The Bats of Congress Avenue Bridge

Really had a great time in Austin, Texas, thanks to my son Jeremy, daughter and son-in-law (Jamie and Guillermo) all of the extended family and friends, and of course little Mateo. Were it not for his 1st birthday celebration, none of this would have happened.

After a great day of celebration, there of

course way bit of cleaning up to be done. Somehow, I avoided the bulk work and was sent out to take Mateo for a walk. I'm still confused though. I did all the walking (up and down the hilly subdivision), while Mateo dozed comfortably in the "walker;" I think it should be called a "rider."

The real highlight of the day came at dusk, when we set out on a ferry boat ride on Lady Bird

Lake, to see over a million bats begin their nightly ritual and fly out from under the Congress Avenue Bridge, in search of their evening meal.

The Congress Avenue Bridge is home to the largest urban colony bat population in North America, and is Austin's best-known tourist attraction.

An estimated 1 1/2 million bats make their spring, summer and fall home under the Congress Avenue Bridge. The bats, having found refuge by

virtue of a fateful design, unknowingly, built into the bridge. Today this same design is now incorporated into similar bridge designs by intent, in order promote the growth of future bat colonies.

Specifically, that design incorporates a narrow 3-5 inch wide crevice with a recess of 12 inches or more; providing a haven (or perhaps heaven) for bats. The Congress Avenue Bridge has several such crevice-recesses which run the full length of the underside of the bridge.

Our guide for the evenings cruise explained that the bats leave at just after dusk in quest of their evening meal. They will, we were told, normally fly out a distance of 150-200 miles, in search of insects, and return before daylight. During their evening sojourn, they will devour up to 1 1/2 times their own weight in insects, in a single night. Though a mature bat normally averages a weight of only 3 ounces, a quarter of a pound (or more) of insects - is a lot of insects! In total, it is estimated that this single colony of Mexican free-tail bats consumes from 10,000 to 30,000 POUNDS of insects in just one evening.

When one considers the amount of undue pesticides that are conserved by virtue of this single colony of bats, and then, multiplies this by all the existing (and potential) bat colonies, it is clear that, we owe a debt of gratitude to these - ugly little "critters."

The whole event, from the first bats departure until the last, takes several minutes (we left after 10-15 minutes, and they were still departing in large numbers).

Many of the bats have already departed on their southward migration to Mexico, which we were told began in early October and will end in mid November. And so, what we were seeing, though impressive indeed, was not even the full spectacle. In August at the peak of the season, it must be truly SPECTACULAR!

Although, seeing the flight of the bats is, of course, the highlight of evening's ferryboat cruise; the entire event is a pleasant, relaxing and very affordable (only $10.00 per person) evenings entertainment. With the addition of some great photos provided courtesy of the Austin skyline, the night was a complete success.

Tiny Texas Houses

The other day I implied that there would not be any more blogs posted until new plans were formulated. Things have changed, however, and now it's back to blogging sooner than expected.

Yesterday, my daughter, Jamie, and I took a short trip to Luling, Texas, about 50 miles northeast of Austin. The intent of our trip was to see the Tiny Texas Houses located in Luling. We both were expecting to see miniature houses- sort of,oversized doll houses, big enough to (perhaps) walk in, but too small to live in. We

had envisioned a tourist attraction; but what we discovered was much more.

Tiny Texas Houses, is the brain-child of Brad Kittel a slightly-graying hippie (complete with

ponytail and round wire-rim, John Lennon glasses), intellectual and self styled adventurer turned

entrepreneur.

What he has created is a whole new life style of what he calls - "a whole new paradigm of pure salvage living." While not exactly a part of the Green Movement, conceptually it follows the same beat. Kittel downplays America's whole philosophical mindset of, more and bigger is better; and replaces it with the minimal requirements for living comfortably with no frills included.

Specifically, he has picked up on the America's material extravagance and launched what might

be perceived as a - one man crusade, against our material excesses and our throw away society. Tiny Texas Houses use 99% pure salvage materials; only the nails, wiring, insulation and finishing materials (mostly linseed oil, Tung oil and milk paint) are

purchased new.

Kittel began, over twenty years ago, collecting architectural salvage materials, and now has a 140,000 square foot manufacturing/warehouse facility where he both lives and produc

es his- Tiny Texas Houses.

