Our Big Bender

New Mexico, Gila Mountains country; beautiful!

Road trips are one of the most enjoyable things Bruce and I do as a couple. We load up our portable grill, a cooler of food, bird books and binoculars, audiobooks, wine, and knitting projects and set off. While not an avid birder, my husband was a big-game hunting guide at one point and continues to enjoy whatever critter he sees, whether it be an elk or an egret, and can spot birds like no other. We are compatible that way, and I consider this particular endeavor, The Road Trip, one of many highlights of our marriage.

Bruce and his mother, McDonald Observatory circa 1957

Bruce grew up in Odessa, Texas, and fondly recalls visiting certain spots in west Texas with his mother, father, and extended family when he was just a wee one. Nearly 60 years has passed since he's been to places of his memory: McDonald Observatory, Fort Davis, and Alpine. A trip to Big Bend came up in conversation, and all these places he'd been to as a child sparked his interest in re-visiting. Big Bend has been in the back of my mind as a place to see, out of general interest and as a birder, since it's the only place in the United States to see a Colima Warbler (I suspect many visitors to Big Bend who have binoculars hanging from their neck are there mostly....mostly....because of the Colima Warbler). We decided to make the trip. Wanna come with us to Big Bend and the Davis Mountains? Read on!

Pre-trip research is always fun. For me, I wanted to know where would I find the Colima warbler, and when? Well, the "when" was easy: starting in about mid-April through the nesting season, which was perfect for us because April was our target month to get out of town. Where? Well, that involves a fairly tough hike up over 3,000 feet in elevation to reach a saddle in the Chisos Mountains, upon which you cross over and hike into Boot Canyon from its top, downward, looking and listening along the way. Then, a loop trail brings you back to the Chisos visitor center approximately 8-9 hours later.

Chisos Mountains, one of the higher saddles leads to the Colima Warbler

Reserving lodging for our itinerary, making plans for The Sitting of the Dog, and packing up complete, we took off. New Mexico's western border area around the Gila River, Gila Mountains, and Silver City on a sunny day was a most auspicious start.

The Gila River is lined with enormous cottonwoods,
imagine all the birds in there!!!

El Paso was a city to get through, and then the road trip really began. Making our way to Fort Davis for our first night, we enjoyed the rambling mountainous landscape and were almost stunned when we came across wild (although introduced transplants) Barbary, or Aoudad, sheep. Later, a pair of Montezuma quail squatting in the middle of a winding highway forced some seriously fast braking. We were among the lucky ones who see this species here, as we later found out.

Reaching the town of Fort Davis, we found the historic Limpia Hotel. Immaculate and lovely, the Limpia (meaning "clear" in Spanish and named for nearby Limpia Creek) showcased historic furniture, photographs, architecture, and atmosphere. We barbecued our first of several dinners out of the back of our truck, sipping cocktails and letting Texas warmth shake off the cold and windy White Mountain spring.

The next morning, I had a bit of time to wander the town, enjoying old buildings, morning birdsong, and the rising sun.

This first full day in Texas was devoted to the Fort Davis area. Deciding the best course of action, we captured morning birdwatching at Davis Mountains State Park, and then visited both the McDonald Observatory and Fort Davis National Historic Site in the afternoon. We'd only have to make the short drive to Marathon later on that day to get to our second lodging, where we'd stay for three nights, visiting Big Bend.

View of creek from one of the highest driving points in Davis Mountains State Park

Davis Mountains State Park did not disappoint. There were two well-apportioned bird-feeding stations with blinds for easy viewing. Each feeding station had moving water features, feeders galore, sections of oranges nailed to trees to entice orioles and tanagers, hanging logs with holes full of peanut butter...bird heaven! We made ourselves comfortable at the first station, and proceeded to inventory a number of birds. Wait a minute, that little titmouse with a black crest? I don't think I've seen that bird before, am I to believe I had an unexpected new "life bird" show up out of the blue? Wow!

Black-crested Titmouse, what a cutie!

Summer Tanager enjoying an orange

White-winged Dove

Scott's Oriole, photo B. Sitko

Black-throated Sparrow, photo B. Sitko

Spotted Towhee, photo B. Sitko

Touring the Park, we met a few other birders, one (Bonnie) of whom I pointed out a soaring Gray Hawk, much to her enjoyment. In turn, Bonnie showed us a Cooper's Hawk nest deep in a tree above Campsite #34. The view from one of the top-most pullouts made us realize yuccas were in no danger of disappearing any time soon.

Leaving this very nice state park, Bruce especially wanted to see the McDonald Observatory, not only famed for its 40-year stint as the base of National Public Radio's "StarDate" series among many other space discoveries, but also to re-visit part of a dear memory of the aforementioned family road trip. We arrived just as a busload of students came, so among the student crush, we wandered around the visitor center, took a few photos, and went back down the mountain to Fort Davis to visit its namesake's historic fort.

