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washingtonpost.com
The Best Little Bird Town in Texas
Birders from around the world are flocking to McAllen and the Lower Rio
Grande Valley.
By Carol Sottili
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, September 28, 2003; Page P01



You half expect people to start throwing away their canes, speaking in
tongues and screaming hallelujah when Roy Rodriguez starts preaching about
the birds of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

Rodriguez's eyes shine and his usual rapid-fire speech revs into machine-gun
gear as he gets going about the nearly 500 species of wild feathered beasts
that have been found in a narrow swath of land that follows the Rio Grande
along the Mexican border.

"This place is lousy with birds," he declares as we canoe down the river on
an early April day. He is not exaggerating. In less than two hours, we see
42 different species of birds: snowy egrets, great egrets, cattle egrets.
Tricolored herons, great blue herons, little blue herons, green herons.
Harris's hawks, Swainson's hawks, broad-winged hawks, Cooper's hawks, gray
hawks.

Rodriguez, who leads these canoe trips for the nonprofit Friends of the
Wildlife Corridor, is supposed to be steering the canoe, but he's finding it
difficult to keep both hands on the paddle while pointing out the scores of
birds that are swooping, soaring, diving, calling. It is spring, and these
birds are at their peak, decked out in colorful plumage, fighting one
another for territory, showing off for potential mates. Swimming garter
snakes and giant breaching yellow carp try to steal the show, but they've
got nothing on the small green kingfisher that plunges off an overhanging
branch, grabs a small fish and beats it senseless against a log before
swallowing it in one gulp.

"Look at the colors on that bird," Rodriguez exhorts, sounding like a
Tex-Mex version of the Crocodile Hunter. "See that rusty patch on the
breast? It's a male. His head looks positively too big for his body. That's
one beautiful bird."

Six of us in two canoes, on a warm Texas day caressed by a light breeze,
have entered the tabernacle of birding, and we are all infected with
Rodriguez's tent-preacher passion for this region's natural bounty.

Birds as Business


McAllen, Pharr, Alamo and Mission are just a few in a string of border towns
that line the Rio Grande in south Texas. None is close to a major city:
Brownsville is 60 miles away. McAllen, the largest of the four, with a
population of about 110,000, has just one tall and one short high-rise. The
city is burgeoning with strip malls, fast-food joints and inexpensive chain
hotels, all built to accommodate the ever-increasing numbers of "Winter
Texans" who come down from places like Minneapolis and Winnipeg to
square-dance and escape the cold, and the Mexican nationals who cross the
border each day to shop, eat and work. Spanish, not English, is the dominant
language, and you can scan the entire AM radio dial and find just two
English-speaking channels.

While McAllen is booming, other nearby towns, such as Alamo, are still
dominated by fields of onions, cotton and sorghum. There is real poverty
here. But the edges of the rusted mobile homes with their chained front-yard
mongrels are softened by pastel sunrises, patches of wild sunflowers and
olive sparrows on the wire, bills thrown back in song. Such is the effect of
the region's natural beauty.

The idea of this place as a mecca for outdoor-loving naturalists seemed a
little far-fetched not that long ago. While the potential was there, locals
were slow to figure out that binocular-toting tourists with open wallets
would come in large numbers to enjoy Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge,
Bentsen Rio Grande State Park and Anzalduas County Park, undeveloped lands
that sit smack in the middle of a geographic migration funnel anchored by
the Rio Grande. Birds and butterflies amass here in great numbers, either as
they pass though from wintering grounds in Mexico and farther south, or as
permanent residents. It is one of the few places in the United States that
attract unusual tropical birds.

Nationwide, wildlife-watching has become a popular -- and profitable --
pursuit. According to the most recent U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service survey,
in 2001 more than 18 million people traveled to bird-watch.
Wildlife-watchers spent about $8.2 billion, the study concluded, with about
$229 million dropped in Texas.

Nancy S. Millar, director of the McAllen Convention and Visitors Bureau and
originator of the nine-year-old Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival in nearby
Harlingen (granddaddy of the now 20 or so Texas nature festivals that draw
thousands of tourists), was one of the first chamber of commerce types to
spearhead the effort to convince business and political leaders that they
could make money by saving the land. "I just kept at them," Millar said. "It
was just so obvious that our natural attributes were a wonderful way to draw
tourists to our region."

