Across Texas Down to the Coast and Aransas

ROCKPORT, TEXAS – We left Lake Charles Tuesday and headed straight for Rockport, Texas. Cece said she could tell the difference as soon as we crossed the Sabine River into the Lone Star State. We confess that we have issues with Texas, not that anyone in this giant state could give a fig. Undoubtedly, it is because of Dallas 1964, George W. Bush, Rick Perry, Louie Gohmert, Ted Cruz, Big Oil and more. We tend to forget about Molly Ivins, Jim Hightower, Ann Richards, LBJ, Ralph Yarborough, etc.

Our path took us through Houston, and what a gleaming metropolis it is, now America’s fourth largest city. Seeing huge medical centers everywhere, extending now far into Sugar Land, one can’t help but recall the wonderful medical advances and accomplishments that have occurred there. But, with nary a traffic jam, we were soon through the city and headed for the coast near Corpus Christi.

Texas is so big and growing so fast, it's not hard to imagine why its top pols all think they should be President!

Southwest of Houston the ecology changes. Houston is green and humid, but soon we were out of that and in a region that opened up, prairie-like, with big trees getting sparse, and where we are now, close to the Gulf, has the look and feel of the dryer regions of Central America or the Caribbean. Still, there is plenty of water for agriculture. We saw very, very large fields of young cotton and milo (grain sorghum) used to feed livestock – very flat and taking up the horizon in every direction.

Rockport, our base, and neighboring Fulton were once, we think, rather laid back and modest fishing communities on Aransas Bay, but they seem to be experiencing a transition focused on recreational fishing, birding, retirement, and RV vacations. The area is still quite pretty and neither pretentious or tacky.

Selling fish and bait in Rockport.

Want a flat top? Here's the place, still.

Yesterday, Wednesday, we explored the region. The sky was a sharp blue with “Ben and Jerry clouds.” There are lovely bays and inlets and ponds everywhere. The wetland and other vegetation is spring green. The wildflowers are abundant. The Aransas National Wildlife Refuge and Goose Island State Park were striking—beautiful, peaceful and totally relaxing.

This is where the Whoopers are at other times.

What we did not find at either spot was lots of birds. The whooping cranes and the large flocks of migrating birds cleared out weeks ago. If we were more ardent birders, we would have tromped through the brush and woods, slathered in DEET, and seen a lot more, But, alas, we are third tier at best and prefer big birds and easy viewing. To that end, we have signed up for a boat tour of a dozen island-based rookeries! That said, we were pleased to encounter little blue herons, black skimmers, both white and glossy ibis, and many snowy egrets.

At Goose Island we did see a live oak that is estimated to be over 1000 years old. Imagine, it had been growing slowly there for 500 years when Columbus arrived. In contrast to, say, the Angel Oak near Charleston, it is modest in size, even though considerably older. The iconic tree of this region is a small, twisting coastal live oak. There are groves of them, quite lovely. Perhaps these trees are a different variety than the large ones in the other Southern states we have visited this spring. 

1000 year old coastal live oak.

This Ain’t Mumbly Peg—Not for us nor for the people of Cameron, Louisiana

CAMERON, LOUISIANA – We have for several days now been exploring what has been called the Louisiana Backcountry.

After driving over a huge cypress swamp near Houma, Amelia and Morgan City, we came to lovely Abbeville again and turned south to head across the coastal prairie and marshland to the Gulf. We didn’t know exactly what to expect, but we did not expect to get lost. A bayou bridge was shut down, and to find another way, well, we must have missed some turns. We were frustrated and, at first, decided to cut out part of the trip and stick to the big roads.

At this point, we started mumbling about mumbly peg. Mumbly peg was a childhood game we both knew (and Gus played)—a tribute to utter boredom and wasting time and self-effacing (pardon!) humble pie. We both agreed “we are not here to play mumbly peg,” and so we tried again to find the adventurous road south, and this time we succeeded!

(Might you be interested in playing mumbly peg? It’s a two-person pastime. Player 1 finds a two-inch twig and has three hits with the handle of a pocketknife, held by the blade, to drive it into the dirt. If successful, the twig virtually disappears. Player 1 then has to attempt several tricks with the knife, all designed to flip the knife in odd ways but, after flying through the air, have the knife blade stick clearly into the ground. If player 1 succeeds, player 2 has to extract the twig with nothing but his mouth and teeth. Eating dirt. Mumbly indeed! What’s in this for player 2? If he succeeds, he becomes player 1! We are not sure mumbly peg made it into the 21^st century.)

