Category Archives: RV Travel

Stopping In Buckeye Land

After a quiet night at Allegheny State Park, I spent much of Friday driving to Ohio. Route 17 in New York was lovely and the route down along Lake Erie toward Cleveland was easy. We stopped at several rest areas in Ohio where the breeze off the lake made things comfortable.

Aside from a traffic mess around Columbus, the balance of the trip to Rich and Lydda’s outside Dayton went well.

They live in a large development with hundreds of homes. The builders incorporated quite a lot of green space, berms, and ponds along with a nice network of paved walking/biking trails. I was able to get in rig into their driveway and since I was sleeping in their basement, did not have to worry about the slope.

It has been a nice visit. Lydda is a great cook and we have just had a nice laid-back family visit punctuated by many dog walks. Penny gets along fine with their dog, Squirrel, and there are many rabbits to get her attention on walks.

I went birding with my grandson, Bronson, for a while Sunday. It was his first time and the highlight was probably the Great Blue Heron who arose from one of the little ponds, showing us his full wingspan. Here are some shots of us heading out.

I’m heading up to Grayling, Michigan next to a small Forest Service campground were you just show up. We will see how that goes with thunderstorms in the forecast.

Travels With Penny

A Steinbeck I’m not, as you know if you read this blog. But, by the time you do read this, Penny and I will be well on our way toward the southern tier of New York. It’s a route I know well from my days working in rural New York: the Rutland, Route 4, Northway down to Albany, then I-88 to Binghamton, then Route 17 toward Jamestown. No tolls but lots of river towns and thumpy concrete highway. I think they call it I-85 out west but that’s like putting lipstick on a pig.

Yesterday I went up to Worcester to get some diesel fuel and my last maple bun at the Post Office Cafe for some time. Penny settled into her stretched out spot between the two front seats, where she will sleep for hours.

I don’t have tons of storage space but I am hauling Pete’s Green mesclun, local chicken and hamburger, Cabot Cheese, Morse Farm maple syrup, Booth Brothers milk, and some homemade granola to go with the Stonyfields yogurt. I should have a good first week culinary-wise.

So the general plan is to see our son Rich and his wife Lydda, along with Bronson in Ohio for the weekend. We are getting psyched for that. Afterward, it’s a little open. I am going to head north through Michigan, hook a left before Canada, and wander along the northern route through Minnesota, North Dakota, and Montana. The objective is to arrive in San Diego County in late June to see the West Coast gang.

Vermont is a tough place to leave in summer. Everything is just popping and one side of me wants to stay and paddle, hike, and bird. But I really wanted a change of venue for a bit, to see grandkids that I see way too infrequently, to explore a part of the country that I have never seen, and to do a little birding in places new to me. It’s going to be fun and I’ll share a bit of what I see and do, including comments my Vermont plates draw. Peace my friends.

“f/8 and be there”

Sometimes you just have to be present with a camera and neat things can happen. That was my experience with getting a Painted Bunting for life bird #440. (I realize that the total is not that impressive but I’ve only been at this for about seven years.)

The last two winters we were in Texas, there was a very reliable Painted Bunting at the Falfurrias Rest Stop on Highway 281 north of Edinburg, Texas. Day after day I’d see it reported on eBird but the one day that Mary and I went up to look for it, we scoured the place with no luck. Of course, someone saw it that day afterward.

This winter, a Painted Bunting was frequenting a feeder in mid-state Vermont and most of my birder friends got to see it. My time was tied up completely with Mary’s treatment and care and I never even thought about leaving to look for it.

When I got to the Skidway Island State Park in Georgia last week, I asked the ranger as I was checking in about whether they had any birders on their staff. He introduced a young woman who gave me a quick briefing and said, “You can probably see the Painted Bunting at the feeder in the morning. They are a little skittish but the love the millet seeds.”

I had picked the park since it was highly recommended by by brother and sister-in-law and was the right distance for the daily drive I was planning. I birded that evening and picked up a few new year birds for me, including a noisy but handsome Great Crested Flycatcher.

Up before dawn, I exercised the dog, grabbed a coffee, and went over to the nature center and picked one of the empty chairs. No one was around but Tufted Titmice, Carolina Chickadees, and a couple of cowbirds came and went. Only about fifteen minutes had gone by when suddenly from the underbrush, a Painted Bunting fly to the feeder. My camera was in my lap and I was so close that I didn’t want to spook him – but just then a noisy compressor from the building’s air conditioning system kicked in and off he flew. Well, I certainly saw him.

