Joined: 25 May 2009 Posts: 615 Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach
Posted: Tue Dec 13, 2016 11:16 am Post subject: PINS 12/5-12/7
"The ocean is a desert with it's life underground
And a perfect disguise above"
--America, "A Horse with No Name" 1971
"Holes come in many different shapes and sizes in the 32 miles of beach south of the "Big Shell" during the winter months. This one was in the shape of an inverted mushroom. 70 yards across and over 7 foot deep in the middle, it's offshore width narrowed to 35 yards at the opening it had torn through the offshore bar. There was a chill in the light NE wind as I waded out through the crystal clear surf that late Dec. day to a location on the bar on the south side of the opening. Standing in 2 1/2 feet of water, I started to cast my mirrolure across the opening when a large dark shadow in the water nearby caught my eye and stopped me in midcast. White water concealed the fish from my view as a ground swell broke on the bar and I wondered what type of shark was still hunting on the bars this late in the year. It had to be a shark for it was right at 6ft long. As the breaker passed and the water level dropped back down so did my mouth, for the fish was not a shark but a huge redfish. Just laying there watching the opening. I flipped the red and white mirrolure offshore and brought it back in front of the fish only to have it run slowly offshore and swim away unconcerned. I remember having some really mixed emotions as I watched it swim away for I knew I couldn't have hoped to stop it on 8lb line and yet I was totally obligated to try."
--Billy Sandifer, article from "Gulf Coast Connections."
"I make love to mountain lions
Sleep on red-hot branding irons
When I walk the roadway shakes
Bed's a mess of rattlesnakes"
--Motorhead, "I'm So Bad(Baby I Don't Care)" 1991
"Collins erects most of the signals for me and to make the observations I go in the boat on wagon whenever the weather promises favorable seeing. The nearest stations I can reach by leaving camp at four o'clock in the morning and can return to camp about an hour after sundown. Those farther off I go prepared to stay about a week, when the stations are on the Island I sleep in the wagon and if on the mainland I use a small 6*6 tent or sleep in the boat and am comfortable enough except when it rains. I am somewhat exposed but am confident-my health is better than it would be in the north....I have taken the liberty of including a rifle for $30 not mentioned in the estimate. I use it for protection against coyotes, wolves, and panthers which become more plenty as we go down the island."
--R.E. Halter official correspondence to the office of the Coast and Geodetic Survey, April 1878 regarding his work surveying Padre Island for the C&GS
On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound...
After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun, I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead
After nine days I let the horse run free
'Cause the desert had turned to sea...
You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain"
--America,"A Horse with No Name" 1971
Sometimes a man feels like his head is going to explode. Wide open. Just spray thoughts and dreams and worries and hopes all over the place in one gigantic time bomb of anxious apprehension, in no less than a fresh hand grenade filled with a vivid kaleidoscope of emotions. And that's the funny thing about men. You wouldn't know it, but we're all that way. I know for a fact I can look downriver at 2 in the morning on a no moon night, knowing I can't stop because it's high river, knowing there's 1,000 feet of tow out in front of me in the dark and the buoys are pulled in so tight that you're going to kiss the bank before you start coming out of the bend in the river, but I'll do it anyway and drive her down in there on the radar and one spotlight on the red cans on my port side and we'll be fine, and we'll keep going, and in 20 minutes we'll do it again. But one month looking for work causes witches to fly off their brooms 'round here. Humph. Time for a trip to the Island again.
With alternate plans than fishing this night, I headed on down during high tide to get somewhere quite south.
And suited up, and got ready for a trip into a quite special spot that I've just NEVER taken the time to get into before. And I suppose that's what makes this Island what it is, a man just can't ever quite conquer any of it, and if he thinks he has, he's a fool.
What a sight...but I had a ways to go further than this...
And I tell ya what....this was the beginning of a feeling I had that night of Indians, ghosts, and creatures that I couldn't see....
But up I went, this mission was ON and running, no turning back now.
But not without a look back of course.
And what a pretty view awaited me.
And I watched deer for a minute, and then carried on and got back underway.