The road south goes first through the coastal prairie and then enters a spectacular (and spectacularly large) wetland region of coastal marshes. The different grasses provide different shades of green broken by bays and other water bodies large and small. (It’s hard to photograph, we found.) Then the road rises a bit and turns westward to follow the coast along the Grand Chenier ridge, an area high enough to support an abundance of live oak sheltering charming horse and cattle farms.

Dense and endless wetlands.

The region is defined by Lake Calcasieu, with Lake Charles at its northern shore. We took the lovely road up the eastern side of the lake, up toward Lake Charles and its neighboring area Sulphur. Our advice is that you do not want to go to Lake Charles or the neighboring Sulphur unless you are looking for cheap digs with easy access to the Louisiana Backcountry and the Sabine National Wildlife Refuge. The area at the head of the lake is an industrial disaster land.

Now, three BTW points. A friend said to us, ”Be careful, Louisianans are rough, wild drivers.” Our friend nailed that one. Big pickups hurdle heedlessly down the road.

It is also impressive how much of Louisiana is waterborne—tons of fishing vessels, tugs and barges, tankers, etc. The Intracoastal Waterway here is commercial, not recreational. These folks are industrious.

Finally, it is startling to have near-pristine wildness repeatedly interrupted, assaulted by reoccurring, definitely ugly oil and gas operations. The fossil companies large and small seem to have the mineral rights everywhere, and are not shy about exercising them. The raw natural gas under this whole region must require some serious processing before it can be piped out, or so it seems to the ignorant observer.

Huge things beside the road. What are they???

The next day (Monday) we continued our trek along the Creole Nature Trail, heading south out of Sulphur, down the west side of the lake. We stopped in Hackberry, the crab capital of Louisiana, for Gus to pick up a breakfast of boudin and grits. (What happened to granola and fruit?!) It was the best boudin yet.

We continued south until we arrived at Sabine NWR. It is a strikingly beautiful region of brackish water and a wide variety of wetland vegetation. As now expected, the huge volume of migratory birds that frequent the Sabine as well as the Rockefeller NWR and others in the region are gone. So we didn’t have OMG moments, but we did see a great many of our favorites and one—the least bittern—that was new to us. A killdeer did an extended distraction display dance for us, and we were impressed. Among our favorites were ruddy turnstone, scarlet tanager, Baltimore oriole, lesser yellowlegs, reddish egret and one or two blue wing teal families with eight ducklings unafraid right beside the road.

We had some powerful winds. The good news is that neither of us was in the porta potty on the left when the big wind came.

Below Sabine down on the Gulf coast one comes first to Holly Beach, which may be about the only beach on the LA coast. Most of what was once there has been taken away by recent hurricanes. Also, we have to say, the quality of the beach sand and water here compares poorly with that in our previous states. Still, a beach is a beach!

Lots of lots for sale at Holly.

Cute rebuilding at Holly.

A beach is a beach!

Soon we came to a ferry that takes you across the mouth of the Calcasieu to the town of Cameron. For some reason we have a special interest in this town. J Unfortunately, poor little Cameron (pop. now 400), on the Gulf coast as it is, has been hit hard recently by powerful hurricanes. Cameron Parish was devastated by Hurricane Audrey when we were in high school in the late 50s. Over 300 people died as a result. More recently Hurricane Rita hit in 2005 and then three years later Hurricane Ike brought in a vicious 22-foot storm surge, twice that of Rita’s. Basically these events wiped the town out. In our innocence we had wanted to stay in Cameron, but we were told that Cameron is gone. Not quite true!

We saw scores and scores of cement pads that were once the under-the-house areas where boats and vehicles were parked, barbeques were held, and stuff was stored. It’s a sad scene. Rebuilding is slow—most of the older folks decided not to rebuild—but smart or not smart—Cameron is not giving up. Indeed, the parish probably has some reconstruction money (federal?) that seems to have led to some overbuilt what elephants in Cameron. Still, we were glad to see the nearby Cameron NWR.

