Adventures in South Texas

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: each time I go west, a piece of me doesn’t come back. Both the far west and the near west do this to me, and Texas is no exception. The history of Texas is a rich one, in fact, I feel as though maybe I was a Texan in a previous life. When you add the rowdiness of south Texas and its unique, diverse nature on top of the history, it becomes my kind of place!

The Lower Rio Grande Valley (LRGV) is one of the top birding destinations in North America, partly thanks to habitat diversity, and is home to numerous Mexican/Central American species that aren’t found anywhere else on the continent. Being so far south also sets the area up for temporarily hosting many rarities. Recently, I took my first trip to the area. It was a whirlwind and ranged from coastal Texas at Aransas and Laguna Atascosa all the way up to Falcon Lake in the west. Just looking at a map, it would appear as though all of this is crammed into a small area, but don’t be fooled by the illusion! South Texas looks so small because the rest of Texas is so huge. For example, Laguna Atascosa on the coast to Falcon Lake in the west is about 135 miles.  

Having been to southern Arizona where activity on the border is relatively slow, I assumed south Texas would be the same. Not so. Their border is VERY active and it provided adventures along the way; we’ll just call them interesting adventures. Border patrol is constantly hot on somebody’s trail, helicopters hovering, and always on the move. Not to mention some of the things that occur at THE river…yes, the Rio Grande (or Río Bravo as it is known in Old Mexico), which many of the best parks butt right up to. Keep reading and I will relay how we conquered the LRGV; a whirlwind, as I said. It is by no means the only way to make the trip, but I think it must be the best as far as making the most of the area.

As many of you know, life currently finds me residing in northwest Arkansas, so this was naturally the starting point of the trip. Leaving on a cold, dark, March morning, we spent the first day driving the 650 miles to Victoria, near the coast. Somewhere east of Austin we began seeing Crested Caracara, one of the trip’s targets. This long-legged member of the falcon family is adapted to open areas, where it can often be seen standing/hunting on the ground. Their bald face also speaks of occasional dabbling in carrion. With quick wing beats, a long neck-extension, and big white patches on the wings, it is easily identified in flight. Along this same route, masses of Texas bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, and plains wild indigo welcomed us to the coastal prairie region of the Lonestar State. (Foodie Note: The Pump House Riverside Restaurant, on the Guadalupe River in Victoria, provided excellent sustenance in the form of porkbelly tacos after the long drive. They were quite worthy of my taste buds and must have gone down real easy with the margarita, based on how many the lady next to us had.)

Crested Caracara, Aransas County, TX

The next morning, we were up dark and early and continued to Goose Island State Park, on the coast. It and the adjacent Aransas NWR are the spot for endangered Whooping Cranes in winter; they are slightly easier to find at Goose Island. Not really knowing what to expect, we started at the Big Tree area, home of a 1000-year-old live oak. In the adjacent wetland we stopped to check out a falcon (Merlin), in hopes it was an Aplomado. Looking up from my scope, seven Whooping Cranes were lazily flapping low over us. I could hardly get the word “crane” out, as I was awestruck by their grace: all white, some black, complete with striking red face masks. Later, we found two and got closer looks, although not much could beat the seven flying right overhead. As morning progressed, other wading birds woke up and flew en masse from roosting sites. Before leaving the park, we tried our hand at differentiating the Boat-tailed from Great-tailed Grackles…we didn’t waste too much time on that.

Coastal Live Oaks, Goose Island State Park, Aransas County, TX

After a storm on the first night, the weather was MUCH cooler than expected, especially since I packed only shorts; the wind didn’t help much either. Powering through, we headed to a park in Refugio after finishing up at Goose Island. This park had recently been hosting two rarities from further west: Greater Pewee and Flame-colored Tanager. We dipped on the tanager after it had been reported for almost a month (it was seen again the next day), but the pewee was easy and a Tropical Parula was a nice surprise in a mixed flock of warblers. Tropical Parulas can be notoriously difficult to find in the valley, despite being fairly widespread. In south Texas, they are only known to breed reliably on the famed Norias Division of the King Ranch, though I’m sure they must breed elsewhere too. This is the same division where the last reliable and accessible, breeding Ferruginous Pygmy-Owls can be found in the valley. Despite my obsession with owls, I don’t really believe in paying a premium to go on a remote tour where they may or may not be seen…some people enjoy King Ranch birding and it does have a rich history, so do with that information what you will. For some reason the pesky owls LOVE the private ranches, just out of a birder’s reach.