Down we go...
And those behind watched me warily...
And as I trudged along, I looked back again, like I always do. I just never feel right until I'm far and away from the dune line and I just don't like having the low ground out there sometimes. And as dumb as that is, maybe none of us are as far removed from the old Kronks as we like to think we have become...
And as I humped through so many of these blooming Brown's Yellowtops, I don't think I've ever felt so many ole Kronk eyes upon me...and it was a weird sensation...
But only the seacoast bluestem would wave gently around me, and all was still in late day south Island.
And a mile back in, something caught my eye. And I guess I knew I was going to go check it out.
WOW. Sure enough it was one of those old big buck hangouts where they fight all day and do their thing...
And as I looked west....
Nilgai!!!!! And I tell ya'll what, you can have these things, they are WAY too big for my liking! And run like handicapped pigeon toed donkeys!
So I got to steppin, while the bull male of the group watched me after the rest had run, which I found odd....
And I had to step out into the open to get to the night's lat and long area, but it was what it was...
The spot! One mile and a half long north to south and a half mile wide with fresh water in the middle!
And it was all I thought it would be, and some I had no way of knowing about too....
But devoid of tracks which again, I found strange....where's the animal sign??? At this point in my time...I thought I knew where to look for it and where it should be...and I was mildly alerted that it was absent in this area....but again...what do we really know about REAL life. The life of the Indians, the Karankawa, not the ridiculous crime and 9-5 crap that we've created over in town....
Got pigweed though!
And I just took my time, studying the old ancient layers of sediments...
What a place...undestroyed by mankind, untouched by the "Packery Litterbug Posse," it was all I hoped it would be...
All I ever hope to do is follow Rawalt's footsteps wherever they may have taken him and I think I was barking up the right tree...
And as the sun set, I found the night's camp.
And look, I never chose a neon cottonpicking tent, but that's all Sears wants to sell these days, so here we are.
And before dark could fall, I went ahead and grabbed dinner, a first on Island.
And couldn't believe my good fortune! Look at all this good stuff! Doggonit!
Darn right!
And night fell in the land of Halter, the Kronks, and the ghosts that remain here...
And it started to get colder than I had hoped, that's for sure...And I suppose I should have known better that night. Because everything just felt off. Felt slightly wrong. Felt a little like I was in the middle of something didn't know about. Which I would soon find out was right.
And soon after laying down for the night, and cracking open a book to read it began. The most UNGODLY, HEINOUS, WOMEN'S SCREAM I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. And the hair stood up on the back of my neck and my hackles raised and goosebumps broke out all over my body. Because if there's one thing I REALLY DON'T CARE FOR IT'S CATS! AND A MOUNTAIN LION/PANTHER/BOBCAT WHATEVER YOU WANNA CALL IT HAS THE EYES OF A SNAKE JUST LIKE A CAT SO OHHHH TO THE HE** NO!!!!!
And rather quickly, I made my decision, if I was gonna die a slow painful death via Mountain lion attack I would be DARNED if folks were gonna find me in my tent like a little you know what!!!!! Out the tent I went, yelling and raising nine kinds of he*fire and tarnation my darn self! And the fool cat came CLOSER!!!!
And so it went. I looked for that nasty creature who was probably working in partnership with "Mr. Bad Thing," but I never did come close enough to see it's eyes. And that's probably just as well. And thus went the longest night of my life, and at some point a fox entered the picture raising nine kinds of heck his own self. And I tell ya'll what you can have that cottonpicking dune field for all the tea in China, I'm good!!!!
Adios!! Back to the beach! Evil animal!!!!
In fact, that old nasty murderous cat came so close to the tent that I said to heck with it, you win...and was back on beach by dawn after humping through the early morning's darkness with my gear.
And just to spite that old nasty critter, I made some of the blackest, raunchiest, strongest coffee you've ever seen.
And ate mini wheats and water, because someone forgot the milk.
And miles later, got to fishin'!!! A bull redfish.
And another.
And another.
And just over the limit again.
Determined to catch ONLY slots so we could have a decent meal back at home, of course, I caught yet another!