Fort Davis, established in 1854 and named after Jefferson Davis, was constructed to protect settlers in the growing Southwest and their needs (supply wagons, mail carriers, and the like) during the initial painful wars with Native American tribes including Comanches and Mescalero Apaches. After the Civil War, it at times housed some all-black infantry and calvary regiments, and played an important role in the military history of black Americans. It is now a National Historic Site, and has been managed by the U.S. National Park Service since 1961.

Bruce's family visited probably the first year the National Park Service took ownership and management responsibility, and Bruce really only remembers a sprinkling of buildings and lots of foundations. Decades later, many of the barracks and other buildings have been restored, re-constructed, or otherwise set up for public viewing. The visitor center had a huge amount of historical records, and the entire Fort was wide open for wandering on your own. Interpretive signs were scattered about, strategically placed to answer pretty much any question you might have at that particular spot.

Since Bruce has a foot issue and limited mobility, I wandered the expansive grounds on my own, doing double duty as birder and history nerd. It was a pleasant afternoon; uncrowded, with the ability to think my own thoughts, wonder about life back in Fort years, and marvel at the community Fort Davis became.

A line of barracks made for some interesting geometry

The token bird picture: a Bewick's Wren singing from a fencepost.
Lots of nice birds here!

When finished, we loaded up and headed to Marathon. One of three primary towns that are gateway communities (still 40 miles away) to Big Bend (the other two being Alpine and Marfa), we found a Bed & Breakfast called Eve's Garden, and reserved three nights at Eve's.

Well. Let me tell you, Eve's Garden is, literally, another world. Initially a creation by a Texan woman named Kate and a construction engineer Clyde, and now generally maintained by Kate, her son Noble, and his wife Alaine, it is a "papercrete" (recycled paper, styrofoam, and concrete mix) whirlygig of color, rounded Flintstone-esque walls, beehive-ceilinged rooms, tangles of flowers, herbs, and greenery, fascinating artwork, doo-dads and knick-knacks that beg to be awed over, plus a couple cats who know they shouldn't enter your room, but will if you leave your door open to run get a cuppa joe in the guest's help-yourself room.

We were speechless as we stepped inside an entrance gate into an enormous glass greenhouse. Tiptoeing under a canopy of bougainvillea, we met Alaine, who led us through the panoply of color, around a pond, and to our room. Beehive-shaped and painted a cobalt blue, our Sapphire Room felt cozy and cool. The pale terra-cotta bathroom had a door that opened into a private patio. Alaine gave us an orientation, and arranged for an early breakfast (a delicious oatmeal custard, with a side of a berry and yogurt parfait) as we had planned to leave for Big Bend before breakfast was served the next morning.

We had time to unload, get set up for the next three nights, make a cocktail, and sit in the open patio, where soft music was piped in and birds sang in the treetops. I grabbed my camera and wandered around the premises, snapping photos left and right, finally telling myself "FILTER, Sue, FILTER! You only have one SD card!" One of my favorite things was an old wooden dresser with a little hand-carved cat poking its head out in a worn gap in the top drawer.

We rose before the sun did; with Daylight Savings Time, it didn't get light until about 7 a.m., far too late for our own body clocks. So we bundled up what we needed for the day while it was still dark, ate our breakfast, and started off for our first of two days in Big Bend, 50 miles away.

Big Bend is a very large park; four main visitor-centric areas and a few scenic drives facilitate most visitors; looking deeper, we find there were several dirt roads, backcountry hiking trails, and opportunities to wander to historic man-made structures and other points of interest. Located mostly in the Chihuahuan desert, the flatter, lower landscape is dominated by yuccas, creosote, and prickly pear cactus. The Chisos Mountains, a range wholly within the Park, provides the most habitat variety, rising up to 9,000 feet, and includes several life zones from juniper and oak to pine and other conifers.

Back side of the Chisos. It's a stunning mountain range.

The zig-zag of the Rio Grande River on the Park's southern border, of course, is the reason for the name Big Bend. The river's wide belt of cottonwood, willow, and mesquite floodplains provide the key as to why this park is one of the most bio-diverse sites in the country.

We spent our day visiting spots here and there that the Visitor Center's park ranger pointed out which should offer more bird variety, or are among the park's more scenic areas. From the Rio Grande river bottom in two sites (Rio Grande Village and Castalon) to the cooler, less humid Chisos Mountains, we covered a lot of ground but knew we truly only stepped our toes into the Park. I took a few short hikes, birding along the way, while Bruce took photographs and relaxed, enjoying the surroundings.

