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Published: February 28th 2007
Campsites
Some campsites can be superb -like this one at TitusvilleMotorhome News from North America 36 15th - 28th February 2007
The state of Texas
What is it about this little bit of Texas? We might be in the south, but the familiar, ‘How y’all doin,’ greeting has all but vanished, replaced by a wave and a friendly, ‘Hello’, or, ‘Good morning’, as we pass complete strangers. It’s a fact that most of the people we meet here are from far away, from the northern United States and Canada where the cold and damp gets to the bones in the grip of winter when grey hair eventually forces you into retirement, and dreaming of warmer climes interrupts the slumber on a nightly basis. Southeast Texas is not a pretty place, the Rio Grande has virtually silted up and no longer discharges into the Gulf of Mexico, the land is flat and featureless and the word, architecture, has not yet found its way into the dictionary. So, why do they all come here? Well, they come to find the sun (or, conversely, to escape the cold), to walk the sandy beaches and sample fresh seafood by the sea, to see the birds and butterflies west along the Valley - and
Campsites
But this one was more like a car park! many come to share time with their special winter friends at their second home. Tens of thousands shelter here in their motorhomes, fifth-wheelers or mobile homes on RV sites in ‘winter Texan country’, anytime from November until April, when the temperatures start to rise above comfortable levels and they turn on their heels to migrate back north. In Florida, another winter hotspot, they sit out the sunny winter in their high-rise condos or walled and gated luxury estates - and in Arizona, in their winter house or one of many RV sites.
RV parks vary enormously and we have sampled many: from the cramped and muddy playing sardines with your neighbour, the wilderness National Parks, the luxury spacious estates of paved roads, sedate palm trees and rampant bougainvillea, and the truly commercial line-up, side-by-side surrounded by tow-trucks as if on a car park. They all have their attractions for the over 55’s who make up 99.5% of the campers down in this part of Texas, shedding the winter blues for continuous entertainment, friendship and leisurely pursuits, often beyond the boundaries of their ‘normal’ summer home townships - and at a fraction of the cost of sticking out the winter
Bentsen Palm Village RV Resort
Spacious and tidy. Amongst our favourites. Everyone smiling! back home. At Bentsen Palm Village, near Mission, there were a few hundred pitches on smart palm-lined roads.
There was magic in the air at Bentsen Palm Village, a welcome smile on every face, contentment and happiness in every heart. We could bathe in the pool, make free long distance US calls, plug in electrics, water, sewer and cable TV on site, and use the free wireless internet. There were daily card and domino clubs, a library, dog agility and human Spanish classes, golfing days, a photo-shop club, Red Hatters outings, jam sessions, a woodworking workshop, craft club, tours, line dancing, pizza nights, horseshoes and regular dances. One evening we joined with others for a talk about humming-birds, another at a blue-grass knees-up, hand clapping, knee slapping and toe tapping - and we shared one glorious day out with the birding group. Sadly, we left before the belly dancing at 7.30 on Wednesday evening. Now, that would have been fun!
The recent Valentine’s dance was out of this world - somewhere near Mars or Saturn to be precise. Music was provided by two over-the-hill guitar players - one still barely alive the other somewhat questionable, and the seating plan
graciously put us with six French Canadians - all in their 80’s without a touch of humour between their knives and forks. Each couple was identified at the table by a name card with the date of their wedding anniversary. Surprising as it might seem, Janice and I have been married longer than any of them! Evidently, second and third marriages are the norm. Perhaps RV’ing has that effect on people!
That particular site had a few hundred pitches, but the next had 2,500 and a clubhouse the size of Wembley Stadium. 600 people turned out that evening to watch a talented country singer, whose heyday was in the 70s, struggle to keep us all entertained in Butlins style without the Red-Coats. Her repertoire finished with an unexpected tribute to American servicemen and women and a somewhat sombre standing audience. Not a note to end a show on.
Reinforcement of patriotism and loyalty is clearly essential to a multicultural nation such as this, constantly at war. Such demonstrations came to an end shortly after the end of WWII in the UK, when the playing of ‘The Queen’ ceased at the end of the programme in cinemas.