And finally! One slot!
Having had fully ENOUGH of doggone "bull reds," which since we can't eat because of law or nasty worms-plus they were hitting frozen mullet-I took off! No sport in throwing rotten mullet!!!! So I set up shark camp a few miles away and treated the tent cot for the season.
Ray and pompano head sandwich!
Boom!
And the pelicans flew south overhead...
And I ran out, read the fathometer, got a lowdown on the bars, and made my drops.
Whatsup Willet!
And four drops sat as I rounded up some firewood.
And like always happens after a particularly ridiculous event on Island, I only felt closer to it. While the sound of that cat's bloodcurdling scream probably will never leave my mind, it makes a man so happy to see things the way they should be, no man involved, just animals and history and Indians and footprints in the sand blowing away as I write this in the gentle SE breeze from the beach far away...
And I lit that sucker off, and got nice and warm bedded down next to it, just knowing that old cat wasn't coming near the Shark camp of the Crazy!!!!
And made dinner!
New York strip and in the words of David Sikes...."deer camp beans!"
And I was glad I ate, because it proved to be a long night. The wind shifted around 0100 hours totally unexpectedly to the NE, and it blew....it blew HARD. In fact, it picked up to around 20 until about 0530, and my baits were placed and set for the SE blow that had been the case and the forecasted prediction. Long story short...baits and weights started moving and weed starting collecting on lines out around the 2nd bar. At one point I ended up 1200 feet down the beach in the dark just strapped up and reeling back 600 yards of weed....
Love it! This right HERE is what is gonna rid the world, in fact, the globe...of any fly by night shark heroes that may have accumulated in recent years!
The big bad front forecasted to hit later in the day, I went ahead and packed it in so I could make a plan for the day, whether it be fishing or other.
And the birds and I could just feel the Norther on it's way.
But at least one Jack got defiled and tampered with!!!!
3/32 cable here...
A while later and in a new location, I made the call to go ahead on and hit an area that I have been wanting to get off into for a few years now. It's name and location alone are enough to stop all but the heartiest of souls, and I knew I may have been biting off quite a bit with this one, but here we go! Time to find Coast and Geodetic Survey Station...."DESERT."
Desert, huh?
Going in about 1/4 mile from Francisco Vasquez actual survivor's camp from the 1551 Spanish wrecks, I knew every last step on this journey was through hallowed ground...
And I quickly saw coal clinker. It's strange, it really is. The 1930's Master's Thesis of Pauline Reese documents this along this stretch of Island for about 15 miles, and only speculates it could be remnants of wrecks or wreckage through here. Me? I can only guess too. But these remnants were here and remain here since at least the 30's. This Island has secrets and it'll never tell...
And a "Spiny Jewelbox!" Love these shells!
And about 1000feet back in I felt good. Real good. Like none of this whole rotten world even exists. And like all these years of being one lone shadow somewhere in the middle of the Island just roaming and walking and looking real slowly have led to this day. To this place. To this search and this mission that I was now embarked on.
Lightning whelk! They say once these migrate to the open Gulf from the passes and bays that they grow QUITE large as we know...and it's fascinating to me to think of them this big out there just passing the time on bottom...
And one old bottle! I haven't dated this one yet...
And I got my pictures and set it upright like I do. If you ever find one this way....lol, coulda been I that did it?
And I thought about the storms that have ripped through this hurricane fan. That's what they're called. Once the foredune ridge is breached,the waters fan out and tear the sediments away right down to the bottom layers and more.
And a lone.....30 caliber shell? I forgot which one this is, but it's from the WWII trainer plane Navy boys using the Island for training and target practice...
And then....a TIRE! A REALLY REALLY OLD ONE! Firestone Model T style old gum dipped 6 inch wide!
Completely awesome!
Rawalt, this your tire?
Doggonit, somebody used this one till the wheels fell off...the best date I can get on this is possibly the 1910s or 1920s?
But as always the road led onward.
And I started coming across some other old stuff.
And some GEORGEOUS seacoast bluestem in bloom....