The park in Refugio also gave us the first taste of the Lower Rio Grand Valley with Black-crested Titmouse, the second-to-last titmouse I lacked for North America! By lunchtime, we had conquered in the coastal prairie region of south Texas and headed even further south.

Nearly identical to our Tufted Titmouse save for the namesake black crest.

We had a day-by-day schedule laid out for the whole trip and were already well ahead. In keeping with the trend, we decided to stop at the Frontera Audubon Society Center, in Weslaco, on the way into the valley. This small park is a productive island among the urban sprawl and had hosted a Blue Bunting for several weeks. The bunting is a denizen of dense woods in northern Central America and Mexico, so quite a novelty within the North American ABA area. Having just set foot on the trail system, I shouted out that I’d seen a flash of dark blue, almost black. It was our bird! It walked into the trail for a split second and continued to skulk in nearby brush until we’d had our fill. As with many parks in the LRGV, Frontera operates several feeding stations to attract an array of species right before a birder’s very eyes. By the end of this first afternoon, we had enjoyed most of the common, but highly sought, species of the valley! To the feeders came White-tipped Doves, a species I’ve only seen in the tropics, Black-crested Titmouse, Buff-bellied Hummingbirds, and more. With raucous chorus, Plain Chachalacas darted through the brush, occasionally coming in to feed. Behind us, two males stood tall in defiance and began to fight in the middle of the trail, feathers flying, as females looked on in wonder. Chachalacas can be found pretty much everywhere in the valley, but Frontera seemed to have the highest concentration; especially given the poop and feathers everywhere. They’re CRAZY, not just crazy looking, but crazy period. Having some experience with them from further south, they still always surprise me. 

Plain Chachalaca, Frontera Audubon Center, Weslaco, TX

Before leaving, we also had several Long-billed Thrashers and Olive Sparrows. These two are chronic skulkers, especially the thrashers! As we left, our only Zone-tailed Hawk of the trip flew over, giving us a glimpse through the park’s thick canopy of trees. Even more ahead of schedule, so ended our first day in the valley. 

Olive Sparrow, a lover of dense brush.

The next morning, we were again up dark and early. In our defense, sunrise wasn’t until 7:30am down there, but getting up WAY too early seems to be a trend on birding trips (as in 2+ hours before sunrise). I mean, hey, you’ve got to have plenty of time to caffeinate and feed before starting another marathon day! It was also a good time to make sure our ducks (or chachalacas) were in a row.

Our official first day in the valley began at Bentsen Rio Grande Valley State Park, one of the top destinations in the area. This park is adjacent to the Rio Grande and covers a pretty large swath of good, scrub-woodland habitat. Our goal was to find an Audubon’s Oriole that had sporadically been coming to mysterious feeder 10. Despite direction from multiple park rangers, fellow birders and maps, we never found it. However, in our aimless wandering, the early morning walk still brought us 40 species. At one of the other feeding stations, I finally laid eyes on my first Green Jay. This was a moment I’ve dreamed about since I was younger and first saw a painting of the regal species. It’s hard to imagine calling a noisy jay regal, but these truly are. It’s my new jay of choice. Their magnificent green bodies glimmer, fading into blue on the head, all the while contrasting sharply with the black face mask and blue eyebrows. Mouth agape, I was distracted by a Clay-colored Thrush and the jay snuck off into the trees. Other goodies from the morning at Bentsen were plenty of Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, my last Melanerpes sp. for North America, both Green and Ringed Kingfishers on a canal near the visitor’s center, a pair of Black Phoebes on this same canal, and Great Kiskadees, with Couch’s Kingbirds, calling from every other treetop.

Green Jay, Hidalgo County, TX

As clouds rolled in and a cold wind began to blow, we decided to take a different approach and headed northwest of Mission to search for Mountain Plovers near McCook. A large flock had been wintering in the area, but despite our best efforts, we couldn’t locate them in an overwhelming expanse of potential habitat. However, we were graced with many caracaras and several White-tailed Hawks, including one that was very willing to be photographed. I’d say we did pretty well, given this was the only failed chase of the whole trip!

Though we stayed in Mission, the westernmost of the LRGV cities, we did a lot of jumping around most days. So after lunch at McCook, we headed east to Estero Llano Grande State Park, near Weslaco. This was just the first of several trips to Estero, probably my favorite park in the valley. The habitat here is more open than Bentsen, with several wetlands; some of the deeper of which are home to alligators. One of the best wetlands is right next to the visitor’s center and, that day, hosted the likes of a Tricolored Heron, White-faced Ibis, Long-billed Dowitcher, Cinnamon Teal, and other regular, southern wetlanders like Common Gallinule and Sora.   