Over the years, a strange partnership of dollar-hungry business leaders,
government officials and tree-hugging bird-watchers has evolved, and in the
past decade, they have joined forces to pull the region, sometimes kicking
and screaming, into a world where ecotourism is big bucks. Indeed, a recent
survey estimated that more than 95,000 nature tourists visit the Lower Rio
Grande Valley annually, injecting nearly $39 million into McAllen alone.

Birders from around the world have been drawn by the new Great Texas Coastal
Birding Trail, a $1.4 million, 700-plus-mile route completed in 2000 that
starts near the border of Louisiana, hugs the coast through these border
towns and then moves along the river to just south of Laredo. The World
Birding Center, a trail of nine nature-viewing sites to be constructed in
coming years east to west across Texas, from South Padre Island to Roma, is
expected to attract even more travelers. And butterfly watchers, a far
smaller but growing group, will likely visit the region in even greater
numbers when the North American Butterfly Association's International
Butterfly Park is built in Mission.

Birders from England, Germany and France are already everywhere, traveling
in twos and threes, intent on adding scores of new birds to their "life
lists" of the species they've seen. "We're only here because the birds are
here," says Eugene Hood, a pensions administrator from Kent, England, who
was on a 17-day trip through southern Texas with two friends, hoping to add
a couple of hundred bird species to his life list of 1,000. Don and Jan
Pirie from Connecticut, who have traveled to Venezuela, Trinidad and Tobago,
and other exotic birding locations, are typical of the American birders who
visit the valley. "It's one of the best birding spots in the country," said
Don Pirie. "Everyone talks about birding in South Texas."

Like Hood and Pirie, I had come to this birding crossroads to experience the
yearly spring commute and, even more important, to see the many specialty
birds found in the United States only in this small corner of Texas. On the
plane ride down, I thumbed through books that described the green jay, plain
chachalaca, olive sparrow, Altamira oriole, long-billed thrasher,
hook-billed kite, clay-colored robin, northern beardless-tyrannulet and
ferruginous pygmy owl -- birds I could never hope to see without making this
trip. My plan was simple: to add as many of these rare birds to my life list
as possible, while allowing time to appreciate the local flavor.

Day 1


I am up before dawn, headed for the Santa Ana National Refuge, a 2,088-acre
reserve established in 1943 specifically for the protection of migratory
birds.

The hawk watch here is a true labor of love. From 7 a.m. until noon, from
March 15 to April 15, volunteer bird-counters arch their necks uncomfortably
and point their binoculars straight up, intent on figuring out the number of
hawks migrating north. This year, they counted 54,788 migrating raptors.
Volunteer Gene Wilhelm recalls the 12,500 hawks that flew overhead in just
22 minutes one day in early April. "I call it a river. It was a stream of
continuous hawks. Incredible." In 20 minutes that afternoon, we watch about
6,300 raptors (mostly broad-wings with a smattering of Swainson's) float
high on the thermals past us.

The refuge offers other surprises, too. A female rose-throated becard, a
bird usually found in more tropical locales, has built a nest. Clay-colored
robins, another bird that typically stays south of the border, forage below.
Even the more usual suspects -- the brilliant-orange-and-jet-black Altamira
oriole, the clownishly colored green jay, the noisy and ungainly plain
chachalaca -- are enough to cause birding sensory overload.

In late afternoon, I head to Quinta Mazatlan, a historic adobe home on eight
acres in downtown McAllen, designated to become the city's World Birding
Center site. Jane Kittleman, a retired schoolteacher and expert birder whose
North American bird list nears 800 out of a possible 900, leads the way and
immediately directs me into the underbrush to see the common pauraque, one
of the valley's "money" birds. Sure enough, a pair of pauraques explode like
quails from the brush. A family of colorful Harris' hawks hunt overhead, and
the first American redstarts and Nashville warblers of the spring feed in
the trees.

Later, we visit the home of Allen Williams, who has spent backbreaking hours
and many dollars turning the fallow fields behind his house into a native
plant Disneyland for birds. The excuse is a chance to see the blue
mockingbird, another tropical "accidental" (a bird almost never appearing in
a particular area), and the bird does not disappoint. But Kittleman, one of
the group of local leaders devoted to advancing this region as a birding
haven, is also intent on showcasing Williams's devotion to the land. The two
quietly discuss strategies for persuading the hospital that owns 10 acres
next door to grant an easement on its property. Some form of this
conversation runs through every outing.

At the end of the day, after a plate of delicious enchiladas, beans and
rice, I drop like a stone into bed -- but not before doing a quick
assessment: I've seen 67 different species in one day, at least 25 of them
for the first time in my life.

