Catchin' Up

Well, howdy everyone! I'll bet you thought I'd up and disappeared off into the desert, or something like that. No, I've just been too busy being lazy to sit down and tell you about it. There have been some exciting things going on, though, and this was one of them -- an aerial photo shoot of a Beechcraft T-34A Mentor decked out in the color scheme of the USAF Thunderbirds. Pretty cool, huh? Oh, yeah!

Of course, not everything in life is so action-packed as an aerial photo shoot, nor should it be. Sometimes, it can be as quiet and simple as enjoying the effect of a desert full moon cascading upon your trailer home during one of our frequent blackouts in this area, as in this shot here. (Interior illumination courtesy of oil lantern and candles.) I was amazed at how much light was outside, considering it was around 4:30 in the morning when I took this shot. It was so dark, the autofocus in my camera had a hard time finding its target, but I managed a couple of nice shots from it.

While we're on the subject of moons (or just "the moon" I suppose), here's a shot I just couldn't pass up while opening the Visitor Center one morning. There was just something so captivating about the clouds moving around the moon, I just had to have it.

Then one day on the way back from my grocery run in Alpine, I decided I just couldn't stand it anymore and had to trek out the five miles south of Marathon to see what The Post everybody talks about was all about. (Fort Peña Colorado is its real name; an old Buffalo Soldier camp.) I was expecting a fort of some sort, but none was to be had, I'm afraid. What we have now is a huge picnic area, perfect for a family outing or a social event. I just missed a cabrito (goat) cook-off here, due to my chronic forgetfulness that seems to get worse as time goes on. Don't get me started on that subject!

And here we have the El Quack-o Greeting Committee, three white ducks that greeted me and followed me around the place almost the whole time I was here. I'd forgotten how funny ducks can be in their simpleminded hunt for a handout. They were great company.

And while I was down at this end of the park, I thought I'd take a shot looking back toward the parking lot. It's really a nice place to bring the kiddos for a romp in the outdoors, or to just bring yourself when you want to get away from life in the big city -- Marathon (pop. 455).

Then, on the way out, I came across these two horses who seemed posed for a photo, so I backed up and gave them a shot or two. They never ventured far from each other the whole time I clicked away.

As I said, they were pretty close, so here's a somewhat normal shot for the series. Horses are funny critters, too.

And for the last shot of the series, we have our two equine subjects posing as a Pushmi-pullyu from Dr Doolittle. Not a bad job of it, either, I might say.

And now, for something a little more graphic in nature, we have this morning light show I caught while dressing for a little hike up the Persimmon Gap Draw Trail. What we're seeing here are the shadows of my bedroom's miniblinds caused by the reflection of the morning sun bouncing off Pepe's hood criss-crossed by the rays of the sun coming in through the blinds. Quite fascinating, I thought.

But soon it was time to get down to business, which for today was a hike up the Persimmon Gap Draw Trail, which I've never done the whole time I've worked here. I'd gotten a report of excessive amounts of thorny things along the draw that turned back a couple wearing shorts, so I decided it was time to put on my Trail Crew hat again and have a look for myself. Armed with a pair of hand pruners and a folding saw, I hit the dusty draw in search of the offending plantlife. Before heading out, I rebuilt the cairn seen here under the little creosote bush, marking the trailhead. The said offending plantlife would turn out to be none other than our old friend, the catclaw (acacia greggii), the bush you see just beyond the creosote bush.

And here we have a close-up of this nastiest of nasty bushes, whose common name "catclaw" is very well-deserved, I think. Its thorns look exactly like catclaws and are every bit as sharp, too. I once had one rip my favorite shirt to shreds, with three long gashes diagonally across the back. It looked like something out of Jurassic Park when it was all done. Luckily for me, none of the thorns achieved skin. I wouldn't be so lucky on this little outing.