Take a look at those feet! Common Gallinule foraging with caution at Estero.

One of our goals for Estero was Common Pauraque. This species is a nightjar that actively hunts insects after the sun goes down, and spends the day cryptically roosting on the ground. Estero was home to a known day roost. As the sun began parting the clouds, we set off hiking and eventually came to the Alligator Lake Trail. Following the directions a friend had given me a month earlier, we arrived at the pauraque spot. It was a small island of scrub between two pieces of trail, just big enough for several roosting birds. The search began…and continued… For 45 minutes, we circled this patch of trees, peering through the tangle in hopes of catching a glimpse. At one point I even got on all fours so as to think more like a pauraque! We did all but go crashing through their humble day home. Eventually, we lost hope and had concluded they were no longer using this site. Suddenly, the tawny chevrons on the bird’s wings stood out against the leaf litter. The rest of the pauraque magically materialized soon after. We stayed at the site for a while studying and photographing the miraculous bird with INCREDIBLE camouflage; brown tones working together with white, cream, and tan to best mimic the scrubland ground. Eyes mostly closed, she lazily watched our every move. Later we found out she was sitting on several downy chicks. Another success! 

A very well camouflaged pauraque, fluffed out guarding young.

From there, the sun was full-fledged shining in its south Texas glory and butterflies began to move. The storm a few days earlier had mostly wiped out the butterflies that were in the area, but enough regenerated to keep us happy in the afternoons. Estero is one of the best places for butterflies in the LRGV and has a great garden, complete with butterfly juju feeders (this is a mixture of sugar, bananas, and beer and is probably not half bad). Hanging out at one of them was my first Mexican Bluewing (Myscelia ethusa). This stunner is a poster child for LRGV butterflies and, in North America, is only found in the valley, but is fairly common. A secretive bug, they enjoy keeping their wings closed to remain camouflaged. A warm, sunny spot, though, prompts them to open up and flash an alluring, iridescent blue-purple.

We spent the remainder of the day enjoying Estero’s butterflies. Other specialties from this day (and several following days) included Plain Longtail (Urbanus simplicus), Red-bordered Metalmark (Caria ino), Laviana White-Skipper (Helioptes laviana), Two-barred Flasher (Astraptes fulgerator), Mexican Silverspot (Dione moneta), Julia Heliconian (Dryas iulia), among others.

An iridescent male Mexican Bluewing, one of many seen during the excursion.

For our second full day in the valley, intermittent clouds and cool wind had finally moved on. We started hot with a chase to Anzalduas Park, on the river south of Mission, for a Black-throated Gray Warbler that had been seen in the company of other migrants for several days. Picking through similar looking Black-and-white Warblers, we finally found the one that didn’t climb up and down limbs like their more zebra-colored cousins. A gray back, black and white face, and yellow spot above the lores confirmed it. The chunky warbler fed high up in the treetops among dramatic masses of Spanish moss. We traversed the park following the flock, losing it, and following it some more, before becoming distracted by caracaras feeding on a nearby raccoon carcass. For several hours we continued enjoying the riverside area. The morning light kissing the surface of the Rio Grande was magical!

Early morning on the Rio Grande, looking across to Reynosa, Mexico.

The Bentsen owl peering out of its tree-hole.

Late morning found us at the National Butterfly Center, a preserve dedicated to the butterflies (and birds) of the LRGV. They have trails, feeding stations, and extensive gardens. Not to mention a resident screech-owl who sits at the opening of a nest box throughout the day, quietly tracing every move of passersby. This was one of two seen during the trip, the other individual was at Bentsen, and was another quiet, daytime observer of those passing on a nearby trail. The Eastern Screech-Owls in the valley are of the McCall’s subspecies (Megascops asio mccalli), only found in northern Mexico and south Texas. This subspecies is noticeably smaller than our M. a. asio subspecies further north and, unlike asio, comes in one color morph: gray with subtle rufous hints.

Two of the most sought after birds in the valley are the Audubon’s and Altamira Orioles. Blinding in bright light, these birds look like they came straight from the face of the sun. Altamiras are not difficult to locate during winter in the valley proper, however, with the start of the breeding season, they recede into the woodlands and seldom surface. Fortunately, several of these orange beauties showed themselves during our visit. A pair blitzed through the Butterfly Center gardens one morning, feeding from flowers and oranges before disappearing again. Audubon’s are never common in the valley proper, although there are a few that breed there. This species is more commonly seen further west and it wouldn’t be until later in the trip one found us.

