A trip back to the Tennessee Valley

 

Natural Histories
Stories from the Tennessee Valley
by Stephen Lyn Bales

Lovely book!  Although my impression of it might be warped by his clever placement of the Bald Eagle success story at the end of the book. So after reading about the demise of the Carolina Parakeet and the Dusky Seaside Sparrow, it was lovely to hear that the eagle was on sound footing again.

First he writes about how around  Christmas there used to be a tradition of men and boys going out to conduct "side hunts", where every creature they could see were killed and counted. Most of those were birds. He had an active hand in persuading the men to give up killing the birds and simply count them instead. Sounds improbably--but I believe he is telling the truth.

That was before my time, of course. I was a child of the sixties and seventies, when DDT was steadily wiping out the population of all birds but most especially the big birds of prey--Ospreys and Eagles. I never saw an Osprey until I went to the Texas coast in my young adulthood, and I don't recall seeing a bald eagle until I went out west to Yellowstone.

I remember well the excitement when they began nesting again at Land Between the Lakes and Reelfoot Lake in the early eighties. He writes,
An active reintroduction hacking program began in Tennessee in 1980 with the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency, Tennessee Valley Authority, and Tennessee Conservation League began working together on the project, The following year, young eagles were released at Land Between the Lakes in West Tennessee's Stewart Count and at Reelfoot Lake. In 1983 a mated pair of unknown original successfully nested and raised one eagle at Cross Creek National Wildlife Refuge near Dover, also in Steward County, and an eagles hacked at LBL successfully nested at a  second location at Cross Creek the Following year. Bald eagles were returning to Tennessee.

I was a young college student then, and both me and my dad were pretty excited at the idea of eagles in West Kentucky (okay, west Tennessee) again.  And now, I see them whereever I go. They're common as mud. Hurray!

Flash, and three more

 Donna Ball Dogleg Island Mystery #1
(also #2, 3 and 4)

I suspected I was going to like these mysteries since I've like everything else she's written--so far. And I was right. She also has a few books of the "western" genre--I might try those next.

She tried an experiment in this series--nearly killing her main character in the very beginning. (That's not a spoiler; you'd know it from the cover) Oddly, the experiment worked--having the detective nearly die in the first episode left all sorts of problems for her to deal with. Very interesting.

Also she branched out in her dog characterization, letting the main dog have thoughts that we don't normally think of dogs having. It made me chuckle a time or two. But I like her writing well enough to give her a little "poetic license", if you will.

So to sum up, I loved them all. The plots are good, too, and none of the police people are total idiots.

The Pants of Perspective

Louisiana Rambles
Exploring America's Cajun and Creole Heartland
by Ian McNulty

An excellent rambling romp through the Cajun lands and the coast of Louisiana. I wish I'd read it before traveling there--I consider it recommended reading for all potential travelers.  It's not a travel guide or a travel log; it jumps all over and covers hit-and-miss parts of the state that he visits. Some of it is simply factual, although the facts are pleasantly and openly colored by his own considered options. For instance, he describes the different flavors of andouille available in an area where small-time butchers create their crafts. He doesn't say this one is "better" or "worse", but he does tell the characteristics that make him prefer one over the other.

One chapter has a nice long list of restaurants, all of which I want to visit one day. But he more-or-less concludes that you're likely to find great food at even the most unlikely of off-road dumps. I think I once read that "there's no such thing as a bad Cajun cook." I'm sure he would agree.

The only off-putting part of the book for me are the chapters where he describes getting wasted and partying hearty with natives. Yes, I understand that's a part of enjoying the Cajun experience. In my younger days I'd have never said no to a brew or three to wash down the crawfish tails and brighten up the conversation. But, sadly, it leaves the non-imbibing a little saddened. I skipped those chapters, although they were as interesting and amusing as all the rest of this excellent book.

Mammoth Goes Home

 Saturday,  February 6

Nothing much planned and nothing much happened. It was misty rainy all day, off and on. We took the usual walks and I tried to jog for a bit, but there was no place much to go and it started raining on me. Plus I got distracted by some little sparrows hanging out on the rocks and grass by the side of the road.

Ed and I walked the dogs out to the dam and locks. It didn't appear to be the kind of dam that makes a lake, but rather, just one to hold back water in the case of floods. We went as far as we could but the dam area was restricted and there was a coast guard facility on the ground between the river and the diversion.

After that I tried work a little, and somehow time mysteriously evaporated until before I knew it, it was time for the late afternoon dog walk and then supper. The parties in the park were somewhat subdued, probably due to the cold and misty weather, but we could still hear the stupid thum-thum-thum when the TV was off. But no matter--we're binge-watching Castle episodes and so the TV is rarely off.

