Drove from Fort Stockton to Kerrville. Wind and rain. Short day. We’re getting east now. We crossed over to the eastern half of the Texas map. Back in the central time zone. Got some humidity too. Buckhorn RV Resort. It’s definitely a big-rig park.
Grandkid update
Fort stockton
Now we’re getting somewhere. Now we’re in Texas. East of I-25. Haven’t been there lately. We’ve been as far west as San Diego this trip. We’re way east of that now. Even after driving this far east though, we’re still in the west. We’re in West Texas. I love driving this bus down the highway. West Texas speed limit; 80 mph. The truck speed limit is 70. Mostly we just hang with the trucks. We stop for the day before the driving gets old. As a side benefit to that, if you don’t drive more than about 300 miles a day, you only have to stop for fuel every other day. One tank in Benson Arizona; the next tank in Fort Stockton. Two more days before the next tank. We didn’t see the roadrunner at the park in Las Cruces. We’ve stopped at the KOA in Fort Stockton however, and will eat at the Roadrunner Café. Chicken fried steak. A tradition. Scaled quail, pyrrhuloxia, white-tailed deer and javelina.
Las Cruces
We’ve been looking for Montezuma Quail. We’ve been seeing Gamble’s Quail. We’ve moved on. We’ve been out west for a long time. We’re doing a major relocation. Arizona to New Mexico. Patagonia to Las Cruces. East side of the Continental Divide again, but still out west. And at the rest stop at lunch… a flock of scaled quail.
Patagonia
Standing by the river in Parker Arizona last week, watching the ducks on the water, there was another guy standing next to me, watching the ducks on the water. We talked. “Nice weather.” “Where you from.” “Nice ducks.” We were there doing the same thing; admiring the ducks. But as the conversation progressed, differences developed. He started talking about the ducks that dove and what they ate; versus the ducks that just fed from the surface. I explained the differences between divers and dabblers and named a few for illustration. He described the difference between the two in terms of flavor. He much prefers those ducks that fly straight up when you spook them (dabblers) to those ducks that have to run across the water to take off (divers). The divers have a much stronger flavor because of what they eat. We came to admire exactly the same thing, but from completely different directions. Here in Patagonia, we’re scouring the hillsides for Montezuma Quail. Montezuma Quail are plentiful, but they are very difficult to see. They hide in the tall grass and absolutely refuse to move until you almost step on them. You have to cover a lot of ground to spook a quail. Our neighbors in the airstream trailer are here for exactly the same reason. They are having more luck than we are. They got 20 today. They have an unfair advantage, though. They have dogs that run though the tall grass flushing the birds for them. And they have guns. They brought two quail over tonight to show us what they look like. They even offered to clean a couple of them for us for dinner. We decided to go out for Mexican food instead. Patagonia is a small town, but it has five restaurants. You’re probably wondering how we could choose among them for dinner tonight. It was easy. We went to the one that was open on Wednesday. We’re still looking for the Montezuma Quail. We’re not going to put them on our life list until we spot some that are still breathing.



