Well, we have come to the end of August. I’ve stated it before and I’ll state it again, somehow our planet is revolving faster as our days seems to be at least 22.47% shorter than when I was still in the corporate grind. If someone has a scientific explanation for that (and a non-made up percentage) I would love to hear it. Part of that may be perception as I am consumed by the upcoming haunt event…but I’m not letting go of astronomical anomalies. The good news is Brad and Jan have safely returned from their field assignment. Decided to give them a bit more rest and a chance to start going through their loot of images. Brad will be taking a bulk of the September publishing while I dance with the demons. Going with a quick one today to close the month out. It’s the Estero Llano Grande Pauraque Game!
Hit the jump to learn about this fun activity the next time you are frolicking around the Rio Grande Valley.
Evil clowns to the left of me, horrific jokers to the right, here I am stuck in the middle of haunt season! Technically, Halloween is around 67 days away, but here at Intrigued the spook comes early. We hold our annual Haunted Trail event the last weekend of September which translates to “where the hell did the year go already!!”. We pretty much work on this event 352 days a year taking off only 2 days for the event itself and 5 days to tear it all down and get it back into storage..capping it off with 2 days of badly needed rest before the 50 mile ultra race a few days later. That doesn’t even count all the work Linda does to prepare and put on the party itself (house decor, food, drinks etc.) and the invaluable Haunt Squad who must have something mentally wrong with them as they keep signing up to help out every year (must be the free beer … and root beer ha!). Guessing needless to say, but I am nose down trying to get ready knowing full well I’ll still be putting the finishing touches on the trail as the guests start arriving. Apologies for being out of pocket lately, especially on reading all your great posts – will probably let Brad handle the posts once he and Jan returns from assignment. To hold you over until then, going with a featured feathered friend that also has its nose down.
Hit the jump to read more about this uniquely billed creature.
Greetings from the road everyone! Brad and Jan are still on assignment and Linda and I are sweating it out here in Kansas. I thought the CMAR race day was hot, but this is something else (link here). After a weeks of high 60F’s to mid 70Fs at home, we find ourselves in a heat index upwards of 107F. Definitely a good time to be on the short break from training. Even managed to stop by a couple of birding locations this morning and added two more species for the annual count bring the Average Year’s total to 298 (link here, not updated yet). A mere 2 short of the annual goal – a good thing as the birding has been weak in this latter half of the year. Are other birders noticing this downturn? There was a theory that our Cicada eruption pushed the migrators further north, but that has passed now and still little piping up to be heard.
Will be interesting to see how this plays out, but for now, let’s turn are attention to a feathered friend with plenty of piping.
Hit the jump to read more about our encounter with this diminutive bird heralding from North Dakota.
It’s been a few since our last meeting, well, at least on the wild side. Brad was manning the sister sight while I hunkered down on the mothership to get caught up on the latest race posts. I recall B. from the UK requesting more gory details on this year’s failed 50K ultra trail attempt – well that is officially out there (link here). Warning it is “graphic”, but does answer B’s real question as to why you should NEVER run an ultra ha. On a better note, the Bix7 race recap is also published (link here). That road event went a whole lot better, but ended more emotional as it marked my official retirement from that race after 20 consecutive years.