Sunday February 7

We left the park at 10:08, which was very good considering that we had to hook up the tow dolly and load the car. Plus, since we had a full-hookup site, Ed went ahead and washed out the black water tank into the sewer. Nice to have sewer, but not worth the price or "amenities" of a private RV park. We'll continue to avoid them in future.

It was very chilly--45 degrees--and overcast. There were thin spots in the clouds at places, but they never broke up until we were well into Texas. But at least there was no wind.

In future I'll refer to Louisiana as The Land of the Great White Bird. Everywhere you go there are Great Egrets.

I-49 from Lafayette to Shreveport is a boringly lovely drive. Nothing to look at, but that means there's nothing to slow us down, either. Just nice wide (although often bumpity) Interstate Highway.

We had a quick stop and dog walk at the rest stop on I-20 just over the Texas border. Then a 10-minute gas fill-up at QT truck stop in Greenville. We pulled into the driveway at 3:10 after a trip of 306.0 miles. By 4:06 we were hooked up and unloaded. Game over.

NOTES:
1. For longer trips, throw a few iced tea bags in; double up on the Pretzel Bits and other snacks
2. Always put the cooler bag and a few freezer packs in to use during travel. It's easy enough to get up and walk to the fridge while Mammoth is moving, but I don't like doing it. It's much easier to pack lunch before getting on the road.
3. When planning trips, count on stopping for gas every 250 miles or 4-1/2 hours of driving.
4. Check out fishing on the Red River and consider bringing the boat to Colfax RV park sometime in the spring or fall
5. Check out these state parks in LA: Cypremont Point, Lake Fausse Pointe, and Palmetto Island
6. The book I started reading, Louisiana Rambles by Iam McNulty, is excellent. I wish I'd read it before the trip. Apparently when we were at Tickfaw we were very close to two makers of excellent Andouille Sausage. Author's opinion, of course
7. Buy again: Margaret Holmes Seasoned Field Peas and Snaps
8. See if you can make tofu into a spread suitable for cracker sandwiches. Also get a jar of pineapple cream cheese and some fake lunch meat.

Final note
Louisana has some superb state parks. Come back here when the pandemic is over, and eat lots of Cajun food!  Boudin, fresh cracklin's, crawfish etauffee. We should be able to buy some Stansel's Gourmet rice locally, too, and save the $20 shipping we've been paying.

To Colfax RV Park

 Friday, February 5

Leaving day at last. On the previous night we'd taken the RV over to the dump station--excuse me, "holding tank disposal facility"--and dumped, then returned to our spot and parked a few yards further up so Ed could put the car back on the tow dolly. If we'd known we weren't going to use the car, we could have left it hooked up the whole time. The spaces are absurdly long.

Google maps had our route as a 4:50 trip, so we wanted to get an early start. We left the park at 9:41, but remember, it takes almost 10 minutes to wind through the campground at 10 miles per hour and get to the exit.

So off we went, through the empty beach town to the long drive up Highway 1 and off the island. On the way we observed that all of the houses have names, displayed on prominent signs on a front wall. M&Ms and Go Tigers are a few of the ones I remember; wish I'd written some of them down. The names were vaguely amusing, but most were pretty dumb. I suggested that the names might be replacements for house numbers but Ed saw some numbers, too.

Of course we got behind a truck hauling some sort of road grader. No passing on the narrow road, so we followed him a long way. He wasn't going all that slow--just slow enough to be annoying. But eventually we were off the island and heading north and we had to make the decision whether to go up to I-10 and Baton Rouge, the route we'd come down on, or head due west on US-90 toward Lafayette. The US-90 route was 20 minutes faster, plus it was more interesting, so I chose it.

We knew it was going to be a long drive, and it was. Soon it began raining and it continued raining for most of the drive. Horrible. Luckily there wasn't a lot of traffic, but there was enough to make it miserable. I mean, for Ed. I wasn't driving but I wasn't exactly enjoying myself either.

Peculiar roads that lift up to let boats pass through:

Early on, when I was looking down at the map, Ed told me that there were birds all over and when I looked up, I'd missed them. On a flooded field which we were just then passing there had been thousands of birds, and overhead there were V after V of flocks heading...where?  We were supposed to be traveling northwest at the time, and so they appeared to be heading southwest. In February?  Possibly the road had veered a little and they were really going westward, heading toward Texas and planning to end up in the northern states somewhere.

I have no idea what they were. Big, and flying in Vs.