I adjusted the camera so that I could shoot when he came back but time went by, and I knew I had to pack up and do a rather long drive. Then, he was at the cage feeder and I took some photos, more for documentation than anything.

The cage screwed up the autofocus but there are plenty of good shots on the web.

The cage screwed up the autofocus but there are plenty of good shots on the web.

But not these two.

But not these two.

When he left, I did as well, very happy to get this pretty bird – and that success made the trip go well, to the point that I cancelled a reservation and drove nearly 12 hours to Pennsylvania, going from tropical temperatures and brightly colored birds to drizzle and a few damp Robins. It was a long but good day.

Leaving Goose Island

I saw my first fireflies of the year early Monday morning before dawn. Like the predawn birdsong and seventy-degree temperatures, it will all will soon be put aside for the realities of April in New England. We have launched on our 2200 mile journey home.

One of the challenges each year is Houston; this year I decided to do a wide circumnavigation to the west and north. But first, we needed a bit of Airstream drama. First, after I hooked up I got an alert that there was a wiring issue with the trailer. I ignored that since everything seemed to be working but then noticed some loose trim hanging off the trailer’s side. That loosened more as we got up to speed and soon I stopped and removed it until later.

We were counting Scissor-tailed Flycatchers perched or feeding along our route – the last time we’ll see those beauties for a while. After a few hours, we stopped at our favorite gas stop, [Buc-ees in Wharton](http://www.vtbirder.com/beef-jerky-one-of-the-five-basic-food-groups/), Texas.

Soon, we were truckin’ through coton fields, then cattle country, whipping along at 70 much of the way. Each small town has a 75-55-45-30 speed zone that comes at you quickly, with nearly hidden school zone lights that drop it to 25. With the polished trailer and Vermont plates, we sort of stand out so I keep it legal.

The high humidity and temps call for air-conditioning but we can’t do that when hauling the trailer so it’s windows down and cruising. Much of Texas, even secondary highways, have 75 mph limits. In one stretch, with trees lining both sides and dips and climbs, I said to Mary, ‘This is like the Elmore road with a 75 speed limit.” I tend to keep it more at 68 or so, still a little dicey to a Vermonter.

It was a long first day but we got to our campground, Martin Dies State Park, in plenty of time for walks and relaxation. There were hardly any campers (after having a thousand there for Easter) and the birds were busy. Unlike the Gulf Coast where they were silent, here many were calling. I heard and then saw a gorgeous male Scarlet Tanager. Other highlights were a Little Blue Heron, my first American Crow in three months, also my first Blue Jay. The downside was that the bugs were really tough, seeming to laugh at Off and Cutter’s. Here’s a shot of the Cypress adorned slough beside our site.

We leave Texas Tuesday after a long visit during which time I saw 235 different species and left ranked 55th in the state. It was all-in-all a good stay. Bays con food, amigos

Some Thoughts About Driving – While Driving

I drove about five hours on I-10 from Beaumont, Texas across most of Louisiana, including an 18-mile (29 km) stretch of elevated highway between Lafayette and Baton Rouge known as the Atchafalaya Swamp Freeway, as it goes over the Atchafalaya River, across the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge, and the adjacent swamps. It crosses the Mississippi River at the Horace Wilkinson Bridge. I learned once again, as each passing tractor trailer pulled the Airstream toward it, how much I dislike interstate driving.

The speed limit in Texas is 75 and in Louisiana it is 70 and that seems like a suggestion. I drive about 68 or so, even though that kills gas mileage, because to run much slower is an invitation for problems. Truckers, like all drivers, come in many flavors and some are just crappy at driving. Turn signals are for the weak, speed consistency is boring, and boring down behind slower vehicles, like that shiny Airstream, puts some spice in a long haul.

So I got thinking about this – and having driven across the country and halfway back, I decided to stop whining about truck traffic and point out some things we like, or dislike.

Mary and I find it interesting that the billboards for adult stores start as you hit the Bible Belt and continue throughout the South and Southwest. Billboards are obnoxious, as are wind farms, but they seem more acceptable in someone else’s backyard. We have apps for gas stations but billboards help us make our fuel stops.

Most gas stations, even truck stops, are tough when you pull a trailer. The diesel folks have all sorts of room but we have to fold in with the cars, often making either the entrance or exit adrenaline-producing. Love’s, Truck Stops of America, Flying J, Pilot are all focused on truckers and RV’s are just tolerated. That’s one reason our favorite stops are Buc-ees: there’s room, they don’t cater to 18-wheelers, and they are immaculate. They are a Texas outfit and use clever Burma-Shave type billboards to lure you in.