Well, I got so wrapped up in my endeavor (literally!), I never thought to include before-and-after photos of my work, not even of the catclaw bush completely traversing the trail. That would've been perfect. At any rate, we're finally here at the pouroff, which incidentally, is not the end of the trail. Apparently I missed a turn just back down the trail, which was poorly marked. It looks like a return trip is in order. Anyway, this was the end of the trail for me this time around, and a welcome end for this outing. All the shade was very nice, but the flies finally drove me out after a while. They seemed quite interested in all the fresh cuts along my arms and wouldn't go away no matter how much I swatted.

And there was a pretty nice view from here, too, although I've heard the view from above is much better. Oh, well. This one would have to do for today; I'll get to the other one on my next trip. I did -- and suffered -- enough damage for one day. The long, white thing you see off in the distance are the new apartments at Persimmon Gap, or will be if they ever get finished. (You can click on the picture for a larger view.)

Just so you'll know what to expect if and when you go up against acacia greggii, here's a testament to its effectiveness. Next time I'm bringing loppers to keep from having to reach so far into the bush to get at it. They would've been a big help, believe me.

And so, to end on a more soothing note, here's a shot I took the following day on my way to work I call "Twister Moon." Unfortunately, I had someone behind me when I first saw this phenomenon and couldn't pull over right away, so the moon is a little off-center, but the effect is still there. It's amazing the things you see sometimes.

So, dear friends, I guess that's just about all for this time around. Thanks for stopping in.

Four Bugs and a Mockingbird

Hello again, folks, and welcome to another edition of Doug Duncan, Amateur Entymologist. I've had such fun lately taking photographs of our wee winged friends, I've decided to post a few more just for fun. Here's another variety of a past subject of mine -- the Chinch Bug. I found this little guy on the Window Trail a few weeks back, and he seems a bit perturbed at my photographic persistence. I don't know if his abdomen is capable of spraying or not, or if it's just the least tasty part of his body, but he's certainly got it up for me.

Well, it would seem that he's either decided that my presence is okay, or else he's just finally given up trying to scare me off. Now he's just trying to get away as fast as he can, but he didn't reckon with Doug Duncan, AE.

Another denizen of the park I ran across at work one day is the beautifully-colored Lubber Grasshopper, seen here in its early phase before it grow its wings. This guy was very shy and wouldn't hold still for a photo, but I didn't let that stop me.

Here's a more recent photo of a Lubber, taken just a few days ago on my way to Panther Junction. I'd seen about a hundred of these dark objects slowly crawling across the road on some mad suicide mission (I was dodging them like mad for a few miles trying to give them a break, but then stopped so I wouldn't get pulled over for drunk driving), so I finally stopped and took a picture of one. You can see they've started sprouting their wings now.

Then look at what I found on my thermometer just yesterday -- two Lubbers in the midst of reproduction. Casting all decency aside, I promptly ran back into the trailer and grabbed my camera. I call this shot "Lubbers In Lub." (groan!)

Since these two were being such wonderful models (other things on their mind there, Doug), I took the opportunity to engage in a little scientific photography, capturing the very workings of their reproductive organs. This is a really great shot, I think. You can click on the picture to enlarge it, if you want to see it up close. It's really fascinating.

Okay, moving right along to more G-Rated endeavors, here we have a young Katydid, captured in the early morning light. It, too, hasn't yet sprouted its wings. They're such beautiful little creatures, all lime green.

He, too -- or should that be "She, too"? -- didn't much care for having his/her photo taken, but its attempt at escape allowed me to capture it in a different light.

And here we have a shot taken just yesterday, with its wings now grown out and ready for flight.

And here we have one that didn't quite make it, ending up as a nice, tasty lunch for one of our local spiders (variety unknown). Well, that's life in the Great Outdoors for you, I suppose.

And last but not least, here we have a Mockingbird chick, clinging for all it's worth to the side of a tree. At first I thought it was a Ladderback Woodpecker, due to the way it's clinging so tightly to the trunk, but there is a Mockingbird nest in this particular tree, right over my front door. With those markings, it has to be a Mockingbird.