The road became four lane,  limited access with wide shoulders; the signs indicated it was the "future corridor of I-49". But just as I was getting comfortable (as a passenger, of course, I should always be comfortable. But when you're looking down at your lap reading the map or the birdbook or something and then you glance up and see brakes lights glaring in your face, it makes even a passenger a little jumpy.)

Anyway, just as I was getting comfortable, the road went through some little development or other and suddenly there were cars turning and cars crossing and buildings all over. And repeat. And repeat. And then we got into Lafayette.

Wow. I don't see how this road could ever become a "corridor" since it goes right through the heart of a crummy part of town, with some very old houses and junky stores. There are six very narrow lanes, no median, and stoplights galore. The houses reminded me of the ones in downtown Paducah, where I grew up. Most likely they were built in the 1940s or so, little one-bedroom shacks with asphalt siding and tiny backyards.

It wasn't at all what I would have expected of a city so well-known as Lafayette, but then we obviously weren't going through the really old section or the downtown. Just one of the outer rings of a town where people crowded in after the war, happy to have a house of their own--even if that meant you could toss a softball in the air and end up hitting your neighbor's windows. Just like where I grew up.

Eventually we were on I-49 and moving rapidly, and then we had to stop. It was just a truck stop, a Love's, where we did a quick fill-up at the truck pumps. Ed would prefer to use the car pumps but they were too short and crowded. Even the truck pumps were really busy, in fact, the truck driver who pulled in behind us got tired of waiting while Ed was spending ten minutes topping off the tank to the very brim. He backed up and moved to another spot. I didn't think big trucks could do that, but he sure did. Maybe they have backup cameras nowadays.

Add to notes: Love's travel stops have dog parks. We didn't use the dog park this time because the dogs had just gotten a walk at the I-49 Rest Area a half-hour before.

It was a quick trip down narrow, but very driveable roads to Colfax RV Park. It's an odd place. According to the man at the gate, it was built by the Corp of Engineers for the River Authority who now own and manage it. It's very pleasant but tiny, with a barely navigable street in a loop through two rows of RV sites fronting an offshoot of the Red River. It appears that the river split at this point and the COE put up a dam on one of the sides, making a little pocket of water for boat parking.

The RV sites are really close together (note to self, write a review of this place) but nice and long with 50-amp power, water hookup and, in our site, sewer. Very nice sites but not much room around them. Cramped.

We're situated such that our door and picnic table have no view of the river--it's blocked by the Mammoth's bulky side--but our other window has a nice view of the boat ramp. Lovely sarcasm, did you get it?

The sunset was glorious in clouds. Did I mention it stopped raining?  Just after we took in fuel, a line of sky appeared to the west and the clouds disappeared behind us.

We arrived at at 2:58 but checking in took a horrible long time. It appeared that my reservation had only held the site, not paid for it. When I walked back to the RV to get my wallet, two trucks with trailers pulled in behind us and the drivers of the trailers walked up to the window and got waited on first. I wasn't angry--it made sense to get them moving while I was off getting my wallet, but I wasn't happy about waiting ten minutes or more with the engine running and the poor dogs stuck inside.

We weren't parked and unloaded until 3:55. 

 -------------- review ----------------
Colfax RV Park
$32/night but half off with America the Beautiful/Golden Age passport

Very nice, but cramped. We had a full hookup site on the row by the boat ramp. Although our picnic table's view was blocked by the RV body, the back windows had  nice views of the Red River diversion channel--past the parking lot and through the electric wires. So it's not exactly scenic, but perfectly adequate as a stop-off from places east to places west. Or if you bring a boat, more than adequate.

Inside roads are good but very narrow--our 32-foot RV with toad went around okay, but if we had been any longer, we'd have had to cut across grass at the turns. The driveways are very long but very narrow and they don't want you to put out a mat in front of your door. (Kills the grass). So we had to step up and down on wet grass to get in and out. No biggy, but annoying. Their site drainage is excellent; despite two days of rain there were no big puddles anywhere. A few scattered trees but not much shade; it would be hot and muggy here in summer.

The park is very well maintained and very clean. Didn't need the restrooms. Supposedly free washer/dryers--didn't check. Free, but slow, Wi-Fi. There is a recreation hall but there was a wedding going on so I didn't go inside. The boat ramp is a dream, with about 22 berths and electric hookups. Fish cleaning station with electricity.

If only the driveways and road had been a few feet wider, sites a little larger, and covers over the picnic tables, I'd call the facilities excellent.