Cactus Wren near its nest

Swainson's Hawk

Green Heron

Castalon Mountain

Floodplain of the Rio Grande, where cotton was once grown,
a community thrived, and borders were very soft.

Santa Elena Canyon on the Rio Grande

Coming out of Santa Elena Canyon, overview of the Castalon area

The informative Ranger showed us where the main hiking trail is to find the Colima warbler, and explained the challenging nature of the hike, which started at the Chisos visitor center group of trailheads. To find this bird, one must be able to hike all day; it's a minimum of about 8 hours and 10 miles round-trip, with about a 3,000' elevation gain. Water and a trekking pole would be my companions. Ending our first afternoon at the Chisos visitor parking lot, we marked the mileage and started clocking our drive back to Marathon, in order to time our arrival for tomorrow's first light at the trailhead.

Just before Marathon, we saw this Ostrich in a field.
Can I add this to my trip's bird list? 

On the drive back to Marathon, I pulled out my cell phone's "Ibird" app, and played the audio recordings for the Colima warbler to familiarize myself with its song. It was a pretty little song with a downward trill. Now, birds have songs, and they also have calls. A bird's "call" is more of an alarm, warning, or other survival chip or chirp or peep or psssst. The audio recording of a Colima's call was a short "chirp." Playing the chirp, I grimaced at Bruce and ranted "How can ANYONE identify a bird with a chirp that sounds like every other bird out there? I mean, really!!!!!" and went on and on about the ridiculousness of trying to learn chirps, chips, and pssssts. It really only underscored the fact that I'm too lazy to really listen closely to the nuance of the chirp.

That night, I packed up what I felt I'd need on an all-day hike. Hat, water, snacks, binoculars, a fully-charged phone with Ibird on and ready, camera, and the rest. We woke up on Big Bend Day 2, this was it!!! This was the day to track down a tiny warbler in a huge canyon at the top of a mountain! We started the drive in the dark, reached the Park boundary, and continued past the border's un-manned gate. I admit I was getting a bit nervous, as I had been warned that this was one tough little hike and no guarantee of seeing the bird. I was dressed for success, though, both mentally and physically.

Lost in our thoughts, we almost hit a bull elk on the side of the road. WHAT? Bruce slammed on the brakes, and sure enough, a bull elk (antler nubs just starting their annual growth; that's a bull) was standing on the side of the road in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert in the early dawn. It looked at us, startled, then turned, leaping into the expanse of yuccas. We stared at each other, flabbergasted. An elk in the low deserts of Texas? We kept on, Bruce's heart racing at the close call.

Reaching the Chisos parking lot, I saw a gentleman with binoculars around his neck (the telltale sign of a Colima-seeker), and inquired as to the correct trail and trailhead. He pointed out where to go, reminding me that it was a tough hike, do I have enough water, and I'm actually doing this alone? Yes. Although, I was secretly hoping that I'd come across someone on the trail doing the same thing I was doing, to have a bit of company for company's sake.

Bruce promised he'd be here at the parking lot waiting for me by around 2:00 p.m. I started off. It was a beautiful morning, with the mountains and trees providing enough shade to keep me cool. I would look back down to the valley where the parking lot and Chisos facilities were to get a sense of how much I was climbing. Everything was in working order, including my knees and lungs. Onward, ho!

And what I had secretly hoped for happened. I came across another couple, both with binoculars, doing exactly what I was doing: searching for the Colima warbler. We chatted amiably, and pretty soon Fran, David, and I were a team, identifying other birds along the way, and learning about each other. From Cape Cod, Fran and David (his wonderful world travels are journaled in his blog) were avid birders, with David being in the natural resource field as was I, and Fran trained as an ecologist as well. They were the perfect hiking partners for me; at times we talked, other times we were silent, enjoying the environment we were in, and we kept the same pace.

We continued our climb to the saddle that eventually led to Boot Canyon. On the way up, we did hear two Colima warblers singing to each other, but the steepness of the terrain did not lend itself to thrashing off trail to track down those birds. Unseen, that was not good enough, so we forged ahead and finally reached the saddle. Boot Canyon lay ahead of us, its bright-green trees, perfect Colima habitat (deciduous trees, oak, and scrub), inviting us to enter and look for the treasures within.

The top of Boot Canyon

The sun was high above us by then, and birds had quieted down in the approaching mid-day heat. We walked slowly, looking every which way for movement, listening for any sound over the ruffling leaves. When we weren't hearing much, we'd enjoy the flowering cactus blooms and beauty of the Chisos Mountains.

Then: Chirp.

I froze, waiting. Chirp. The memory of listening to the Colima's single-note call last night, the call I described in derogatory terms, rattled in my brain. This chirp kinda sorta sounded like that chirp. Could it be?

