I could almost write a book about some of the clueless, snarky, and sometimes downright strange comments I have received while doing my periodic hikes up the Chisos Mountains in the middle of Big Bend National Park for the locally endemic Colima Warbler. If you want to ever see this bird in the USA you have to come here. There is no way around it, none.
This is my 5th ascent to this monument to birding. The holy birding mecca of west Texas. The trips roll of my tongue. 1994, 2013, 2016, 2018, and now 2023. Despite just 5 trips up and back, I am 5 for five for the goal bird but I have become somewhat outspoken on giving advice about how best to do it, (maybe too outspoken?) but the few who have followed my route have thanked me and the others well, sometimes it has not gone so well. Yes, you need to hit the trail 2 hours before sunrise, yes, you have to carry a flashlight, and yes, bears and cougars can be encountered. We were followed by a cat in 2018, and you could smell the scent of cat urine at one spot we were taking a break. It was unmistakable to all that we were being watched. But going early also means Mexican whippoorwills calling and sightings. So it is a trade off. Owls are rarely if ever heard.
Nobody we pass ever seems to have the right shoes (today someone was hiking in shower sandals and was past the saddle and getting towards the rim, I hate to be his feet tonight). Nobody takes enough water despite the signs of taking 2 liters (no yelling at the NPS about this). I have had people maybe a half mile in and not even to the initial crest of the hill look exasperated when I told them they had barely begun the ascent. Others come by at 10 maybe 2-3 miles in with the plan of doing the whole brutal 12-mile loop. My large camera or binoculars have always created a stir. One college girl in 2016 even asked me if my camera was overcompensating for something. "My wife would think it was the other way around." I replied. Then giggling, she offered me $50 bucks if I could impress her. Her girlfriend gave her a push, "That is my money in your pocket, I'd rather have lunch when we get back down, I don't want to lose it seeing his junk."
Another guy quipped today, so what are you looking at with those binoculars, naked people? A birder who had caught up to us (Donna) and who I was helping find the bird, retorted, "you first." to the gentleman. I looked at my wife who was biting her lip. Sometimes too much information on the trail is not a good thing, but yes, Olaf has an infamous story about that, too. I guess buy the book, "A chapter in my Boobies, peckers, and tits" happened here, on this trail and over this very spot.
Yet another woman seeing my bins "or camera" asked me what looked to her like the question she had been thinking about all the way up the hill. "Does Texas have its own blue bird?" I looked at her, she was holding proudly her binoculars.
"Well, no, the same one as the entire region, why?"
"We just saw one down the trail."
"oh, Mexican jays." I replied understanding.
"Yes the Mexican blue bird." But she did not see to look satisfied with that revelation.
Today we also met some Indian tourists. They looked all professional, with high end hiking sticks, new packs and they were displaying some serious use of those sticks, like that was the goal not a by product. I got out of her way. She said something to me that I had no idea what it was (it almost sounded like "help me please!") Maybe was her look but it was like they had watched a Youtube of how to use hiking sticks. The wife, however, decked in pink, because...I guess everyone hikes in pink was using so much force with the sticks she was wearing herself out and was carrying a full pack, and yet they were only a half mile up the trail. She also had on bad shoes (okay too much shoe watching), but had on an orange UT Longhorns hat on (pink clothing, orange hat?? Quite the clash) farther up the trail they stopped and one could hear arguing in Hindi.
Then there is everyone with enough water carrying gallon jugs by the handle. Ouch that looks painful! Today we saw some water stashed by someone for the trip down. I have to confess I have done that at Glacier back in the day. Some of it may still be there. All yuccas, pine trees, rocks look the same on the way down. I almost lost a stashed mountain bike once, but I digress.
I have also had some odd events, some I have been a casual witness for and a couple caused solely by "strange old Olaf" (naked birding for one), I'll just leave you with two and not that one.
Let me see....
1) I had to go up alone once because the person who started with me, had as it would turn out either a mild heart attack or some serious dyspnea just past the water tank. Doing a big year and on a tight schedule I had to go get the bird and get back, so I told him to go down the hill, I would fly up get the bird at dawn and come back. He lived but when I was returning, I was able to put my spotting scope on our vehicle in the parking lot from way up and it was at some distance but his head was clearly falling out the window and it sure looked like his tongue was hanging out. We called that the "Q sign" in my surgery residency. A rare "Dotted Q sign" meant a person was out with tongue hanging out with a fly on it. That was a terrible prognosis, but a Q sign was not much better. I ran down the hill. My friend (a non-birder by the way) was just asleep. His chest discomfort had abated. I diagnosed him with an MI and called 911 in Florida in 2019. I was not taking anymore chances them and he got stented in the ER.
2) My friend Jim Brown and I invented a religion up this trail with the sacred Ocotillo and involving Lucifer hummingbirds, ritual bathing, and sacramental wine, pretty much all one needs for a good religion. Now Ordained for the Church of St, Ocotillo, I look forward to performing more weddings, saying prayers, or just observing the sacred. I do funerals but those are less fun. We travel with an Ocotillo, who born in Texas in 2018 and has returned home this week. He (named Occy) has 40,000 miles on him.
No comments:
Post a Comment