We were there on a weekend and there was a loud party across from us, late into the night. (Went to bed at 11pm and turned on the noise-blocking fan to shut it out) Luckily, no music and no car engines or such--just people hanging out, getting drunk and whooping it up. During the day it was quiet with families and small children.  Nice grassy areas for kids to play ball on. There were a few unleashed dogs and a lot of people parking on the grass despite empty parking nearby. Not a problem for us but it suggests that if rules aren't being enforced, it might be unpleasant to be here during summer and on holiday weekends. Unless, of course, you're the one hosting the party.

Last Day at Grand Isle

Thursday February 4

Notes from the time:
Last day at this place. I like it, a lot, but I'm ready to leave. Two months from now this place will be awash with warblers, but right now it's awash with a single species: yellow-rumped warblers (I call 'em butterbutts). Also mockingbird, a few phoebe, and a handful of House Sparrows which I haven't seen since Paducah. House sparrows are an import from England, and they flock in cities and nest in eaves. Making a huge mess.

Every gull which I've identified has been a pied-billed gull, same as we have back home. Oh, no-that's a mistake. I did see a herring gull or two, and a laughing gull. Out on the beach. There are no gulls around the campground, just an occasional flyover. Which is odd.

There are rabbits in the bushes, but I haven't seen the foxes or bobcats that should be eating them. I may have seen bobcat poop on the trail. Speaking of poop--Molly has given herself runny bowels from all the crap she's been eating off the ground. Serves her right--but I'm the one who has to deal with it.

After breakfast Ed and I went out to the beach with the goal of walking east to the big tower and its long walkway to the fishing pier, set way high up over the surf. It would be interesting to know how shallow the water is down there, but I'm not walking out there to find out for sure--cold, and dangerous. I'd guess not more that six feet deep. Ocean shore depth is tricky because it varies so much depending on where the wave is at--one minute you're down to your ankles, next minute up to your chest. Or worse.

We made it to the walkway. We could see that the groups of rocks protecting the shore come to and end down there when the shore bends around to the north. The beach is closed--posted against trespassers--just past the fishing pier. Protected habitat for shore birds. I approved, greatly, but I did so want to keep walking!

There were lots of dolphins out in the water, along with all the usual water birds. From the walkway we could see White Pelicans mixed in with the crew. We have plenty of White Pelicans back home, wintering on the Texas lakes, but it's unusual to see them on the ocean. While we watched, from time to time a huge crew of waterbirds would fly up and mill around in masses, then settle back down on the beach. What was stirring them?  I didn't see any harriers or other hawks out there. Just doing the seabird shimmies, I guess.

After we returned I took Molly for a jog around the nature trail, although I won't pretend I jogged more than a third of it. Even at my best I find it hard to jog on chunks of gravel, and those chunks were huge and tippy. After you pass the front gate the trail becomes sandy dirt with lots of vines along the ground that grab your ankles and try to trip you up. We got our exercise, but I wouldn't call it jogging by any account.

After that there was only time for a quick lunch and then Ed and I wanted to take showers so he could unhook the utilities, go dump our tanks, and re-hook it with the car loaded on the tow dolly. So we can get a quick start tomorrow, hurray!

If times had been normal and we'd have been able to go explore the little shops in Grand Isle, or if we'd had the Jeep and been able to go to the nearby beach that is famous for good shelling AND for allowing dogs, I'd not have been in such a hurry to leave. But basically, we'd been here and done this. It was fun, but not enough fun to want to stay there indefinitely.

The one thing I wanted to do is go walk on the beach one last time, but I took Molly with me so we were limited to staying on the boardwalk. We could see the water well, and the storm clouds coming in from the cold front which was sweeping through:

And we could hear the waves. Lovely sound. When we first arrived at the park, the wind was blowing from the north and we couldn't hear the ocean at the campsite at all. But on the third and fourth days, the wind calmed down. The ocean was near!

Grand Isle Bird Summary
Sanderlings, Laughing Gull, Pied-billed Gull, probable Herring Gull. Brown Pelican. Tricolored Heron, probably Little Blue Heron, probable Snowy Egret. Osprey. Ibis, dark-colored, species unknown. 

Cormorant sp.. White Pelicans and one Brown Pelican (center front):

Black Skimmer in front; Royal Tern in back:

Royal Terns, with one Black Skimmer at the far left front:

Yellow-rumped Warbler, Mockingbird, English (House) Sparrow, Cardinal, Starling, Red-Winged Blackbird. Very likely Common Loon.

Another lovely (cold) day at Grand Isle

Wednesday, February 3 2021

So it was Day 7 of the journey and I finished up the last of my tuna salad. I still had tofu left but I had to throw away the rice balls. Note to self: made again but add Sriracha, make them smaller, and freeze half.