Well, I guess that's about it for this edition. Thanks for tuning in!

Planes, Floods, and Vinegaroons

Well, this day started off nicely. I was sitting at home working on some old family photos in Photoshop, when I heard a plane buzz the trailer. I ran outside and saw this Cessna 180 from the nearby Stovall Ranch breezing in with half flaps and landing on the dirt airstrip at the Stillwell RV Park. I didn't even know where it was, but I sure do now. I grabbed my camera and off I went to document this beautiful, new visitor.

The main item on this day's agenda was lunch and a swim with my friends, Jennifer and Romaldo in Terlingua. Having made good time getting to town, I decided to bop on down the River Road (FM170) through Lajitas to see what the October flood did to the Contrabando movie set, I was amazed to find most of this "stone" corral missing. The rest of it is in the floodpath, but seems to have held up by some sort of miracle. Nothing the boys in Hollywood can't fix. You can see that from here all the way over to the tree line on the other side is where the river was coursing through during the flood. That's a lot of water.

Peeking into one of the set's buildings, I found the dirt floor still awash with mud from the recent rains. This was not part of the flood damage; just runoff from the hill out back.

Well, I can certainly see a difference already, as this hill is a lot more pronounced than it was the last time I was through here, plus these plants weren't here, either. Looks like some invasive species has set up house. That's the set's church we're headed for down below.

Well, you can certainly see where the high-water mark was here. All the paint and most of the plaster has been eroded off in the current. At least the building's still standing, as again it's nothing that can't be fixed.

Take a look at all the junk the river put up in the top of the doorway. Lots of current action going on in here.

A quick look inside shows all the interior baffle walls have been knocked out. They use them to block the camera's view of the interior so the actors can move around inside without being filmed.

Here's a good indication of the power of the river. This well used to be sitting up on a hill overlooking the river, but is now falling down the new hill created by it. That's a little too much action, folks. CUT!!!

And last but not least, we have yet another denizen of the desert -- the Vinegaroon, or Whip-tailed Scorpion. This nasty-looking little critter isn't nearly as harmful as some of its brethren, as its pincers are the only thing to be aware of. The whip on the end of the tail is just for show, but it can give off a blast of scent from the base when annoyed which smells like vinegar, hence the name. This guy lives under my car-top carrier in front of my trailer.

Well, I guess that just about does it for this installment. Thanks for tuning in.

Clouds, Critters, and Colorful Things

Hello again, everyone. Well's it's been a while since my last entry, so I thought I'd entertain you with a few more shots from around the place. When last I wrote, we were getting kicked around pretty good by some thunderstorms, and it hasn't let up too much lately. While sitting at the computer one evening, I noticed a warm, golden glow coming in from the window behind the computer and looked out to see this billowing thunderhead looming off to the south, bathed in the warm rays of the sunset. I kept looking at it and looking at it, sure I'd seen it somewhere before but couldn't remember where. Then, the other day I was watching a movie put out by Columbia Tri-Star and there it was! It's the cloud in the background behind the woman. I knew I'd seen it!

And on the heels of that were these odd-looking clouds -- our old friends the mammutus clouds. Remember, I told you they were associated with violent weather? Well, these didn't have any teeth to them this time around, as they don't look too well-formed, but it definitely could've happened. We got hit pretty good, anyway, so someone else might've gotten hammered.

Moving on to the critter portion of our show, here's somebody I ran across as I opened the Open/Closed sign the other morning. Found himself a real cozy spot to sleep the night, he did. He was very agreeable to sit still while I ran in and got my camera and took a few shots of him.

He did, however, have some doubts as I attempted to add something in the shot for scale -- my finger. After I got through taking this shot, I thought I'd poke him and get him to raise up. (I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes.) All he did at that point was drop off the sign and scurry off into the bushes. Oh, well. Better than a poke in the finger with a stinger. I mean, really, Doug!