Motioning to Fran and Dave and pointing to the trees below us, I chirped back. Two Colima warblers from deep within the vegetation below us flew up to find out who was intruding on their territory, landing in a tree near us, chirping and scolding and bippity-bopping around right over our heads. Ta-da! And there, folks, were two Colima warblers, cute as buttons, little gray birds with white eye rings, a yellow rump, and a rusty cap, making their appearance.

Whee! Colima Warbler!

Getting a good look through binoculars was easy compared to getting a picture. We got our good views, and cameras started clicking. A pocket camera with auto focus is not the best way to get a picture of highly active small birds deep within some shrubs. Neither is it a good idea to try and video a warbler. However, I tried (7 seconds in there's a brief appearance, but you can hear the song and infamous chirp throughout).

Since cell service was still available, I texted Bruce a quick "Success! Heading down!" note, and Fran and I continued to hike the longer loop while Dave turned around to take the shorter (but steeper) way back.

That was it for the Colima. No other Colimas made their presence known. Other birds did, and we had an enjoyable nearly 6-mile march back to the Chisos basin parking area, where Bruce was there waiting, smiling, and proud of his wife who hiked ten miles to find a bird. He had already scoped the gift shop and showed me a Big Bend t-shirt with a Colima warbler on it, which promptly became mine.

That night's dinner was not barbecued burgers off the back of our truck. We celebrated in style at a most excellent restaurant in the restored Gage Hotel, complete with more than one cocktail and a wonderful meal.

Cocktail and wine glass empty, water glass full.
Hmmmmm....

Our third day in Marathon was a day to relax and visit two other nearby towns, Alpine and Marfa. Before the 9 a.m. breakfast at Eve's Garden, we had lots of time on our hands, which also happens to be a great time to watch birds.

Turkey Vultures basking in the sun

We made our way to a county park, which Alaine explained later held the largest open body of water in Brewster County, Texas. It was essentially a pond, a couple-acre swelling of a dammed creek, graced with large cottonwoods. It was a beautiful spot, void of people (doesn't anyone get up early in Texas?), and full of birds. The red vermillion flycatcher was a highlight, as was golden-fronted woodpecker and Eastern phoebe. And, en route both there and back, we found a hen and tom Wild Turkey from the Rio Grande sub-population. All in all a good morning of birding!

Wild Turkey, Rio Grande sub-population, photo B. Sitko

We made it back to sit at a well-appointed table, served a delicious waffle, bacon, and fruit breakfast. I saw that Eve's Garden made the cover of Texas Highways magazine awhile ago, and I could see why.

We bid adieu to Eve's Garden, and left for Alpine and Marfa. Alpine has the marvelous Museum of the Big Bend, and we gave ourselves whatever time we needed to go through their treasure-trove of history.

Just an example of the many informative signs.
Cabeza de Vaca's story is rather astounding, I read about his journey in graduate school years ago 

Marfa celebrates its history and character as well. The town is smaller than Alpine and works to keep its historic architecture by re-using buildings in different ways. Old gas stations become art galleries instead of razed; another historic hotel had a wonderful suite of gift shops. Funky stuff, books, and candy were offerings elsewhere. Marfa also is know for its dark, starry skies, the "Marfa lights," and as the place where the James Dean-Liz Taylor movie Giant was filmed.

We spent the night in Alpine, and had time in the morning before heading home to stop by their Gem & Mineral show, and then it was homeward bound!

More beads!!!!

Instead of a grueling 9-hour drive like we did on Day 1, we decided to split up the drive and stay one more night on the road. For years we had wanted to stay at Bear Mountain Lodge in Silver City, New Mexico, and this was the perfect opportunity. Casitas and a large central two-story adobe lodge is heaven for nature lovers. Bird feeders and water features graced the grounds, and trails wandered through the nearby hills. Getting there early enough for cocktails and a late afternoon stroll in the magnificent New Mexico light made for a nice last evening.

The next morning's light was perfect (again) for wandering around before breakfast, seeing a few birds and more of the Inn's artwork.

A short video of a cute Canyon Towhee:

We noticed a nice hanging display of glass-blown wind chimes. Elegant, geometric, and colorful, they are the artwork of Michael and Margaret Joplin, who use the lost-wax method to cast glass in various shapes and stack them with metal objects. Michael is the brother of Janis Joplin, and now lives with his wife Margaret in Tucson. They enjoyed a visit to Bear Mountain Inn so much, they gifted several to the Inn for display.

We settled our tab, packed up, and made our way back to home, sweet home. We could tell a definite difference in temperatures from before and after our trip. The sun's rays were just warm enough to let us know that winter was over. Well......almost. A tiny snowfall occurred a day or so later...gah, April in the White Mountains!!! Now, where will we go next April???