I was running low on Pretzel Bits and the jug of iced tea was about gone. Next time I need to throw in a few iced tea bags,  for emergencies.  Eggs and orange juice were holding up well. Not sure about the jelly beans. And oddly enough, salad was running short. I'd thought a bag would make three meals, but I had already gone through two bags...oh. That was six meals, and it had been seven days. So no surprise. In future, I should bring more salad but I really need to remember to put it in the middle of the refrigerator where it doesn't freeze.

I also need to come up with a lunch/snack food that is portable, easy to eat on the road and not too fattening. I'd planned to try making taquitos again, but didn't get around to it. Amy's burritos would be  nice, but no good for traveling because I never seem to remember to heat them up the morning of departure. The idea of eating one frozen does not appeal.

After our pancake breakfast, Molly and I went walking through the dunes and fed a horde of hungry mosquitos. No birds, though. I was hoping to see another of those annoying little sparrows that f;ush out of the grass, look at me, then dart back into cover. I'd have been ready for it this time.

 
Then Ed and I went out walking on the beach again. Saw dolphins a lot, including a pair that appeared to have been a mother and child--one was distinctly smaller than the other and they kept very close together. Thrashing around in the water lots, too--were they playing or eating?

 

Then Molly and I took a walk around the nature trail. This time we started at the side to the left (okay, south?) of the entrance station. The trail there was barely a path through the marsh. It went around a small pond and then crossed the road at the entrance and became the other half, the one I'd walked before.

I saw three birds in the pond--one was white and the size of a snowy egret, one was clearly a tricolored heron, and one that looked exactly like a little blue heron. But they were grouped together closely. Strange.

Molly flushed something fluttery and interesting at a small stream running across the trail. I never saw it.

Sadly, that's all I noted for the day. But it was a lovely evening!

Mammoth at Grand Isle

 Tuesday February 2

From my notebook:
I am sick and tired of being cold! Yes, I know it's wintertime, and I know it needs to be cold. Kill some fleas and keep the bees hibernating and make the cold-sensitive bulbs bloom. But I'm cold!

It's 43 this morning and "feels like 37". That's because the blasted wind is still blowing. Apparently some monster of a low pressure system is on the coast up north and pulling cold air down with it.

The trees around the campsites here are full of little birds. I've seen butter-butts and phoebes and mockingbirds, but I suspect there are a lot more, too. But it's too cold to stand outside and look at them.

Walked out to the ocean that morning with Ed. We turned to the right (westerly, I guess) away from the wind. Out in the ocean there were intermittent piles of rocks making a sort of breakwater. We passed the first two or three, then as we were approaching the next one I took a closer look. It was covered with birds!

Herring gulls, probably other gulls. Black Skimmer. Cormorants. A few ducks. And then Ed spied a mammal in the water, actively feeding. When he swam his dorsal fin extended above the water and his body looked very long. But I couldn't get a picture of him. After much research, we postulated it might be a killer whale. (On the next day we saw dolphins, so probably that's what it was.)

 

Later Molly and went for a "jog" down the road to the coast guard station, then back and around the nature trail.  Pied-billed gulls, tricolored Heron, Great Egret, Little Blue Heron, Osprey (very common; patrolling the campground, too). Red-winged blackbirds. And some dead animal on the ground that Molly decided to consume. I got the tip of its  tail away from her; best I could do.

The nature trail starts from a parking lot past a huge restroom building, goes out as asphalt and large chunks of gravel, goes over a short boardwalk, then turns into wood shavings and then sand. It's as though they experimented with every sort of substrate possible.

From the top of the boardwalk I hoped to see water birds in the marshes, but no such luck. You really have to be in the right place for that. There were Brown Pelican on the bay near the pond, but that was all.

On the way back I found myself growing more and more alarmed that the route was taking me way out of my way. I even considered getting out my phone to check the navigation. But there was really no need--to my right there was the fence around the park and a road just past it, and to my left there was the pond. Sooner or later I'd have to get back to the entrance road--or end up against a fence or a pond and have to backtrack the whole way. In the dark.

But my fears were groundless. It was only ten minutes to the entrance, and from there I knew my way back to Mammoth.

Lovely day; lovely walk. But cold.

Mammoth Goes to Grand Isle State Park

Monday February 5
Tickfaw State Park to Grand Isle State Park

We left at 10:00 for the dump station, then left the park at 10:46. (We had to load the car on the tow dolly after dumping; that's why it took so long) Dang, it had gotten cold overnight. Note from the night before: during the 8:30 p.m. dog walk, the frogs were loud! How is that possible, since they're cold-blooded creatures:. Or do amphibians have an internal heat source?