And I wondered....why is this saltwort so GREEN? There was a water source VERY near here....
And even some Camphor Weed this far back in...
And even some critters...coyote...
And then...in the distance...
Wow! Station "DESERT!" It exists!!
And as I approached I couldn't believe my luck.
This was covered for at least 20 years at one point in a 20 foot high dune field, preserving everything that was here! But now it's not!
I could see it was surrounded by...an old fenceline?
Rotted and gone.
Freaking awesome!
And old old OLD fenceposts....with wire wrapped all around?
And an ancient drum? Used to mix the concrete and shell to make a foundation for the station?
What an awesome place for a station!
And I had no idea what these were...
But you're looking at 1939...
With some kinda rod in the middle?
And after digesting all that lay on the perimeter...I cautiously approached the Station monument...but no station disc!!!
But I have driven this road before, I knew it was here...and it was!!!
STATION DESERT SON!!!! LAST BUT NOT LEAST OF THE WAY WAY DOWN SOUTH STATIONS! EXTREMELY KICKBUTT REMANTS OF 1939 IN YA FACE!!
And because that's how we do...I put it back where it BELONGS. Right up on top! Make things right and you'll NEVER look over your shoulder. Never.
And I took my leave and thought about how in 1939 before even Rawalt almost....someone chose to monument this spot and place this station here. AWESOMENESS!!!!
And I found more shells on the way to the dune fields...where I had no intention of going but always draw me near...
.50 caliber autocannon!
I LOVE IT back in here....grown folk only and traveler beware...
And the best part? The Pleistocene Beaumont is exposed in certain places. Offering an actual glimpse at the artifacts of yesteryear!
And I thought about how the Island used to look like this in so many places before the ranching was stopped and the park was formed...and how many Indian arch sites and artifacts and the rest Rawalt and the others found out here....and they're still here but covered with 4-5 feet of overburden now, according to Mr S. and his Historic Report.
What a moment in time.
And you know it...up I went!
To sit. And watch.
Watch the "Desert."
And smell the earth around me. I always smell the Island's soil. Some smells like earth and vegetation and others like salt and others like algal mat and the badlands in the active dune fields of the back? Like NOTHING. And I sat there awhile. And soaked it in. All around the world there's wickedness and evil and death and suffering and disease and now in our "modern" day and age there's 8 year olds with bombs on their bodies doing the work of another but right here on this day....there was only me and the light breeze and the blood that one can hear pumping in their head in such a quiet spot. And one other force, but it's one that we can't see. And that was why I was here, and I knew it. So I took time again, I took the time. And I spoke. And I was spoken to. And an hour later when I felt I had gotten right again, I took my leave, respectfully, thankfully, and with happiness in my heart once again.
And it was time to go. ROLL OUT!!!!!
And I found some things on the way back. I always take an alternate way back unless there's water involved.
Eastern Murex! Awesome!!!
And a while later, there we were.
And I stopped and looked back, and realized the front was here earlier than expected. And I watched it roll in.
And came out of the wild and lonely places about a mile from the truck and got to humping, all the while looking and hunting.
And back at the truck...!
It was Moody's Meat Market sirloin burger time homeboy!!!
And as I drove back home, the hour being 1530 and the day done and the front rolling in, it grew cold.
But I made it, and there I was, another trip in the books.
And I guess that's just about the way things are, they're just like old Padre and can grow cold in a second just like that. And I do suppose there's no changing the hate and anger and killing and the zip of bullets over the heads of the living or the jagged rips that steel takes after it's been ripped open by explosives. And I guess I'm now qualified to speak on the apparent issue of mankind being hunted by mountain lions with MASSIVE attitude problems at 2 in the morning, just because he laid his head down in the wrong place. But how's that any different from the real world? Huh? Try lockup once and tell me I'm wrong. Come stand with me on the wrong corner. But I keep hearing voices in my head that say I'm not done here yet, and I do believe that every night when I see my sweet little baby Elizabeth's big wide blue eyes watching me from over my wife's shoulder as my wife carries her off to bed that I would agree. And this trip to the sand not only inspired me, but it retaught me a thing or two about myself. I have NEVER understood what drives any of us inside nor would I pretend to. But I do know that I may have stopped questioning it, as a friend once or twice told me to stop doing. And I also know that you folks can have that doggone Mountain Lion dune field, cuz I'M GOOD WITH RIDICULOUS ALL NIGHT HOWLING NONSENSE! And I know that there's still a smile on my face from finding Station Desert, knowing it had been lost under shifting dunes for decades before my time. And maybe last visited by Rawalt himself, who knew the location of every station on Island. And I do know that the most important lesson of all this time spend under the sun is this...
