A Big Texas Farwell

Last week's Van horn excursion brought us to the Tortilleria once again for the weekly snack of bean burritos and our pick up of fresh tortillas for the week. This time though we were accompanied by the hack site girls from the Baeza site. We took the biggest table in the little joint and chatted with one another about our sites and home life while gorging ourselves on the savory Mexican cuisine.

After our day in town, which always feels like a luxury, I felt the need to get out on the ranch again to take in the beauty of my surroundings. I decided to take the loop we had once taken our first week here, the one that never seemed to end and we happened to lack all of the necessary replenishing fluids. Well, this time I made sure to have a full, ice cold water bottle because I would be embarking on this journey alone.

I left Halley in her sleepy state and wrote a not just in case she wished to meet up with me from the other direction; or you know she could at least find my corpse frying somewhere along the road when I never returned. The first past of my walk, my eyes were glued to the ground looking for arrowheads and other interesting minerals along the way. As the sun rose up and its rays reached into the 100s much of my energy was expelled by simply bending down and looking at a stone. It wasn't until I found a perfectly preserved frog that had been dried out by the intense heat that I looked back and realized that I had barely made any progress from the door of the tin shack. I dropped the petrified frog into the pocket of my shit and told myself that if I wanted make it all the way I was going to have to pick up the pace, keep my eyes up and ration what water I had left. So I continued on what, like last time, felt like the longest journey ever; I was on some weird pilgrimage that would never end.

After pushing myself to go on, I finally made it to the water tank at the top of the hill. I could see the house from there, but having traveled this road before I knew that although my destination was in sight, I was still a few miles away. I took a big swig of my now close to boiling water, the metal bottle cooking my fingers as I held it up to my lips. Halley wasn't in site, I would have to mike back on my own. In order to boost my morale in the the blistering heat I began to sing some songs; and if anyone knows me well enough they know that the only songs that I know all the words to are Disney tunes. So there I was, stumbling along with my tube top ties around my head like a turban, my cotton button up tied up under my chest like a cowgirl and songs like "Once Upon a December," "Kiss the Girl" and "A Whole New World" came flying from my lips with what seemed like an alcoholic induced manner.

When my voice became too parched to sing any longer, I heard a "Hey there" and I looked up to see Halley in front of me; and no it wasn't a mirage. She had woken up to do some yoga and then headed out to join up with me. Man was I glad to see her; it definitely made the last mile or so seem to pass on by much faster. When we returned , I placed my frog friend with my treasured rock collection on the front porch and headed for bed.

After a quick snooze we were off to the site again to see what Brian had set up for us that morning. Our young falcons yet again were being put to the test. The adult pair that showed up last year and somewhat adopted the young falcons were back again this year but doing just the opposite. The adults were showing up at the site to feed and then scaring away the only two falcons we had left. Brian suggested that the most likely cause for this change of heart was that last year, the young falcons outnumbered the adults and now that there were only two they could take advantage of them, bully them. In order to coax the young falcons into returning to the towers Brian put up movable hack boards behind our blind. We would start zip tying quail in these hack boards in hopes that maybe RZ and AU would come back to feed. If not though, the site would close. It was like that horror movie "The Ring." Brian told us (imagine a creepy voice), "You have seven days." Okay, well he told use that we had eight days to see the falcons, but seven sounds more like the movie.

The next morning we woke up and started to pack the car for the early shift at the site when I saw something hopping in the grass right by the porch. It was big green speckled frog. I picked him up to get a better look and then for some reason my eyes glanced at the porch to where my rock collection stood, but there was something missing... the dried frog! He had come back to life and I was holding the magical creature in my hands right then. Well, in all seriousness, something probably took it in the middle of the night and then I happened to come across different frog the next morning; but the other way sounds much cooler. I hope the coyote leg we have on our porch doesn't suddenly start hopping around; that would be weird.

All magical happenings aside, we were off to the site to sit for hours watching the adult pair feed on the towers and then linger around as if guarding the queen. It was only day seven but we were already a tad bit worried that the young falcons would never show up, especially with such relentless bullies on guard. So that afternoon we headed to the ranch house to make some calls home in warning of our possible hasty upheaval. We had both already bought our plane tickets by then so the new wasn't too exciting to each party on either end.

After feeling a little down about the whole situation, we headed back over the dusty roads and cattle guards to the tin shack. in passing a large bush on our way, just after closing a gate, a bird frantically flew out in front of us. not just any bird though, one of our falcons! We were so thrilled to see him that we called Brian that night with our exciting news. Man, what a magical day - right out of Harry Potter, well not quite.

That night it was like mother nature wanted to whip all the magic right out of us. the winds were whirling so strongly around our house that Halley was convinced there was tornado. The shutters covering the window (on the inside) by here bed just wouldn't stay closed; a big gust would come by and rip them open again and again. In her sleepy state, it didn't come to here to just close the actual window, so the next thing I knew there was a high pitched screeching sound beside me because she was dragging her metal bed across the concrete floor to hold the shutters closed. Halley's bed was on an adventure ride all night.

With little sleep we woke the next day to move crazy weather. We watched from our truck at lightning bolts filled the skies above the site striking in every which way you could imagine. When it seemed like things were dying down a bit we cautiously stumbled out of the truck to grab the two moveable hack boards Brian had put up (which were now toppled over) and threw them in the bed. We propped up the hack boards near the siting we had that previous day. We tied some food up and hoped for the best.

Another night of raging winds and another day of no falcons. I began to spend the majority of my time working on the training video I was supposed to be creating, and now knew there might be very little time left to complete it. Jose and Artemeo got a kick out of watching me follow Halley around with the camera. I wanted to get a shot of her driving off and they stood there giggling to themselves as I ran after Halley telling her to stop.

It had been a few days since we had seen the young falcon and it had been over a week since we had seen either one feed. Brian dropped by the site to deliver the news that they were going to shut down the site. What a bummer. It was hard for me to believe this was all happening. Last year Christine and I had released 26 birds and had 18 success stories; this year we were left with not one. I guess it's all part of being in this field. Projects like this are a struggle, and it takes lots of time and lots of losses to bring a population back.

Well, Brian gave us a few days to write up our reports and pack up the site and our belongings so we figured we'd make the most of it.

We took a trip over to the Baeza site so that I could get some taping of actual birds. We left a not for the girls and then spent an hour or so tryign to get out to the highway from the back of their site. Well, it didn't work and by the time we back tracked our steps the girls were back and we were able to say our good-byes in person. With all of the experimental driving, we somehow got a nail lodged in the tire so we couldn't stay long. We headed off to Van Horn where we found Mike's Tire Shop and our new dear friend Popeye. At first Popeye looked like a terrifying fellow... teeth missing, leathery skin crinkled all around, clothes covered in oil and grime; but once we got to taking to him (from what we could understand) he was a endearing jokester. He told us they called him Popeye because of this voice but I think he sounded more like that kid from "The Little Rascals;" Froggy I believe. Well, we headed off promising to honk and yell "Popeye" every time we passed.

Today we're off to the Guatalupe Mountains and Carlsbad Caverns; where I hope this time I can see the bats whirl their way out in a big smoke stack. I'm sorry that the blog is ending early this year, but I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing. Although my time in West Texas this time around was shourt, it was no less rewarding. Until my next adventure... Adios Texas! See you soon everyone!