Day 2


At 8 a.m. I pull up to the McAllen Chamber of Commerce to find a group of
intent birders peering through expensive scopes pointed at the city's lone
tall high-rise. "We'll introduce you later," Millar says. "Now you've got to
see the peregrine falcons. One was just eating a pigeon." And sure enough, a
peregrine is calmly preening itself, nestled in the "C" of the Chase
Manhattan Bank logo above the 17th floor.

An hour later, Millar, Rodriguez and Martin Hagne, another top area birder
who is also the director of the Valley Nature Center in nearby Weslaco, and
I are cruising the suburban streets of the neighboring town of Pharr like a
SWAT team on the hunt. The van is still moving when Rodriguez swings open
the door, stage-whispering, "I hear them. I hear them. Let's go."

We spill onto someone's front lawn, trying to ignore the huge dogs lumbering
toward us, as Rodriguez trains his binoculars on a flock of noisy
red-crowned parrots, another species rarely found in the United States. They
take off, and so do we, jumping back in the van and following the flock as
it wings north. Amazingly, we find them again, this time getting a close-up
view of the large, brilliantly colored parrots.

We're then off to a private pond surrounded by farm fields that will soon be
subdivisions. As Hagne trains his scope on a least grebe, Rodriguez starts
talking to local Jose Garza, who has driven his golf cart over to
investigate our group. Garza complains about how the land he loves is being
parceled off, and Rodriguez seizes the opportunity to educate him about
granting a conservation easement on his land.

Bentsen Rio Grande State Park, slated to be the headquarters of the World
Birding Center, is our next stop. Two more "wow" birds -- a nesting gray
hawk and a northern beardless-tyrannulet, which is much smaller than its
name -- are added to my list.

As the day turns hot and still, we use the time to view butterflies, which
fill in voids created when heat-sensitive birds take a siesta. Giant
swallowtails fly by. An American snout, which sports a doglike muzzle, is
sighted. Two butterflies whose names sound like characters from "Star
Wars" -- an empress leilia and a tawny emperor -- float past.

That afternoon, I tour the sorghum fields along the Rio Grande that will
eventually become the headquarters for the International Butterfly Park. A
butterfly trail has already been hacked through the underbrush, and several
small fields have been planted with butterfly-friendly native plants.
Butterflies as pretty as their names -- zebra heliconians and lyside
sulphurs -- are everywhere.

Day 3


The always-present U.S. Border Patrol jeep follows our truck and pulls over
as we launch the canoes in an isolated portion of the Santa Ana National
Wildlife Refuge. Rodriguez shrugs; he is used to their presence. "They don't
give us any trouble," he says.

As we paddle, Rodriguez tells how he nearly tripped over an illegal
immigrant who had curled up to die in 110-degree heat one day last summer.
Returning from a six-hour round trip to see the curlew sandpiper, a Eurasian
bird that had been blown off course, Rodriguez had stopped at a highway rest
stop and followed bluebirds as they flew through a stand of trees into the
scrubby desert. There he found the parched man, nearly unconscious, mumbling
prayers in Spanish. An ambulance was called, the man's life was saved, and
Rodriguez, who had almost said no to the trip, decided that driving three
hours each way to see a rare bird may have a greater purpose.

With that story running through my brain, we dock our canoes and I head back
into the refuge, trying to squeeze out just one more bird to add to my life
list before heading to the airport and a flight home. I hit pay dirt with a
black-crested titmouse. During the flight, I list the birds I've seen -- 100
species, 44 of them new to me. My North American life list has been jolted
to 325, which, while not impressive, delights me.

The next day, back home in Virginia, I put the top down on my convertible,
pop in my Texas Tornadoes CD and head to local Burke Lake, feeling a little
let down by the fact that I am not likely to see so much in the way of birds
for some time to come. As I hike the levee, a flotilla of three dozen
double-crested cormorants comes into view. They are diving, one after the
other, coming up with big thrashing fish whose bodies glint silver in the
afternoon sun. As I round the bend, I hear the "drink your tea" call of the
season's first rufous-sided towhee and spy a newly emerged yellow-and-black
tiger swallowtail butterfly as it flutters across the path. Yellow-rumped
warblers flit around in the trees as American toads trill to one another.

The showy green jays and great kiskadees have been left behind in southern
Texas, but the Rio Grande-inspired awe of the natural world travels well.
Now, if I could just find a good plate of cheap, authentic enchiladas.

Carol Sottili will be online to discuss this story Monday at 2 p.m. during
the Travel section's regular weekly chat on www.washingtonpost.com.


