Paddling from Mustang Hollow on Lake Corpus Christi

What do we do on our way from Galveston Beach to our date with The Eclipse in Uvalde, Texas?  Well, we look for a place along the way with stuff we like to do.  We got lucky here in Mathis, Texas, halfway between those two spots.  After exploring Padre Island National Seashore yesterday, we took advantage of a warm, relatively windless day to paddle out onto Lake Corpus Christi, where our campground at Mustang Hollow is located.  Take a look at the map below; we are where the blue circle is; Lake Corpus Christi stretches out to our southwest.  It is so huge that we had no chance to paddle out to the main part of the lake.  We could only explore the estuary of the lake near our campsite.

Our campground has seen better days.  It looks like it had once been a KOA, but now it is a very rustic spot out in the middle of nowhere.  Luckily, the Mustang Hollow Boat Ramp (as it is denoted on Google Maps) still exists.  The lake clearly has fallen in level at least 10-12 feet over the years, but our campground boat ramp still served our purpose:

Once out on the lake, on this nearly windless late morning, we thought we had stumbled on the perfect paddling day:

As we paddled south along the Eastern shore of our branch of the lake, we witnessed an uniformly sad story:  every lakeshore property had a dock that stretches out toward our neck of the lake, but doesn't reach it anymore.  At least this property can boast a waterslide-to-nowhere in addition to the dry dock:

We realized that we didn't see any boats in the water.  Most likely it was because none of the lakeshore properties had deep enough water access to float a boat.  We think that, perhaps, we are seeing the annual low level of the lake, and that Spring rains will raise the level to where many of these homeowners can put a boat in the water.  But we are pessimistic that this is the case.

For example, out in the middle of our little "arm" of the lake, we spotted this old dead tree, stretching out of the water, with white and red poles mounted on it to warn boaters.  We realized that the lake must have had a much higher level at one time, for this construction to make sense.

We thought we would follow our arm of the lake out to where it joins the main body of Lake Corpus Christi (see the first photo above).  We were mistaken.  The lake level has been low for so long, that our "arm" of the lake is no longer connected to the lake at all!  We paddled south as far as we could, hoping to find the channel to the main body of the lake.

Never found it.

We gave up when we realized we were landlocked, and pulled ashore on the stretch of land between our "lakelet" and the main lake.  The shoreline was beautiful, with fresh, tall grass on the high sections of sand, and innumerable freshwater clamshells gracing the shore below the grass:

Here was the view we had at lunch:

We spotted tracks of multiple beings, including humans, deer and coyotes.  We also saw shells testifying to the rich freshwater clam history of this body of water:

We had paddled 2 miles and decided to have lunch while we were ashore.  After eating, we started back, hoping we could find access to the main part of the lake north of our campground.  We paddled along the shore of the "island" (now isthmus) separating us from the main body of the lake, and noted many lacunae, including this old pail, rusty and at rest in the shallows along the beach:

 

 

We hoped that the paddle back to our campground would bring us past more birds, and we were right.  It wasn't long before we spotted this suspicious anhinga --

-- who didn't take long to escape our gaze:

At the four mile mark (two miles out and two back), we returned to the section of the backwater near our campground, and paddled into a ghostly, dead mestquite forest that may have grown next to the stream that had flowed here before the dam that formed Lake Corpus Christi flooded this area.  It was spooky to paddle among the dead bodies of mesquite trees:

Some unfortunate boater got too close to the water hazards and lost his (her?) boat to the Lake Gods:

This tree reminded us of a flying raptor.  We approached it with respect --

-- and Kathy dared to paddle behind it to show herself in its dramatic opening:

We continued on and found another friendly anhinga to memorialize.  For some reason, the anhina are more tolerant of our presence than, say, great blue heron, who are very intolerant and fly away when we approach within 100 yards, or even white egrets, who don't let us get as close as 50 yards.  So...here's to you, friendly anhinga!

We paddled north, past our campground, hoping to find the Northwest Passage into the main part of Lake Corpus Christi.  It looked like we may have found it, when we saw this green marker on a series of pilings:

It turned out that the pilings were the base for a bridge that had apparently run from the shore on our side of the lake, out to that appears to have been an island in the lake:

Past the pilings, we found what probably was the channel to the main part of the lake.  But all we could see was grass, and we were getting tired and pessimistic about paddling along grassy islands, looking for passages, and not finding any.  So we concluded that our section of the lake is, in fact, now separate from the main body of Lake Corpus Christi.  Our little lake is its own ecosystem.

We turned back to paddle to our put-in spot.  We passed a mooring for several small boats presumably owned by campers at our campground:

 

Some egrets were enjoying the sun and fishing along a point near our campground, and we caught one who was not as skittish as the others, giving us some memory of his flock:

 

By now, it was into the afternoon, and the winds had picked up.  We had an energetic paddle, into the wind, back south to our boat ramp from the north end of our estuarine branch of Lake Corpus Christi.  We had paddled nearly 5 miles in about 2.5 hours and felt that we had enjoyed a rather unusual and unexpected environment.