Altamira Oriole. Hard to believe something this beautiful actually exists until it sneaks right up on you.

Sometimes on a birding trip, it’s just good to stop and take everything in…maybe even sit a spell or lie down on a picnic table. Birds are magnificent, yet overwhelming. I’m always asked how a trip like this can be relaxing and I don’t know the answer, but somehow it is. I think it could be attributed to the fact that on a normal day in normal life, I have hundreds of things on my mind at once. On a birding trip I get to become supremely focused on one thing, which is restful to me.

The next morning saw us on the move again, this time 75 miles back east to Laguna Atascosa NWR. Dear reader, we made it before sunrise; what a surprise. Well caffeinated, we were jiving and ready for one of the day’s targets: Aplomado Falcon. After many Osprey, and two Harris’s Hawks, we found it…still before sunrise! Putting the scope on this amazing bird of prey filled the frame with a truly striking creature; dangerously beautiful. Nearby it had a mate on a nest. Focusing in on the nest, I discovered it was partly made from a massive chunk of prickly pear cactus! Now that’s one bad bird. Aplomado Falcons are a great reintroduction success story. The species is widespread in Central and South America, but was nearly extirpated from the U.S. during the early 20^th century. It is recovering well and can currently be found in parts of south and west Texas, and southern New Mexico.

We spent the early morning driving some of the roads in the area, picking up others like Long-billed Curlew, White-faced Ibis, Swallow-tailed Kite, and more Harris’s Hawks. The Harris’s are truly one of North Americas handsomest raptors…their charcoal body with ferruginous wing patches makes them easy on the eyes. By 8:45, we were at the Laguna Atascosa visitor’s center searching for a Crimson-collared Grosbeak that had been feeding on fruiting trees for several weeks. The bird, a female, called multiple times and finally showed herself, all golden-green with black head, after more than an hour. Having struck it rich at the laguna, we headed for Sabal Palm Sanctuary in Brownsville. This sanctuary is on the other side of the fence and is one of the last prime tracts of sabal palm habitat remaining. Here we found more of the LRGV specialties, Least Grebes, and a Great Horned Owl nesting in a palm. This is a beautiful park, although being a dead weekday, it was an eerie time to be alone on the other side of the fence.

Accustomed to gawking humans, this GHOW gave us a quick look and went on pondering life in her sabal palm. 

Later, we went to Resaca de la Palma State Park a few miles away. We really didn’t have much in mind here other than butterflies. This park is one of the most reliable spots in the valley for rare Blue Metalmarks (Lasaia sula). Unsure whether or not they would be active, we were pleasantly surprised when not just one, but up to ten were found! We spent the better part of an hour chasing these tiny teal butterflies around the gardens, most of which could have easily landed on a quarter with room to spare. In the process, more Mexican Bluewings, Great Southern Whites (Ascia monuste), and a White-striped Longtail (Chioides catillus) were seen. 

One of the prettiest bugs I've been fortunate to lay eyes on.

Having done so well up to this point, we took a “free day” to go visit various different parks again. This was when we relocated the Mexican Silverspot at Estero and photographed the Bentsen screech-owl, thanks to a tip from another friend who happened to be in the valley. At Estero, we also revisited the pauraque mom and enjoyed a hot hour in the sun observing a Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet building a nest. In the evening, we watched as Green Parakeets came to roost in McAllen. (Foodie Note: There are several good, authentic Mexican restaurants in Mission/McAllen. The trip favorite was Taco Olé, a definite hole-in-the-wall. Established in the 70s, it’s still going strong today serving up some of the most satisfying Mexican cuisine in the valley.)

Audubon's Oriole striking a pose.

For our final day in the valley, we travelled west, the last remaining ground to cover. We arrived at the small village of Salineño as the sun rose. 