Here's another nasty-looking critter I came across the other day on a hike -- an Assassin Beetle, or Chinch Bug as my Grandpa used to call them. I'm not sure if they're really as nasty as they look, but I've never given them the opportunity to teach me, either. They do stink when squashed, I know that.

And here we have a couple of bugs doing it, right there in broad daylight. I don't know what kind of bugs these are, so I just call them Boinkin' Bugs. As I prepared to shoot another picture, they suddenly became self-conscious and disengaged and flew off. Well, if you're going to indulge in that kind of activity in public, you have to expect the paparazzi to show up some time or another. Just ask anyone in Hollywood.

All the rain we've been getting from these thunderstorm has really greened up the desert nicely these days. All the ocotillo -- which normally look dead and lifeless and very thorny -- have got leaves out all over the place. Once the rain stops and things begin to dry out again, they'll drop their leaves to conserve water.

Never having been out here in the desert in the summer before (okay, sometimes I am fairly sharp), I'd never seen the sotol blooms opened up. What a curious little cluster of what I can only assume are stamen used in pollenation. Very interesting. They remind me of eggs under the tail of a female lobster.

And here we have our last entry of this post -- the cenizo in bloom. They really are quite delicate and beautiful, a perfect match for their velvety leaves. The colors go well together, don't you think?

Okay, I guess that'll just about catch us up for now. As always, thanks for tuning in.

Texas Weather

Welcome to my first Texas summer in ages, and all that that entails -- namely thunderstorms. Here's a thundercloud out to the east, possibly over Lake Amistad, although I can't be certain of that. I've since found out that you don't have to be near a large body of water to get the crap kicked out of you. One of these storms came rolling in the other day and I thought my trailer was going to get blown over. What a ride! Why I didn't catch the effect on video is beyond me. Dang!

And here's another big bruiser, this one a little closer but still in the same general direction. This one is shaping up nicely.

The same stormcloud, just a little later on in my drive. Boy, this thing is blossoming out beautifully. Just look at the flow of those clouds. This one would prove to be a harbinger of things to come this evening, though not as severe or prolonged as the previous storm. It still gave us cause for pause, though.

And here she comes! Now, this isn't the same cloud that we saw just now, but another cloud in the whole system of buttkickers. One of the guys here said he saw a funnel touch down, but I never saw one and the National Weather Service didn't, either. Sure looks like the kind of cloud you'd expect one in, though, especially that area just above and to the right of the trees.

These are called mammatus clouds and are always associated with very severe storms, possibly tornadic in nature. (Did you ever see the movie Twister?) Right after this shot, the blow started and we began to get pelted with rain, but it didn't last long. The last time a storm like this hit the area, 40 power poles were knocked down by a tornado somewhere between the Black Gap Wildllife Management Area -- right next door -- and Marathon, some 40 miles away. Not so this time, thank goodness. Whew! Once is enough, thank you very much.


So, moving on to things a little less threatening, here we have a video of a curious little creature I ran across the other day -- a millipede (Latin for "thousand feet"). I've seen their bleached white husks here and there, but this is the first time I've seen one alive and moving. Very smooth. This guy's about five inches long, which is larger than any I've ever seen before. In reading up on them in Wikipedia, I found out that there are 10,000 species of millipede throughout the world, the largest of which is the African Giant Black Millipede, which can grow to over 15 inches long! That's one big bug, folks.


Ending this blog entry on a humorous note, here we have a video of Pancho, our resident "Paisano" (roadrunner), having it out with himself in the mirrored front door to the Visitor Center. Roadrunners were called Paisanos -- or "Little Friends" -- by the early native Mexican inhabitants in the Big Bend area due to their habit of following the cattle herds and eating the insects stirred up by the cattle's hooves. I'd say Pancho looks pretty stirred up himself right now. What a hoot!