The drive for the day was a "shortish" three hours to Grand Isle State Park. It seemed a lot longer because the last hour of the three was on narrow roads--and bridges, of course, since this is southern Louisiana--going thirty miles per hour. I found myself not looking forward to making this drive in the reverse direction in four days.

After a short gas stop at a nice little truck stop on Highway 1, we arrived at 1:50 pm. The trip odometer said 145.2 miles. Hookups were complete by 2:18. Nice.

 
On the way, after crossing the toll bridge ($4.50 or so) to the island, we drove past miles and miles of beach houses. There were only a few restaurants and only two grocery stores, however, there might have been some more off the main drag. On our right (ocean side) the houses were only a single row deep, but on the bay side there were four or more rows of houses and some industry off in the distance, but not all that far in the distance--if you'd been standing on the Mammoth roof top, you could have easily seen the water on either side of the barrier island.  There were a few cars here and there but the whole place seemed oddly deserted. Off season, I guess.

 

The campground was immaculate--a perfectly groomed, mathematically calculated line of RV sites on a perfectly cleared and mowed field. The sites were pull-through and very long, long enough that we could leave the tow dolly hitched, park the car in front, and still have room in front for another car if we had one. There were two rows of sites with the road looping around the outside and down the middle; on the other side of the road the grass was mowed for six yards or so and then little trees were grown up all around.

Although the park itself was very clean, there was trash in the low trees and brush all around. Not nearly as much as I've come to expect around parks in Texas. Just a little litter here and there.

 

We could see the ocean from our Mammoth RV--but only if we climbed up to the roof. I did it, just to prove the point--and I hate going up that ladder! The dogs and  I took a short walk through the brush and over the dunes, and there we could see the ocean easily. If only dogs were allowed on the beach!

It was colder than snot and very windy. Well, technically it was in the low fifties, but with a 15 to 20 mile-per-hour wind it seemed frigid. The birds in the trees weren't upset by the wind, but I notice they were mostly keeping close to the trees. Phoebes and yellow-rumped warblers were all I saw that day.

Mammoth stays at Tickfaw another day

 Sunday, January 31 2021

From my notes for the day:
January is ending and there's just four short weeks until I can start actively scanning the skies for migrating warblers. And buntings, and orioles, and tanagers, etc. For now, we've just got the normal, birds who've been here all winter. I'm taking my binoculars in a bit, along with the dog, for some serious bird watching. I saw a couple of robin-like birds in the bushes this morning which could have been Veery--but no binoculars.

The bird-watching episode turned out to be different from expected--Ed came along and we took Zack down to the Alligator Crossing spot on the road. We stared and stared into the muck, but no alligators appeared. Then we walked back, stopping at Mother Tree where I saw nothing until Ed pointed out a bevy of small birds in the trees right in front of me. Chickadees and Butter-butts and one small bird that was very likely that warbler with no especial markings on it. But I didn't have the camera and I couldn't tell using just the binoculars.

After that we went back by the laundry room, where Ed went inside to check the price of the washers. He thought it must have been 25-cents, because there was only a quarter-sized coin slot. We only had one real quarter and one Filipino quarter between us, but we decided to do a single load and then see if the Filipino quarter would work in the dryer.

(Later, when I went back to do the load, I read the LED over the washer controls as  175. Which was a lot more likely to be the real price--$1.75 per load.  You'd still have to put in a quarter at a time--seven times!  So I didn't even try my measely two quarters.)

But before this, we walked on down to the bridge on the way to the front gate. and there, right at the top of the clear, non-algae topped water, was an alligator!

A smallish one, about four feet long. He moved a little to and fro, just hanging out in the water with his eyes exposed. I didn't get a picture, but here's a little friend in our campsite:

Last note about Tickfaw State Park: the best spots are 27 and the two on the far side (smaller numbers) of the volleyball court. But those might be noisy on weekends--that end of the park was where all the party was. But any site on the outside of the loop would be okay, preferring the ones near the end of the loop like the one we had. Our site pics:

Mammoth Dozes at Tickfaw State Park

 Saturday, January 30 2021

After sleeping a tad late (7:30) and fixing pancakes for breakfast, I took Molly for a long "jog". My leg was hurting worse than ever, and I was slow even for me. We went down the road, past the restroom and tent camping area, toward a pavilion and some trailheads. We took a trail that said it was 3/4 mile to the river, and it's possible that we went that far. But I'm not sure--we stopped when the trail ended at a little fishing pier out in a small river. I overheard some people saying that the trail kept on going after a left-turn at the river.

Spots of slick mud dotted the trail so I had to slow down and walk through them. My shoes got a little messy, but no big problem. At least I wasn't slogging with soaked feet the whole time, and I didn't have to peel off my socks the moment I returned to Mammoth.