Details: Birding in Texas


GETTING THERE: American and Continental offer connecting flights from all
three Washington area airports to McAllen, Tex.; lowest round-trip fare is
$401 on Continental from BWI. Southwest flies from BWI to Harlingen, about
35 miles east of McAllen, from $396 round trip.

WHEN TO GO: Birders visit the area year-round to see neotropical species.
Spring, with its concentrated migration, is best for those wanting to tally
the most species. Birds also migrate in fall but over a much longer period.
Winter is popular because the trip doubles as a warm-weather getaway. Summer
is hot.

WHERE TO STAY: I stayed at the birder-friendly Alamo Inn (801 Main St.,
956-782-9912, www.alamoinnsuites.com) in Alamo. A room with a kitchenette
costs $42 a night, and innkeeper Keith Hackland, a birder and leader in the
local environmental community, is a great help with local maps and
directions to birding hot spots. Other possibilities include Casa Santa Ana
(3239 S. Tower Rd., 956-783-5540, www.casasantaana.com; doubles from $90) in
Alamo and Indian Ridge Bed & Breakfast (Bentsen Palm Drive and Two Mile Line
Road, 956-519-3305, www.indian-ridge-bb.com) in Mission, doubles from $90.
If you'd prefer a hotel, the Renaissance Casa de Palmas (101 N. Main St.,
888-236-2427, www.casadepalmas.com) is a beautiful historic property in
downtown McAllen; doubles from $79.

WHERE TO EAT: I was perfectly happy rolling out of bed and having the
football-size 99-cent breakfast taco stuffed with eggs, potatoes and cheese
and the bottomless cup of 89-cent coffee at El Dorado Restaurant (755 Main
St., Alamo), then returning at night for the $6.95 Mexican plate special.
The restaurant is similar to the many locally owned eateries in the area
that offer good Tex-Mex food that's hard on the arteries and easy on the
wallet. For more upscale dining, try Republic of Rio Grande (1411 S. 10th
St., McAllen); the chipotle chicken is excellent.

BIRDING HOT SPOTS: Best bets within easy driving distance of the McAllen
area include Anzalduas County Park (956-585-5311,
www.missionchamber.com/anzalduas.html), Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park
(956-785-1107, www.tpwd.state.tx.us/park/bentsen), Edinburg Scenic Wetland
Trails (956-381-5631), Quinta Mazatlan (956-682-1517), Santa Ana National
Wildlife Refuge (956-784-7500, southwest.fws.gov/refuges/texas/santana.html)
and Valley Nature Center (956-969-2475, www.valleynaturecenter.org). Most
offer guided birding hikes.

Birders with a week or more usually start at South Padre Island and then
head west along the river, through the McAllen area, to Falcon Dam, stopping
at various sites along the 140-mile route. In addition, the Great Texas
Coastal Birding Trail covers the region and is a good place to start doing
research; maps can be ordered at 888-900-2577, or can be viewed or purchased
at www.tpwd.state.tx.us/birdingtrails/coastal_trail.

Another good resource is the World Birding Center (956-584-9156,
www.worldbirdingcenter.org), with nine birding sites in the Rio Grande
Valley.

ORGANIZED TOURS: Many birding organizations and tour companies offer group
trips to the lower Rio Grande Valley. Resources include the Audubon
Naturalist Society (301-652-9188, www.audubonnaturalist.org), Bird Treks
(717-548-3303, www.birdtreks.com), Wings Birding Tours (888-293-6443,
www.wingsbirds.com) and Borderland Tours (800-525-7753,
www.borderland-tours.com). Birdtreks, for example, has a "Winter Birds of
South Texas" tour Feb. 6-15, which includes accommodations, guides, meals,
entrance fees, ground transportation and tips. Cost is $1,695 per person
double; airfare is extra.

NATURE EVENTS: Local nature festivals are a big draw for birders and other
naturalists. Choices include the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival
(800-531-7346, www.rgvbirdfest.com), held in Harlingen in November; the
Texas Tropics Nature Festival (877-MCALLEN,
www.mcallen.org/tourism/naturefest), held in April in McAllen; the Texas
Butterfly Festival (800-580-2700, www.texasbutterfly.com), held in October
in Mission; and Dragonfly Days (956-969-2475,
www.valleynaturecenter.org/ddays.htm), held in Weslaco in May.

INFORMATION: McAllen Chamber of Commerce, 877-MCALLEN, www.mcallen.org.

-- Carol Sottili



© 2003 The Washington Post Company



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