Major projects in Cameron.

In Cameron, another stairs to nowhere...only the foundation remains.

A good po'boy in Cameron

One hopeful start is Anchors Up Grill, where we shared a delicious fried catfish po’boy and an order of fried okra (yea, veggies).

We have come to feel this is the extreme part of our road trip.

Boy dog Capers, of all people, seems to have found some unfortunate bacteria. It is not serious but is definitely gaseous and liquidous. We will take him to a vet in Rockport, Texas. Next stop.

The Ends of the Earth

COCODRIE, LOUISIANA – Just to be in it, we wanted to drive south in Louisiana through the swamps then across the endless coastal wetlands dotted with oil and gas operations and finally to the end of the road where the land ends and the wetlands fade into the Gulf.

Shrimp boats where the road ends.

It so happens that our friend Joe has soon-to-be in-laws who have a fishing camp high on pilings in a place called Cocodrie which is at the end of just such a road. All we can say is get a map and check it out! The camp is typical of many here—basically a mobile home about 20 feet off the ground with a very useful screen porch added on and lots of room underneath for boats and other things.

Typical fishing camps.

Joe and Emily were kind and thoughtful to arrange for us to use the camp. We thank them! We made the trip down to Cocodrie in the middle of a powerful rainstorm with low clouds and high winds. The water was right at the road level and waves were smashing on the rock rip rap protecting the road. It made for an exciting, atmospheric trip. Cece is not only a great driver but also an intrepid one.

View of vast wetlands from a road. The road that McConaughey and Harrelson took looking for bad guys in "True Detective."

Cocodrie is fascinating—a place for serious work and even more serious fishing, both commercial and recreational. As you might expect, much of the construction here looks a little weather-beaten, and we saw several roofs being repaired. Indeed, we suspect that a good bit of time is spent down here keeping Cocodrie’s exposed structures in shape.

Down near the end of Rt. 56 some folks are opting to go upscale with their vacation homes. It will be interesting to see how they fare. In addition to the climate prediction of more fierce hurricanes, Louisiana’s coastal wetlands face the triple threat of subsidence due partly to drilling, low rates of sediment and soil replenishment due to re-channelization, and sea level rise. Eighty percent of the loss of coastal wetlands in the continental US has occurred in Louisiana. For a really good, and very graphic, presentation of all this, see https://projects.propublica.org/louisiana/?utm_campaign=sprout&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_content=1409236967)

Upscale in Cocodrie.

The fishing camp is near a very good restaurant, Sportsmen’s Paradise. Last evening (Saturday), we split a giant fried seafood platter—oysters, shrimp, fish, and soft shell crabs. It was so tasty and light, Cece inquired with the cook, who reports that after a very light coating with corn flour, she cooks it quickly in fresh oil.

Sunset from the fishing camp porch.

Beasts of the Southern Wild

NEW IBERIA, LOUISIANA – We attended the International Music Festival in Lafayette last evening (Friday), and, after checking out the vast scene—it’s the 29^th annual and collects a huge crowd from around the world, a great many of them quite unusual—we settled in to watch a premier local act, The Lost Bayou Ramblers, roll out their fusion of Cajun and Pop. Great music, once again. We got good seats on the steps of the US Courthouse, and a local young man sat down there too. Pretty soon we were talking and when we described what we were doing, he looked at us and said, “Oh, I see, a bucket list trip.” We did not reply; just looked at each other and thought OMG. Is that what we’re doing?!

Lost Bayou Ramblers

The Ramblers’ music was part of the sound track for “Beasts of the Southern Wild,” which we believe is one of the greatest movies ever made, bringing together as it does a fight against global warming, a struggle to save a family and a marginalized community, and an attack on the barriers the 1% have built to protect themselves but not others.

In a memorable scene, the Aurochs, fierce ancient animals, have been freed from the melting prehistoric ice and now roaming the earth, have arrived in southern Louisiana at the spot where the story’s lead character, Hushpuppy, and her family and community live and struggle.

As these very large and seemingly vicious creatures approach, Hushpuppy, a six-year old black girl, goes out to meet—actually confront—them. The lead Auroch and Hushpuppy stand there looking each other in the eye. And what we see in the Auroch’s eye, as it looks at this little girl so full of innocence and commitment and fight, is not menace but respect and awe and, indeed, reverence. And in a show of their knowledge that she is the center of great struggles and inner strength, they kneel. The wild beasts unleashed by climate change kneel before her in reverence. If this were a work of nonfiction and the site of the confrontation could be found, local people would declare the site sacred and erect something there.