Somewhat running related, I decided everyone could probably use a good laugh about now. Chaos has laid siege to headlines – the world’s on fire, drama is the rule rather than the exception and angst has consumed empathy. Time to smile at my expense ha. This morning I competed in the new TC .3 mile sprint. Did the recent Olympic events spur that commitment…no…did the glint of a finisher medal catch my eye…no…perhaps a personal misogi purification ritual (currently reading the Comfort Crisis) to rekindle the fast twitch leg muscle fibers long since forgotten…nope. Truth is it was the garbage truck. Normally our trash isn’t picked up until after 11:00am. The Monday morning routine, internal alarm clock rings, the covers are thrown back and jump into the day. Translated, Linda comes in and announces it is garbage day reinforcing her “Waker of the Dead” moniker earned at the last ultra race. Fast forwarding, I slapped on some slip in sloggers by the door and head out to the trash container – halfway there, the ears pick up the distinct beeping of the truck. Power walk the best I could in the loose shoes the 300 or so feet to the street – it had moved on to the neighbor. Mind you this is rural, so when I say neighbor, think at least a 10th of a mile. I started running down the middle of the road pulling the can behind me waving like a lunatic to get the driver’s attention. No luck, gets in truck and goes to the next one which is two 10ths past the last stop. Now I am sprinting..mind you it looks more like the ministry of silly walks because I’m hauling the can down the middle of the road trying to keep the damn shoes on while waving. THANKFULLY none of my neighbors saw me or I would have assuredly made it into the local newspaper – pretty sure I heard a couple of Deer yucking it up in the nearby trees. That stop had several cans giving me extra time to cover the ground. Not sure who was more startled, me for being able to run that fast in those conditions or the driver who kept looking at me and then back up the road where my driveway was. Apparently our previous driver quit and the new guy went back to the original order of the houses. I am here to declare that if the Olympics are willing to add Breakdancing, they need to look into Trash Can Sprinting for Los Angeles in 2028 – gonna get me a medal!!
Quite pleased with myself (although still glancing around to make sure nobody was watching beyond those heckling Deer) I limped back to the house dragging the now much lighter garbage can. Walked in the house and was met with “What the hell happened to you!?!”. “Well, I started training for the 2028 Olympics, but we should get better wheels on the trash can – now I must hydrate”. Linda simply turned and went about her day. Tells you something about the things she takes as normal when it comes to me hehehe. Hopefully your smile will last the rest of the day!
In honor of my post competition limp, let’s get to today’s featured feathered friend!
Hit the jump to read more about the “Limp”kins spotted on our trip last year through the Florida Panhandle.
And here we are, the first day of August. The entire Intrigued staff are very aware today is the official start of Haunt Stress Season. Our annual Haunted Trail event (link here) is now less than two months away and simply based on the number of half-done projects scattered about the headquarters, there is going to be a lot of sleepless nights between now and event opening. I am going to hop on the Mothership and get a couple of pending race recap posts out that I don’t want on the top of the list while trying to finish up the new props (one of the posts is going to be painful enough all by itself). While I lighten the top of my queue, Brad is going to bring you a new field find from South Carolina.
Take it away Brad…
During a typical Illinois winter, Jan and I like to escape the weather for a week or so in February. Last year we went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (not very far from North Carolina). This year we visited Hilton Head Island on the other end of South Carolina, right next to Georgia. After a long morning at Sea Pines Forest Preserve, we wanted to see birds at the seashore. One of the Top Ten lists for birders in the area suggested Fish Haul Beach, so that’s where we headed.
As we left the parking lot and walked through the dunes, I could see what looked like a bunch of ants way out at the edge of the water. Being a typical landlubber, I had completely forgotten about the tides. When it’s high tide, no problem, there’s a narrow beach and no tidal flat to walk on. But at only a few minutes before a very low tide, the flats are a couple hundred yards deep (beach to waterline) depending on location.
Tide’s out. Let’s go see what’s out there.
Naturally, I began to stroll in that direction. Jan started strolling as well, but in a completely different direction on the tidal flat, there was so much area to cover! There’s always that little bit of a funky smell when the tide is all the way out. The sand was wet but very firm and easy to walk on; much easier than the really dry powdery sand above the high tide line. These little clear tubes were sticking up all over the place. They sort of looked like a forest of plastic drinking straws. Remember grade school milk cartons and those little plastic straws? That’s just what they looked like, but a bit shorter. I tried to be careful not to step on them, but quickly realized that was a losing proposition, and trod as carefully as I could through the forest of inch-long (25mm for the rest of the world) clear tubes. I still don’t know what was hiding under the sand, maybe there’s a future story when I find out.
A lady was scraping mussels (or clams or oysters) off a rocky pile as I passed by. She didn’t even look up; they must be very used to tourists with large cameras strolling by at low tide. The mussels (or whatever they were) must have been particularly good that day.
As I got closer to the ants, I could see they were actually medium-sized black and white birds with a bit of orange/red highlight color. From that distance I still couldn’t tell which end was which. Before I could get close enough for a decent identification photo, the bunch of them took flight. My shoulders fell when I thought I missed my chance at a +1 bird.
Wildlife Intrigued 