There were three cyclists that overtook me on the trail, but other than that it was deserted until I started back. Then I met a group of about four people and two kids, then later a single lady with a mask on. But no animals at all, and only a few butterbutts and wrens in the brush.

And this wren, probably a House Wren:

On the road we had passed a short boardwalk to Mother Tree, a huge old cypress that was a lone remnant of the ones that used to populate the swamp. The signage explained that the big trees had been cut down in the early 1900s, leaving only ones that were rotten on the inside or otherwise inaccessible. Since Cypresses tend to "flare out" at the bottom, the loggers would construct a scaffold at the top of the flared portion and just saw the trees from the point where they slimmed down. As we were walking around, I looked for trees that had been cut like that but didn't see any. I suspect it was too long ago--it had been eighty or ninety years since the logging boom in the cypress swamps.

After my walk, Ed and I took a drive in search of the nature trail at Joyce Wildlife Management area. We found it, but only after passing it up by about eight miles and tracking back.

What a glorious swamp! We walked the short boardwalk to the end, peering into the scum-covered water in search of alligators, turtles, or whatever, but saw nothing except yellow-rumped warblers. I later did the research and found out that alligators go inactive (there's a special word for it, but it's not the same as hibernation) from October until March. So the chances of seeing an alligator in January are like, zilch.

But it was indeed glorious. I wish it had been twenty miles longer.

Then back to camp,where I ate lunch and inexplicably took a dozing-sort-of nap which wasted away the rest of the afternoon and screwed up my sleep that night. But no matter. I'd planned to be working on contract work for the time, so napping was preferable.

The campground was noisy, although our particular site was pleasant enough. It was a little too chilly to want to sit outside without a fire, so I only noticed the noise when I went for the evening dog walk. Typically I try to do the last walk sometime between 8:30 and 9:00, although with the earlier dark and the chill of winter, it's temping to do it even earlier than 8:30. But still, I'm asking the dogs to hold their business for over ten hours, from evening walk until morning walk (7:30-ish), so it would be mean to stretch the period much longer.

Molly and I walked in the dark toward the restroom and the road that goes out of the park, hoping to repeat the pleasant walk away from all the other campers that we'd taken on the previous night. But we'd barely gotten twenty yards when she went crazy, trying to attack the trees on either side. With my weak human senses, all I could see was a pool of water on the side of the road. But I'm sure she was hot on the scent of an armadillo or some such evil creature of the night that plagues her existence.

So we turned back, picked up Zack, and walked toward the other campsites in our loop. There was a bit of loud partying going on, but no critters. At one point a pickup truck took off and roared around the campground going way more than the 5-mile per hour speed limit, revving his already-loud engine up louder. He left, and I'm sure I wasn't the only person glad to see him go.

And all quiet for the night. Except for the very loud swamp critters.

Mammoth heads to the swamp - Tickfaw State Park

Friday, January 29
At 10:57 we headed to the dump. And at 11:12 we were leaving the dump station behind and heading out.

Bye, North Toledo Bend!

 

 

 

LA-6 turned out to be an okay road, but very rough. It's called the "El Camino Real" original route. But it needs repairs! I assume the original riders on the road were on foot or horseback--it's sure not suitable for RVs.

The terrain was very hilly and piney up north, but as we went south it became flat with scrubby deciduous trees on either side.

q: What is the Cane River Creole National Historic Park?

Then it became piney again. We went through a 15-mile long (at least) river bottom. I can't even imagine the amount of highway construction money it cost to create an elevated, four lane divided highway through the middle of a flood plain. After we passed through Alexandria the land started getting very flat. As in pancake flat. We lost the pine trees and entered a hardwood forest (leafless, of course), floored with palmetto.

We had to go through Baton Rouge to get on I-12. I say "had to" because the google navigator suggested that if we took the I-110 route instead of the one I'd chosen, we'd save ten minutes. And I trusted it. I hope it was the right choice, because the route we ended up on had heavy and very slow traffic for miles.

We made a quick stop at the I-49 rest area so the dogs could get a walk. Then we made a nearly disastrous fill-up at a Pilot gas station--the station was a little cramped to get into and the 'car' pumps were full, but we easily pulled into a truck pump. But then when we tried to leave, the truck exit was routed around the back and out onto a little four-lane street, with backed up traffic in both directions and only a few cars getting through at each cycle of the stoplight. A very nice guy driving a red pickup truck let us out, otherwise we'd have been there until midnight. And it was only 4:00 or so at the time!

Big city and suburb traffic always stinks, so I shouldn't be surprise. I hope the route back avoids big cities, but if it doesn't, I may re-route us.