They don’t
Some like 'em big
The Motorcoach. Home from Home celebrate Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras) down here in this part of Texas. That was left behind, along with the smiling black faces we had become accustomed to on our travels through Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana. Along the Rio Grande Valley, the only dark faces are those of the Spanish speaking Mexicans, many of them living on the flatlands and working the fertile fields for meagre wages. Cabbages, broccoli and onions are being harvested just now with the remnants of last season’s sugar cane. West from Mission the towns ring of their Spanish origins, Penitas, Cuevita, Zapata, and business signs portray their Mexican flavour: Garcia’s Welding Shop, Nachos Car Wash, El Camino Tire Service and Mendoza’s Autosales. There are fewer churches since we left the Deep South. There is less poverty too perhaps, but its presence seeps between the cracks, in unkempt houses, rusting vehicles and untidy yards.
Temperatures are rising at last as spring approaches. The stories of this bad winter in The Valley will soon be forgotten as the clear blue skies wipe away the memories of cooler days and the thermometer touches 96 degrees yet again. Such temperatures were unbearable when we travelled by motorhome in Europe,
but we’re able to handle the heat somewhat better here with on-board air conditioning.
Looking for owls also proved to be good for us. It was cool walking the footpaths from our camp at sundown, listening in the still air, crisp and clear as a crystal stream, for the calls of the Screech owls and Pygmy owls in Bentsen - Rio Grande State Park is just next door. The park is open to ‘birders’ 24/7 and we were up before the lark in the fresh mornings too, shining our flashlight on the road to pick out the bright eyes of Common pauraque (a nightjar) or a wandering javolina, awaiting the coming of bronze daylight in the tree-tops and the sensual ring of the dawn chorus. By midday the sun had reached its peak and we returned to Winnie for late breakfast, a cold shower and siesta - snoozing the day away to the welcome whirr of the air conditioning. It gets even hotter in the summer. Northern Texans (who also winter down here, by the way - it’s nearly 1,000 miles from the Rio Grande to the top of the State) will tell you a summer cold front can
The Fifth Wheeler
Luxury caravanning bring temperatures down from 105 degrees to 100 in just a few minutes!
We’ve had some good birding since arriving in Texas. The Birding Trails are well defined for the visiting twitcher (and we are fast changing from simple ‘birder’ to that other strange species), but the Texan birds are stunning: orioles, warblers, finches, buntings, hawks and kites, so many - and so many new to us! But, rather than bore you too much with our selfish country exploits in this flora and fauna rich area, we’ll add a list of a few of our 40 ‘Texan additions’ at the end of the blog exclusively for our feathery friends back home.
This week we want to open the window and let you into the secret world of the North American nomad.
Motorhomes and the like, (recreational vehicles, or RV’s as they are known) come in many forms, to suit the holiday needs, the chosen lifestyle, or the pocket of the individual. Some are used for summer weekends, some for long holidays and many here in North America for permanent living - the full timer, opting out of high property costs, utility overheads and taxes, and into the realm
of the nomad. A bit like a bag lady, I suppose, but not quite homeless.
Let’s start with Winnie. At 24ft, our Minnie Winnebago has suited our purpose well: reliable and powerful, compact enough to park most places and small enough to enable us to travel the narrow country roads, yet comfortable enough to call home for a year or more. This motorhome is robust and elementary, built by a manufacturer who was making RV’s before Julius Caesar had his first Tonka chariot. She also came at a price where depreciation over the period of our travels will not totally break the bank. Winnie is up for sale on a UK website, but so far, the one enquiry has come to nothing and it seems likely we’ll be here until June.
We could have chosen a 35ft (or more) motorcoach with fixed king-size beds, armchairs, cavernous fridges, cocktail cabinets, washing machines and the like, but that would have restricted our access to parks and reserves, limited parking and our choice of campgrounds. They come at a price - $100,000 up to $1m or two for something of similar age. These are often permanent homes, the owners having sold up
Airsteam
A touch of class; the Silver Palace - with Jon and Lynn their houses for a life on the road. We have yet to meet anyone who regrets it! The family car is usually towed behind en route, making the overall length something in the region of 60ft! There are many somewhat elderly motorcoaches on the road, some from way back in the 1960’s, still going, always cheap, but often unreliable. We didn’t plan to spend half our time with our heads under the bonnet (hood) - there’s too much to see and do, and too little time to worry with all that!
Trailers, or caravans as we might know them, come in many forms, from tiny or small to large or ridiculously huge. There are trailer tents with pop-ups and pop-outs at all angles, and there are ‘fifth wheelers’, more often than not towed behind big trucks and tractor units, and they can be truly enormous! These, too, are driven south for winter - three to six months on one site and rarely used for touring. The truck is handy for outings - fishing and shopping, but one of those rigs would severely cramp our nomadic style!