The speed limits in the West are insane – we’ve seen 80 mph on some parts of I-8. Even a narrow two-lane road with no shoulders often has a 70 mph limit – to me 50 is pushing it. Some of the interstate has direct access from dirt roads and driveways, and it is not unusual to see walkers or cyclists legally using it.

The worst drivers I encountered was on Highway 83 in the "Valley" of Texas where merging and passing on the right is an art form. A close second is Highway 5 out of San Diego where guys in white pickup trucks seem to have a driving death wish.

One of the fun aspects of travel for me is to see how communities handle their water tanks. In New England, we often hide them or partially bury them but elsewhere, there are lovely murals, descriptions of the local football team, or just the community’s name.


My favorite, which I always look for as we approach Marion, VA on I-81 is this pair.

One of the big changes we’ve seen this trip is the impact of fracking. We drive by miles of oil firms, each with their collection of RV’s set up with wifi and cable TV for workers, and get chased by oil trucks just barrelling (pardon the pun) along on once-quiet secondary roads. The piping, the smell, the massive containment ponds, the flares of gas all are ugly. And talk about euphemisms in signage – of course you never see the word fracking – it’s more like Southwest Energy Services.

Yet, I can’t help but consider our energy footprint as we fill the big gas tank day after day. At least we are offsetting some by longer stays in places and by using much less fuel oil at home. Lots to ponder on the last 1700 miles of the journey.

Wren’Streamer

My brother Barry and his wife, Mica DeAngelis, have restored two vintage Airstreams and have travelled to the South and Southwest for Habitat For Humanity builds and general travel.  They have always been watchers of birds but recently have sort of caught the birding bug.  Barry got a new camera a few months ago and has been testing it out here and there — and captured this wonderful shot of a House Wren in their backyard.

Barry and Mica originally thought that this birdhouse was a gag gift but Momma wren has called it home for the last two years. photo by Barry K. Mansfield, Burlington, VT

Barry and Mica originally thought that this birdhouse was a gag gift but Momma wren has called it home for the last two years. photo by Barry K. Mansfield, Burlington, VT

What Will Be Our Birding Base?

We’ve had a stretch of cold, windy weather here in Vermont and along with questioning our sanity in staying here this winter, I have been battling a painful nerve situation in my neck, arm, and hand.  So I’ve had plenty of time to work on writing and reading projects.  

As you have noted in my blog posts, we do a lot of our birding in warmer places of the U.S.  We haul our ‘99 Airstream, set up in state parks, and see some wonderful birds and meet some fine people.  The Airstream is easy to pull and works pretty well for us but the truck-trailer rig can be tricky to drive so I do all the driving.  Mary would like to help with that chore.  

Last winter, I was intrigued with some of the Class B and larger RV rigs that we saw in various state parks, particularly because of their ease of handling and setup.  I never did anything about them but last week, facing the completion of repairs on the Airstream and dithering about upgrading and or upsizing, I came across a post from a guy about his success on buying RV’s unseen (except for photos, videos, etc).  He was from Vermont and wrote that he had a Chinook — a rig I’d never heard of.  In a brief exchange of emails, he raved about their reliability and quality, and scarceness. 

An informal exchange of emails introduced me to the Chinook RVs.

An informal exchange of emails introduced me to the Chinook RVs.

Diving in headfirst, I joined the Chinook Yahoo group, visited some Craigslist and RVtrader sites, and wrote to the Chinook RV Club.  Next thing I know I was learning the different models and their layouts and getting advice on possible rigs for sale.  Hey, I have a snow-covered Airstream that has a few weeks worth of work before I can even move it.  And we certainly don’t have a bank account that can handle two rigs at time  — especially a newer pricier RV. 

But, after a few more days research, I’m getting hooked on getting a Chinook.  It may never come to pass but I’m planning a trip to Georgia in April for a rally to look one or two over.   Of course, Georgia birding will be in full operation and I’m outlining some sites we can visit while we are there.  

Seeing the many rigs that are sold because of health reasons of one or both of the owners makes one realize that fixing up old rigs is perhaps not to efficient a use of time.  Going in style to prime birding and tourist spots (note the priority) is why we are thinking of upgrading.  Stay tuned or better yet, sign up by RSS feed or via email  to follow us in this “What’s Our Birding Support Base?” decision.