Whatever YOUR mountain lion is in this life-you need to GET OUT there in the middle of the night and you need to rip the zipper right off the tent in front of your face and you need to put yourself NOSE TO NOSE WITH IT. Stand your ground and say your piece. Stand for what's right and NEVER let the bullies of this life pull you or anyone else down.
God bless America and God bless Padre. I love that place...just maybe not that annoying a** mountain lion and it's blood curdling nocturnal nonsensical nonsense.
Ya'll take care.
--Colin _________________ Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.
Love it!!! I always like to read them several times to make sure I absorb it all and don't miss anything! I'll be looking again first thing in the morning! Thanks for sharing!!!
All the FEELS man. Great stuff. I absolutely love the photo of the pelican chain flying down the beach. Stunning man, keep it up. _________________ ...if my boss ever finds this forum I'll be unemployed...
Colin - you are a master storyteller. For any of us reading of your adventure from our cubicles or work desks, for a minute in time, we were there with you. If our bosses or coworkers said anything to us, we either did not respond or looked up in utter confusion as to who they were and where we we might be. Thank you for posting great photos and great lines and words both describing the world you saw and also transporting us there.
NoSkunk posted a great story just recently of Fly Fishing adventures and took the time to write and add photos in the way that you do. What is that saying about imitation being the best type of flattery... And NoSkunk was gracious enough even after a wonderful post we all really enjoyed to point another's praise towards you.
Even if we don't feel we are good at the telling and re-telling of tales, I think we should all try in our posts on PINS, inshore or offshore adventures to try to give fellow readers, even if for just a minute, a taste of those beautiful, mysterious and magical places. I will join the list of those willing to try.
I think you won out over that bobcat. Never heard of mountain lions on PINS. Coulda been a fox too if it was close enough. Woulda paid to see your reaction though. I laughed until I almost cried reading your post.
Seriously though, awesome as always. Most people would never know that the dune ridges beyond the foredunes are anywhere near that size. It is an education for us all. You are the MAN. _________________ Fish ON!
Joined: 24 Sep 2011 Posts: 90 Location: San Antonio
Posted: Wed Dec 14, 2016 3:06 pm Post subject:
I must admit that a lot of this I would never really be interested in. However, the way that you present the story and your writing are absolutely fantastic. Others have already mentioned how you capture the moment so wonderfully that they feel as though they were with you the entire time....I feel the same.
This was another great adventure!!! Thanks for sharing.
Joined: 25 May 2009 Posts: 615 Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach
Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2016 10:41 am Post subject:
The morning after this was posted, Mr. Billy Sandifer and I were riding south down PINS just counting coyotes, and all I could think about was "I sincerely hope he hasn't read all that crazy of mine yet...." Thank you fellas for the kind words, it really makes me happy that some of these posts make folks smile, if even for a brief moment. ChrisLayne, NoSkunk's post was nothing short of greatness and is another reason I know for a fact I know nothing about fishing! I've never seen such great photos either. As for the telling of stories, as fishermen we don't wanna cause the crowding out of our spots, but at the same time, part of the trip for most is the telling of a good fishing story. And for some, a "slightly exaggerated" verbal story to friends. Lol. Jeff-it wasn't my face you woulda choked up on, it was something else pinched up so tight that it CAUSED my face to prune up! Lol! On a serious note, a friend of mine at the NPS has a Plaster of Paris mold from an actual verified mountain lion track found about 1000 meters north of the location I was in. _________________ Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.
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