On the other hand, getting over to I-110/I-10/I-12 in the first place was not exactly a joy. We were on smallish roads, a Louisiana state highway and a few US highways. But they went through all the small towns.  And the road surfaces were out of this world crummy!  It reminded me of US-75 through Oklahoma, with periodic craters that would shake your teeth out. They did shake out the plug for our toad (tow vehicle)'s extra brake lights that we have mounted on the roof. Apparently the plug bounced along the road for a number of miles, because the pointy things that plug into the socket were worn down to nubs.

We arrived fairly early, 4:38 at the gate, and by 5:26 (or so) we were done with hookups. We'd gone 274.7 miles per the trip odometer.

I made this note:
So we had to leave our lovely campground with almost no people and a water view, to drive four hours across Louisiana to get to Tickfaw State Park.  Which is in a swamp. And full--almost completely full--of people. Kids and bikes and dogs running loose; music played too loudly.  People and cars everywhere! It's a little city out here!

Clearly, I was not pleased. I noted that later I would get on google maps see if there were some day trips we could take to get away from the place.

One good thing I had to say--it was dark when night fell!  Really, really dark.  I hoped that maybe on Sunday night some three-quarters of these other people would leave and we could enjoy some night life.

Molly got awfully excited by some invisible critter at the end of an empty site. Maybe we'll see if...if ever all the people leave.

Other than the lack of scenery, the campsite is awfully nice.  Really long concrete pad and a little patio for the picnic table. Some of the sites have patios but others just have a freshly graveled spot. It's really very nice here, except for the lack of a view, privacy, and silence.

Mammoth Goes to Louisiana

 Thursday, January 28 2021
Trip to North Toledo Bend Reservoir, Tickfaw State Park, Grand Isle State Park and Colfax RV park.

What a crap trip this started off to be. At the end of the day we were in a very lovely place with very few people, but the start of it was late and the circumstances unpleasant--Jeep not ready, having to hook up the tow dolly for the car, etc. I don't want to write down the other trivial nonsense because I don't want to remember it.

We didn't leave until after noon (12:24), so the best we could hope for was to get in by 5:15. And we actually hit that goal--but it seemed much later. By the time we hooked up and I got freed up to take pictures, it was getting dark:

We'd taken 69 down to I-20. I'm not sure that was the best route--it was an okay road, but awfully wavy and bumpy. It had big shoulders, but went through tons of small towns--Point, Emory, Albe... Every ten miles, another small town and another 40 mph speed limit with traffic lights. Blah.

When we were finally on I-20, I made a note that road construction was causing a LONG westbound back up just this side of Longview and that we should check and possibly avoid that stretch of road on the way back. (Of course, we completely forgot)  Next we had an annoying gas stop in Mansfield at a little privately owned "truck stop". The idiot at the cash register couldn't simply look out the window and see which pump we were on. So back out I went to ask Ed, and he said 7. So the guy supposedly turned on 7. I went back out--no gas. So we decided it was 8 and told the guy to turn on 8. No gas. I went back in. Eventually Ed was ready to give up and just leave, but I knew there were no other gas stops on the rest of our route.

Just on a hunch, he tried the other pump #7, on the opposite side of the pump and it worked. How it made sense, to have two different pumps with the same number, I cannot father. But luckily the hose stretched around the pump and to our tank. From now on we're sticking to big Interstate highway truck stops whenever possible.

After all that fun, we arrived at the park at 5:15 after going 271.9 miles.

The site is on a hill at the edge of the lake, pleasantly nestled amid lots and lots of tall pine trees. So we didn't have an unobstructed view of the water, but we did have a view. It was lovely! The campground was very nice. Good roads, big sites, privacy, lake peeping through the trees. The very only thing bad I could say is that there were streetlights scattered here and there; every ten or fifteen sites. We were lucky not to be directly underneath one--honestly, I had no idea there was any such a thing as streetlights in a campground!  And now this makes two in a row!

So remember this: don't choose campsites without trying to see where the streetlights are. No to #44 and #46; avoid #45. #47 is okay. All the sites without streetlights were fine, and of course, the ones on the water were superb. Like the one we had. Some of the sites are long enough to park the boat at, and in fact, this would be a great place to take a boat to. The reservoir is on the border between Texas and Louisiana, so the only issue might be figuring out which state to get a fishing license from.

I was very sorry not to be able to stay at this place longer. I'd originally booked it for two nights, which would have been perfect, but we had to leave a day late and so give up the first night. There were several trails I might have walked, including one that went out to a "sunset point" view of the lake.  We walked a few yards along one but that was all.