The word salvage harkens visions of the scatters remnants of days gone by; but, in fact, what you find at Tiny Texas Houses, is an orderly arrangement of materials waiting to build the next Tiny Texas House.

The houses are, architecturally, built around the concept of the minimal requirements for living. Most are built with only - a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom and bedroom loft; and range in size from 10 x 16, to the largest, tiny house built to date, 12 x 33.

There is no "lip gloss" in a tiny house; the appropriate term would seem to be - adequate. The tub and shower may be a cast iron tub with a shower overhead, or it may be horse drinking trough with plumbing for a hand held shower; one is more attractive than the other, but both are - adequate.

Perhaps, the most surprising thing about the tiny house is just how livable they appear to be. One finds oneself thinking - I could live here! And the Tiny Texas House, has all the amenities one truly needs for survival - even in the 21st century.

Though the tiny house, is indeed small in size, the price of the tiny house (in relative terms) is not so small; the 10 x 16 models sells for $38,000 (a building cost of nearly, $250 per square foot); the equivalent of paying $380,000 for a 1600 square foot home - less the lot. Salvage materials are not cheap!

Despite the name, and despite its size, the concept underlying the tiny house is more about salvage than it is size. By his own admission, Kittel's future plans call for ever larger - "tiny" houses; but, there are no plans to change the underlying concept of - pure salvage. One gets the feeling that Tiny Texas Houses will remain, for always and ever, 99% pure salvage materials.

The problem is that most of us are just too spoiled with all of our excesses and our need to keep up with the Jones's. Clearly, the Tiny Texas House is not for everyone (I can't imagine raising a family of five in house of 250 square feet or less!).

Nonetheless, I for one, applaud Brad Kittel's effort.

Gathering Things Together & Making Plans

The original plan was to - upon completing the Fort Sumpter trip, head back out the following week to Austin, Texas, to attend my Grandson 'Mateo's' First Birthday Party. To heighten the travel part of the experience, it was my intent to follow Old Route 66 on the Harley.

Unfortunately, with the unseasonably cold October weather, I just couldn't get myself up to make the "trek;" and therefore, decided to take the time to do (what I should have already done) and add photographs taken from the Fort Sumpter excursion, to the blogsite.

The photographs have now been added, and so I would encourage any of you who read the blog before the photographs were posted to, now reinvestigate the site and view the "photos."

Upon returning to Michigan, new plans will be made, and as soon as they are formulated everyone will be advise.

Day Fifteen - The Return Home

In the morning I awoke to the unexpected sound of voices - not good! It had been my intent to wake peacefully undisturbed, and depart from the area undiscovered. Being that it was Saturday, I was confident of that happening - Wrong!

Fortunately, however, after hearing voices, I quickly rolled up my sleeping bag, tore down the tent, packed everything, made sure the area was clean and departed the scene without consequence. Although I was clearly trespassing, they thankfully, for "what ever reason" decided to allow me to vacate area on friendly terms.

Left with no other options, I brushed my teeth and "showered" with my washcloth, bar of soap and water bottle, and struck out for what I knew would be a long day.

Although, I had been there before, it would have been nice to make a return trip to Gettysburg, but the with my remaining resources, that was no longer an option. The entire trip had, thus far, covered some 2400 odometer miles, Bronson, Michigan was still over 600 miles away, and I was determined to sleep there tonight!

It was, of course, cooler now, but I was dressed for the occasion, and at least wasn't raining.

The mountains of Pennsylvania are always beautiful, but with the fall colors in full bloom, the Harley ride along our nations first turnpike was - pure pleasure.

Unfortunately, that changed as I crossed into Ohio, the terrain flattened, the sun began to set and, as a consequence, the air cooled quite drastically. The last 100 miles were - not fun; and when I finally got-off my bike, I found that I could no longer turn my head in either direction, but "time heals all wounds" and - I had made it!

Day Fourteen - Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey and Pennsylvania

After braking camp, I headed north into what was for me more - uncharted territory. One the things I had been looking forward to seeing was Chesapeake Bay, and I wasn't disappointed. Having not done any prior research, I was not prepared for the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel system that connects the south-eastern shore of Chesapeake Bay, at Norfolk, Virginia with Virginia's Cape Charles.