Here's to the next paddle.  May it be as joyous!
 

Padre Island National Seashore

Friday, March 22, 2024 

Hi Blog!

After our time at Betty's RV Park in Abbeville, LA, we made our way over to Galveston Island, Texas. Dave spent much of the time back in Philadelphia puppy sitting for our daughter, while I visited with an old childhood friend, Jan, who happens to have a house in Galveston. Once Dave returned, we both got a chance to catch up with our RV friends, Don and Janis. The weather in Galveston was some of the worst we experienced. There wasn't much opportunity for outdoor adventures to blog about.

On Wednesday, we made our way from Galveston to Mathis, Texas. We are just an hour away from Corpus Christi and Padre Island. While Thursday was pretty much another wash out, Friday promised to be clear and sunny. After some morning fog, we made the drive to Padre Island National Seashore Visitor's Center.

Once you pass the entrance, it is a five mile drive to the Malaquite Visitor Center. The park embraces 70 miles of sand beaches, windswept dunes, grasslands and tidal flats. Kathy happened to spot a coyote marking his territory by the side of the road. By the time we got the camera out, the coyote trotted off into the grass. If you look in the lower right hand corner, you can just see the tip of its ears and the back of its head.

Just down the road from the coyote was a pair of Crested Caracara, also known as the Mexican eagle. This bird of prey is actually a falcon. It is found throughout Central and South America but has been found as far north as Texas and Arizona. Crested Caracaras are not shy or reclusive and are generally easy to spot in the open landscapes they inhabit. 

Once we arrived at the Visitor Center, we confirmed with the park volunteer that it was a coyote and not a fox that we had seen along the road. Apparently, there are no foxes on Padre Island but lots and lots of coyotes. Based on the number of bikinis we saw, Dave would disagreed with that statement. Ranger Dave is always on the lookout for foxes:

While the Visitor Center was small, it did have a gift shop, small museum and large deck to sit and enjoy the view.

Powder-soft beaches line Padre Island's sun-soaked shores, and gentle, shallow waves of the Gulf of Mexico tumble onto land. This postcard-perfect setting has helped Padre gain fame as a prime year-round beach haven.

Sun, sand and surf... what a perfect combination.

Meet the newest member of our stuffed menagerie...Padre the Octopus!

Look out Padre! The sand piper is coming in for a closer look.

Before we started our beach walk, we made sure to note the location of the Visitor Center. 

Sand blowing off the Gulf beaches forms the dunes lining the island's eastern shore. These are known as the “fore-island dunes.” Their existence is critical to the island because they form a natural dike, which prevents storm tides from inundating and consequently destroying the grasslands.

While Padre Island as a whole is not as crowded as Galveston, we did encounter other visitors on the beach. The surf was a bit rough today because of the wind, so, building sand castles seemed to be a favorite activity. We stopped to admire "Castle Dolph."

We spent several hours just strolling along, enjoying the sun and looking for beach treasures or photo ops. Pictured below is Feather In Sand.

Another artistic interpretation... Pen Shell Perspective!

While we knew there were certain beaches on Galveston Island that you could drive on, we didn't realize that all Texas beaches are public highways! The National Seashore prohibits vehicles for a one miles section in front of the Visitor Center. However, the remaining 60 miles of beach are open to driving and primitive camping.

Always on the lookout for beach treasure, we thought we scored a pair of aviators! Arrgh matey, there seems to be a lens missing!

While the SUVs, pickup trucks and small RVs made their way down the beach, we managed to catch these oyster catchers.

While bringing an RV onto a beach that most likely will flood at high tide isn't our idea of a good idea, we couldn't help but admire how cute this little purple combo looked highlighted against the dunes.

At first, we thought this campsite was abandoned by spring breakers who decided to leave their tents behind. We later learned thatthey only went into town to do some shopping. The wind had picked up when they were gone and flattened their camp. Beach camping is not for the faint of heart.

After a couple miles, we decided to head back to the "no vehicles allowed" section of the beach. We leave you with a laughing gull. 

We finished our foray onto Padre Island with a little grocery shopping and some "American" Thai food. The weather the next couple of days looks good. We hope to get our kayaks out tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Leap Day in the Teche Bayou National Wildlife Refuge

Happy Leap Day!  It's February 29, 2024, and we finally have nice enough weather, without social obligations, that we could plan a longer outing.  It was too cool and windy for a paddle or bike ride, so we chose to hike.  The trouble with Cajun Country is that there just aren't very many longer hiking trails in the nearby area.  We finally found an interesting one about an hour's drive away, in Bayou Teche National Wildlife Refuge.  It was so exciting we jumped for joy!

Bayou Teche is a 125-mile-long waterway in Louisiana which was the Mississippi River's main course when it developed a delta about 2,800 to 4,500 years ago. Through a natural process known as deltaic switching, the river's deposits of silt and sediment caused the Mississippi to change its course to its present location.