At the river, we were greeted by border patrol agents who shooed us away while they attempted to wait out someone who had just tried to move drugs across the border. It wasn’t long before they came to get us, warning us to bird with caution. Along the banks of the Rio Grande, we got what we had come for in the form of Red-billed Pigeon (2) and White-collared Seedeater (3). The pigeons patrolled up and down the river, while the seedeaters foraged in grasses along its edge. Both species can be notoriously absent from the valley, so we were glad to have them. Salineño was also our last chance for Audubon’s Oriole. A snowbird couple who has feeders and hosts birders to their yard, had closed their seasonal operation a few days earlier, meaning we had to find our oriole the “real” way. After spending several hours searching with no luck, we were about to leave when a lady approached us to ask if we were successful. When I told her no, she shook her head and said she couldn’t let us leave without seeing an Audubon’s Oriole. Inviting us in, we discovered she owned the legendary (but closed) feeding operation that reopened just for us! Within seconds, two of the astonishingly bright, yellow orioles came down to feed barely ten feet away. The species is incredible, but like Altamira, recedes into the woods once breeding begins. Unfortunately, Audubon’s Orioles are a species of concern and likely in decline due to habitat loss in and outside North America. I count myself in the lucky few to have had such a close encounter with the species.  

Bidding the couple adios and safe travels home to Iowa, we moved further west to Falcon State Park. At this place in the upper portion of the LRGV, the scrub forests are left behind for a more typical desert, like those found further west. The trails wind narrowly through thick xerophytic plants like Christmas cholla, agave, yucca, Spanish dagger, and prickly pear. Some of the common birds here included many desert specialties: noisy Cactus Wrens, bite-sized Verdins, hard-to-pronounce Pyrrhyloxia, and Black-throated Sparrows. Caracaras were a constant sight as they sped over on the wind. The desert was alive with spring chorus, flowers bloomed against the sandy soil, and butterflies danced in the sun. When most think of a desert, they picture the Sahara, dry and deadly. Although our deserts can be dry and deadly, they are very much alive. At risk of desiccation ourselves, we headed back to the car for water and food. Over lunch, we had a front row seat to a Black-throated Sparrow concert. (Foodie Note: The citrus in the valley is outstanding this time of year. I typically stay away from grapefruit because I’ve rarely met one that wasn’t too bitter for my fruit desires. Those in the valley were the sweetest and juiciest I’ve ever had. They were great chilled and eaten whole or squeezed into a glass at lunch on a hot day.)

A large and charismatic Cactus Wren.

Pyrrhuloxia, the desert cardinal.

On the way back to Mission, we stopped in the dying town of Roma to enjoy the buildings that could tell stories of the old west. A trip to Roma wouldn’t be complete without stepping out onto Roma Bluffs. Looking west up the valley shows a place that is still wild and untamed. Looking south and east, the view is dominated by a Mexican border city (Ciudad Miguel Alemán). Closing my eyes, I could almost touch the 19^th century, but was brought back by the cheerful mariachi music across the river.  

El Río Bravo y México a Roma.

Heading north out of the valley, our last day found us in San Antonio, at Friedrich Wilderness Park. This is one of several nice parks around the city and is on the outskirts to the northwest. The terrain of the Hill Country comes alive within its bounds. Extensive oak-juniper habitat there provides spring and summer refuge to Golden-cheeked Warblers. The endangered Golden-cheekeds have seen massive declines thanks to logging in both their winter range, southern Mexico and Central America, and breeding range. They prefer mature oak-juniper forests and now only breed in the Texas Hill Country and the Edward's Plateau. There are estimated to be just over 20,000 remaining. Fortunately, restoration efforts have gained steam over the years and Friedrich Wilderness Park has one of the highest breeding concentrations in the area. I’m not sure when the warblers arrive in full-force, but it’s much earlier than most migrants. They also migrate south much earlier than most migrants and are gone by late July or early August. Hoping for just one of these rarities, we had 12 males sighted and singing over the course of a two-mile hike. They glittered from atop stunted juniper and oak, occasionally stopping to take in their dramatic surroundings and forage for insects before belting out another melody. It was an incredible thing to have been able to see so many.

Treetop jewel: Golden-cheeked Warbler.

We ended the trip with a list of 148 species. For me, 22 were life birds and 12 were North American ABA area birds.

To say it simply, the Lower Rio Grande Valley is an amazing area. It’s rich in birds, habitat, and culture. It is well worth the trip for any birder and non-birder alike. A sunrise on the Rio Grande is something to behold, especially by those who romanticize about the west the way it was, and still is today in some places. North along the coast and north to the Hill Country are all worthwhile escapades as well. Texas truly is one of our greatest and most unique states.

“Texas is a woman, she used to say, a big, wild beautiful woman. You get a kid raised up to where he's got some size and there's Texas whispering in his ear smiling, saying: ‘come out with me and have some fun’.”—Martha Hyer, Sons of Katie Elder

¡Viva Tejas!

For a complete set of photos from the trip, visit: http://www.pbase.com/mpruitt/south_texas_2016

All Galleries: www.pbase.com/mpruitt