled stop on this road trip is just 30-miles from my room at the Days Inn.   

It’s a good day to have a good day and I drive towards Petrified Forest National Park with a purpose.  That purpose is to let nature soothe my soul, calm my restless spirit, and help me forget my monotonous life back in San Diego.  And, of course, do some photography.

Petrified Forest was originally a National Monument established in 1906 by one of my favorite conservationalists, but who most people know as the 26^th President, Theodore Roosevelt.  It became a National Park in 1962 and in 2004, during President George W. Bush's presidency, expanded to over 218,500 acres.  

Petrified Forest is known for its fossils, especially from fallen trees that lived about 225 million years ago, but there are also more than 1200 archeological sites within the park boundary. 

It is 45-degrees and sunny when I flash my National Parks Pass at the entrance gate.  The ranger hands me a map and I tell her it is my first time to the park.  She welcomes me with an enthusiastic smile and compliments the fleece I'm wearing.  I am enthusiastic too.  There are no other cars in front or behind me.  It is definitely a good day and I can’t wait to explore.

Eventually comes more people and more cars, but there is absolutely no competition for parking.  Unlike at the national parks in Utah I visited during October's road trip, here, there is enough space for everyone.   Enough breathing room between us so we don’t worry about wearing our mandatory masks. 

People snap their pictures and rush to the next scenic location noted on their park maps, but I linger.  At many of the viewpoints, I am left alone with only the wind and birds for company.  This is what I crave.  This is what I need and it is beautiful.

The park protects one of the largest concentrations of petrified wood in the world, but when I stop at the Painted Desert Inn I am more interested in the building.  It was designed in the Pueblo Revival style and built in the late 1930s by National Park Service architect Lyle E. Bennett.  In 1987, it was declared a National Historic Landmark. 

Unfortunately, it is closed because of COVID-19 restrictions.  A few people are busy in the parking lot taking pictures, so I wander down a trail to a viewpoint behind the inn.   No one is here.  It is quiet, the air is crisp and fresh, and I can see for miles. 

At Newspaper Rock there are over 650 petroglyphs and pictograph carvings from over 2,000 years ago.  However, I am unable to get close.  I am on a landing about 50 yards up a hill.  

The viewing scope glass is cloudy and with my poor eyesight, I cannot see the petroglyphs clearly, but I am hesitant to push my face against it to get a better view.  Too many germs from too many faces.  Instead, I use the zoom on my camera.  

The artwork is fascinating and I wish I could get closer to do some macro photography. However, it is probably best for the carvings that tourists are kept away.  

It is along the Blue Mesa trail, however, where I finally see what I came for: petrified wood.   

A handful of people are enjoying the trail, but most of them are young and in shape.  They quickly complete the easy one-mile loop, but I am slower.  I take my time, not on purpose, but because I am fat and need to stop often to catch my breath.  

I don’t mind going slow, though.  It gives me time to take pictures and to take in my surroundings.  I trace my fingertips lightly over the hardened wood, hold it in my hands, and imagine what the tree might have looked like in which it came.  

The chunk of petrified wood I am holding is heavier than it looks.  It's not really wood at all, but a fossil made up of different minerals.  The last science class I took was quite a few years ago in high school, so I have no idea what minerals it is composed of.  I only know that it's pretty cool.

The Crystal Forest trail is much more crowded, with families and even a few dogs, but it is an easier trail and where I can see up-close the crystals in the large pieces of petrified wood.  I study the formations, noticing patterns and colors.  Each one is different with varying degrees of beauty.  The looping trail is a mere .75-miles, but it takes me almost an hour to walk it because again, I take my time absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of the earth.

I have reached the other end of the park.  I am tempted to turn around and travel back through, but I have many more miles to go before stopping for the night.  After consulting my map, I realize the route I will take into New Mexico runs through Pie Town so I make an impromptu stop.

This is the third time I've attempted to stop in Pie Town to get a piece of pie, but the timing was never right.  Until now.  It's almost 3pm.  I stop at the first place I see, The Gathering Place, and surprisingly, it is open.  

I push through the door and am greeted by the most wonderful smells and by a black dog who insists on licking my hand.  There are several tables covered with fresh-out-of-the-oven pies and my stomach rumbles with anticipation.  I eyeball each pie, looking for the perfect one, but the clerk informs me those pies are for a 200 pie order they just received.  

Instead, she shows me four smaller pies in a case that have obviously been sitting there for most of the day.  She says that those are all they have left.   I pick the least pathetic looking one.  It's apricot.  Not my favorite.  I 'd prefer apple or even peach, but it will have to do.   $11 later, I have pie in hand, but it doesn't feel as exciting as I imagined.  But at least now I can say I've had pie in Pie Town.

So far for this trip I have made accommodation reservations.  That's something I usually don't do because I like having the flexibility to deviate from my itinerary.   However, after my most recent and  disastrous road trip of being unable to find a hotel room, I have decided reservations are a must.  

I have two nights booked at the Super 8 in Socorro, still an hour and a half away, but just twenty miles from the main reason for this trip - Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.  I toss the pie in the ice chest to be devoured later, wash the dog saliva from my hand, and get back on the road.   

    …to be continued.

To see more pictures from this and other road trips, visit my Facebook Page and Instagram.

Petrified wood along Crystal Forest trail

My view: I can see for miles