On our trip to Lafayette yesterday we also went by St. Martinville, a lovely little town that is the center of the region’s celebration of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “Evangeline,” the long poem that describes the Acadians’ (now Cajuns’) long journey to this region of Louisiana.

Before leaving on our short trip, we ate lunch at Victor’s Café in New Iberia, which is featured in James Lee Burke’s fiction, a favorite of his memorable character Dave Robicheaux. Interestingly, Gus asked for a second joint and they didn’t know what he was talking about. In addition to delicious fried chicken, Victor’s served a vast array of fresh vegetables—slaw, okra, tomatoes, beets, broccoli, carrots —and it forcefully occurred to us that for weeks we have been vegetable deprived!

Of Birds and Dogs

NEW IBERIA ON THE BAYOU TECHE, LOUISIANA – Now, over half way, we should begin today with some general reflections.

Knock on wood!

It has been unseasonably hot and humid for most of our trip (90° yesterday) but we have had very few bugs. Sure, the occasional mosquito, but what’s a few of them. Even the dogs seem unaffected. A blessing, so far!

We are holding up well. We have learned a lot, seen a lot, and had not a dull moment or a bad argument. The opposite of boredom or even routine has been the case, so we are exhausted every night. The morning coffee in our cabin here on the Teche is percolating away now. Thank goodness.

Cabin on the Teche

But most important, now let us praise famous dogs. During our human self-indulgencies, they have stayed happy, healthy, loyal, and amusing, whether riding in the car, endlessly hopping in and out of its “wayback,” eating at odd hours, left with dog boarding operations, taken to many strange environments, which, if stressful, are nevertheless full of exciting new smells. Really, nothing is settled for them except Cece and Gus and playing ball every morning. Yet when we find a couch (about weekly) and Gus stretches out like he does in Strafford and at the beach house, the dogs head for their same, established positions—Weezie against the couch on the floor and Capers up on it and wrapped around Gus in various ways. They are a joy, and a new yellow lab puppy awaits us in Vermont, eight weeks old in mid-June.

Enough reflecting. Yesterday, Thursday, we drove from New Iberia over to Abbeville, a lovely small town, sleepy, artsy, proud—like several of the places we’ve stayed. We had a great lunch at Black’s Oyster House. Cece had a Caesar salad with fried oysters, and for the first time in her life in one of her favorite ways to eat oysters, she had more oysters than she could handle! You did not have to go looking for them; they were piled high over the salad (you had to look for the salad instead).

Visit to Abbeville

On the way to Abbeville we stopped off at Jefferson Island. Like Avery Island, it is actually a salt dome. It became the beautiful garden estate of a 19^th century American actor, Joseph Jefferson, famous for playing Rip Van Winkle, and the gardens and home are lovely. The property sits on the shores of Lake Peigneur, which was a nice place to be until 1980 when an oil or gas drilling operation working near the lake punctured the salt dome under the lake and the lake’s water disappeared down the hole, forming a giant whirlpool—like pulling the plug on a huge bathtub—that sucked in barges, fishing and pleasure boats, trees and even a house. Now 35 years later the lake and grounds around it look quite normal.

Rip Van Winkle Gardens

When the lake came back, it did so with a vengeance, flooding the original shoreline.

In the Gardens

However, our big event of the day was the staggeringly beautiful Rip’s Rookery on the road to the gardens, formed around several treed islands in a small lake. We saw many of the expected birds—cormorants, anhinga, snowy egrets, American egrets, tri-color herons, but the rookery’s main inhabitants were the striking roseate spoonbills with their strange bills, bright red and orange markings and overall pink rose color. There were hundreds of them just beginning to nest. The other main inhabitants were, of all things, cattle egrets. We have never thought much of the lowly cattle egret but can now attest that in their breeding plumage they are quite lovely both in appearance and behavior!

We were so smitten by Rip’s Rookery that we returned for a second extended visit on the way back from Abbeville.

At Rip's Rookery

Spoonbills and Egrets Galore