Then there are the smaller campervans; with sufficient room to sleep, perhaps
to cook - with or without loos or showers (usually available on sites). These would be rather too confined for us for a long period, but adequate for some for short - or long holidays. On one of our early morning walks we joined a sprightly couple in their 80’s, up before dawn to hear the birds every day, living from November to May in a VW type campervan.
Oh, and I nearly forgot. There are also toy haulers - trailers, (and sometimes, personalised motorhomes) with garages in the back for the ATV, the Harleys (his and hers), golf buggy or workshop. It is a way of life for many.
Back home in Europe the Brits, Dutch, Belgians and Germans head for Spain and Portugal for the winter as we have done in the past. Here it’s Florida, Texas, southern California and Arizona.
The narrow bumpy road suited Winnie, down past the tiny Catholic Church to Salineno Tract, a miniscule nature reserve of an acre or two hosted by Pat and Gale Dewind. Every birder we’ve met has told us this one should not be missed, so, let’s take a look. Pat and Gale have been living
the winters out in a motorcoach here for 23 years, feeding the birds outside their front door and lining up the garden chairs for the delight of inquisitive birders - arriving in droves at regular intervals in the hope of spotting a rarity. Sure enough, the rare brown jay and three different orioles (Audubons, Hooded and Altamira) turned up for us! The generous Dewind’s will be there until the wooden box arrives to carry them off, I guess. We found it difficult enough to leave after just two hours. About thirty English birders have signed the visitor’s book since 1993, including one couple from Bury St Edmunds, Peter and Georgina Pharaoh, surely members of our little RSPB Group?
The Border Patrol remains vigilant by the river at Salineno, making life tougher for the illegal Mexican immigrants and illicit drug smugglers who wade the Rio Grande at the dirt road crossing by the bird reserve. We followed the road upriver to Falcon Dam, as far west as we planned to go for the time-being, to where the fertile plains diminish and the sagebrush flourishes on the desert fringe, to where the scent of honey - mesquite rises sweetly on the
Germans do it big!
This German unit sleeps 16! Seen in Massachusetts balmy breeze, an inquisitive Harris hawk greets the sun from a broken branch, and meadow larks display their citrus breasts with pride.
We headed directly north once more, 250 miles on lonely roads to San Antonio, cutting arrow straight across undulating scrubby ranch-land to the shimmering horizon, grey sagebrush and the impenetrable thorns of mesquite, flowering yucca and prickly pear cactus, witness to the searing desert heat.
The road was blocked on a remote stretch of the road amidst arid grassland, treeless and bleak, where artesian wells water the longhorns and nodding donkeys pump vital resources into the veins of the nation. Another Border Patrol Post - another check for 'illegals' and a friendly smile. ‘English? Have a good trip,’ he said. I guess we were a welcome relief from the boring sequence of pipeline traffic, enormous trucks and lorries servicing the gas and oil lines further south.
Winnie will be taking a rest from travelling; staying on the secure campsite under lock and key whilst we travel to Houston by Greyhound Bus to catch our flight to Costa Rica tomorrow. Communications could well be curtailed for a while, but you’ll hear from us again for sure -
Border Patrol
On the look-out by the Rio Grande when we return in two weeks to continue our journey. With only a few days left on our US Visa, we're just hoping immigration will give us another six months to complete our circumnavigation of North America when we get back. But, who knows? We might just have to call on Lady Luck once more.
David and Janice. The grey-haired-nomads
Quote of the week: “Nice bit of cloud about at the moment!” That might be an oxymoron were it not for the shade and a welcome drop in temperature!
And, as promised, some of the birds we have been fortunate to see in Texas:
Brown Jay, Green Jay, Clay-coloured Robin, Eastern Screech Owl and Ferruginous Pygmy Owl, Olive Sparrow, Green Kingfisher, Ringed Kingfisher, Plain Chachalaca, Tropical Parula, Pyrrhuloxia, Whooping Crane, Altamira Oriole, Audubon’s Oriole and Hooded Oriole, Indigo Bunting, Aplomado Falcon, Gray Hawk, Black-bellied Whistling Duck, Common Pauraque, Couches Kingbird, Golden-fronted Woodpecker, Groove-billed Ani, Great Kiskadee, Harris Hawk - and so it goes on!
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