Bayou Teche is named after the Teche Band of the Atakapas nation—represented, fittingly, by the snake—who, for thousands of years, were at home among the lotus flowers there, settling in encampments along the bayou’s ample ridges, smoke-drying deer meat and hunting alligators. The name Atakapas—which means “man-eater” in Choctaw—originated as a slur toward the tribe, rumored to practice cannibalism. In their own language they call themselves Ishák—meaning “The People.” The last speaker of the Ishák language died in the early twentieth century, taking the living language with them, but today descendants of the Ishák nation continue to call southwestern Louisiana home.

Once described as the “most richly storied of the interior waters, and the most opulent,” Bayou Teche was the center of a booming cypress industry in the early 1900s. The Teche winds its way through four parishes and ends in the Atchafalaya Basin, an essential source of food, timber and fur, a refuge for escaped slaves and a natural resource for enterprising Cajuns and Creoles.

One of the more celebrated groups of South Louisiana’s many colonial immigrants came from Acadie, which is now Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, Canada. These people of French descent were exiled from their homes in Canada by the British when they refused to abandon their Roman Catholic beliefs to worship as members of the Church of England. Rejected even in their home country of France, they were dispersed along the Atlantic coast of present day U.S.A. Some found their way to south-central Louisiana and settled along the banks of the Bayou Teche. Many customs in south-central Louisiana have their roots in the traditions of the Acadian settlers. Descendants of this group are still in the area and are proud of their Acadian (now corrupted into the term “Cajun”) heritage.

Our hike began at a flood control dam on Bayou Teche, in what is now the Bayou Teche National Wildlife Refuge (note that our loyal Jeep Dusty is waiting patiently for us in the far right of the photo below):

Bayou Teche National Wildlife Refuge comprises 9,028 acres of wetlands, water and bottomlands forested with hardwoods and cypress-gum forests. The endangered Louisiana black bear is relatively abundant throughout the refuge. Other wildlife species include alligators, wading birds, ducks and bald eagles. In the early 1990's, the native black bear's numbers had fallen, due to habitat loss, to about 100 bears and was listed as an endangered species.  Bayou Teche NWR was established to combat this population decline.

Where we parked for our hike, there were still some remnants of old industrial activity, or equipment used to construct the canal and levee at the spot on Bayou Teche where we started our hike:

The main trail in Bayou Teche NWR runs atop a long levee alongside the bayou.  We had swamp on one side, bayou on the other, and meadow up top:

Toward the beginning of our hike, we came across a boardwalk nature trail festooned with informative signs explaining the wildlife that is common in the Refuge:

The boardwalk was a short quarter mile or so, exposing visitors to the interior of swamp lands.  One very unique bird box perched above the still waters of the swamp:

As we walked the boardwalk, Kathy spotted movement in the water below.  David got his camera ready, and captured this photo of a swimming muskrat (or was it a nutria?) emerging from under the boardwalk:

Having finished our boardwalk experience, we turned our focus to the main trail along the levee.  We were surprised to find that Spring is starting to visit this area.  We first noticed a bush of pretty little flowers along the water:

A little further along, the bayou, which was narrow at this point, opened up into a broad, shallow pond inhabited by ducks and other waterfowl:

Thistle are starting to appear and blossom along the levee:

Other small wildflowers are appearing, such as these white coneflower-like blossoms --

-- and these pink-fuschia cuties:

Several pipelines and other utility lines cross through the Refuge, and are responsibly marked by signs cautioning against interfering:

Along the way, we spotted yet more wildflowers, these bright yellow:

In some places, the swamp, festooned in variegated greens, looked more like a pastel watercolor than reality:

Spanish moss hung everywhere from live oak and cypress trees along the levee.  One mass of Spanish moss was so large, and hung so low, that David was able to give it a hug:

We reached the turnaround point of our 5 mile hike and stopped for a hot lunch of beans, rice and crawfish.  After a short rest, we turned around and hiked back the way we had come.  Perhaps it was the angle of the sun, or perhaps we were not so distracted by the views on each side; but, on the way back, we spotted several places where animals had tracked up one side of the levee from the marsh, and down the other to the bayou:

We were surprised that we hadn't seen these tracks on the way out, but in any event, looked more closely at the tracks.  We could see where they exited from the swamp.  David followed one track back into the swamp and could not determine what had made the track.  We finally surmised that these were alligator slides.

We also spotted what might have been a fox den dug into the side of the levee, and stretches of levee occupied by what appeared to be a city of gopher holes.

At times on our walk, we gazed at pairs of hawks, either hunting along the bayou, across the swamp, or chasing off vultures or crows or other birds trying to encroach on their territory.  We never had much of a chance to photograph the hawks before they flew off, but we finally snapped this photo of one of them:

All in all, we saw more wildlife and wildflowers than we had expected.  Levee walks can get boring if there are no special attractions along them.  In this case, we had the flora and fauna, as well as the bayou and swamp on opposite sides of the levee, and the hike was done before we knew it.

This stay at Betty's RV Park involves mandatory Happy Hour, so we had to head home to walk Ruby Cat and do other chores, including preparing some snacks for the Happy Hour attendees.  It turned out to be a busy and productive day.

See you next adventure!