I wasn't prepared the for the - Chesapeake Bay Experience. It begins with several miles bridge, after which your "dumped" into a tunnel for a few miles beneath the waters of Chesapeake Bay. You emerge from the tunnel onto a manmade island and enter onto the second bridge for - still more miles. You are now more than half way across bay, when you're once again "dumped" into, yet another tunnel which emerges onto a second manmade island. On the final leg - the bridge connects to the landfall of Cape Charles.

This area, from the southern point of the cape in Virginia, through a few miles in Maryland, to Dover, Delaware, is a series small, seemingly prosperous cities or perhaps even villages. The whole cape (or is it a peninsula?), bounded on the east by Chesapeake Bay and on the west by the Atlantic Ocean, appears to geographically form the natural boundaries of a state. As isolated, as it is, from the rest of Virginia, I can't help but wonder just how it is - that Virginia and Maryland, and not Delaware, came to acquire the major that part of that cape/peninsula. How is it that, the major land area was somehow bequeathed to Virginia and not Delaware. Food for thought!

From Delaware I proceeded to the east and entered into New Jersey. I was impressed with what New Jersey, in the short time I spent there; but, like my time in Savannah, once again, I departed feeling that I had not done justice to - The Garden State.

At this point, as I entered the state of Pennsylvania, were the weather was becoming a ever increasing factor. Now wrapped in my leather jacket, I reflected back on how - just yesterday, I rode all day a Harley T-shirt!

I was growing weary and eager to find a campground in order to rest for the night. Unfortunately, on the Pennsylvania turnpike, as well as other interstate highways, campgrounds are not well advertised along the way.

As dusk settled in the fall chill increased, and having not found a campsite I made "my own", and hoped I wouldn't be discovered and "booted out".

More Day Thirteen - Because It's There

There were still a few hours of daylight left when I finished the tour of the Wright Brothers National Memorial, and so, (I reasoned) why not - ride Cape Hatteras, to end of the Cape? It seemed, that it would be a shame not to more fully explore the famed "Outer Banks" favored as presidential retreat.

They climb mountains - "Because it's There." And in the same way, I felt compelled to travel to the end of Cape Hatteras - just, "Because it's There."

Along the way, the drift fences placed in the dunes to halt the advancing sands, were now, save all but the very tops of the fences, buried by the sands relentless onslaught. For me, the rolling dunes and the drift fences when combined with the sprouts of reed grasses, presented a scene reminiscent of the paintings which are so often favored by watercolor artists. Several times I stopped to capture the scene with my Nikon camera; but each time, after snapping several photos, I left feeling disappointed by my inability to do - just that.

Actually, there was, one more "ulterior motive" for wanting to go to end of the Cape; and that was to find out what it would take to get to Ocracoke Island. Why (you ask) the interest in Ocracoke Island? It was, in an inlet to Ocracoke Island where on the morning of November 21, 1718, that one Edward Teach, the notorious "Blackbeard the Pirate" was killed and beheaded.

It was only 100 miles ride to end of the Cape. Even so, it was twice as far as I had anticipated, and once I got there it seemed like - it's more less like the rest of the Cape.

It was now early evening, and thus, too late to think about boarding the ferry (the access to Ocracoke Island) with out provisions for staying the evening. And so, now there was nothing left to do, but - "go back to whence I came."

Day Thirteen - First in Flight

1903, and what a year it was! Just think about it - Henry Ford began assembly line production of Ford Motor Company, Bill Harley and Arthur Davidson began production of their iconic classic motorcycle and Wilbur and Orville Wright made history by launching the first flight of a heavier than air aircraft in that same year.

Although, I was eager to go to the Wright Brother's National Memorial, I also needed to get caught up on a back log of computer work that was beginning to pile up; and so, I dedicated the

morning to doing just that. Having accomplished that task, I then proceeded in eager anticipation of what I knew would be a very special day.

Three large buildings of the Wright Brother's National Memorial, commemorate not only the Wright Brothers' accomplishments, but memorialize the entire history of flight itself. From a film documenting the Wright Brother's achievements, trials and tribulations, to paintings and photographs of historical figures from the history of flight, to the first satellites, the moon landing and the International Space Station - it's all there!

In pursuing an area to begin their "exploration of flight", the Wright brothers had selected three prospective sites which fulfilled their requirements for - strong "steady" winds, rolling hills, sand dunes and privacy. Of the three, only the city of Kitty Hawk responded to their letters, and invited them with a warm welcome to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.

Today, grasses now cover the slightly rolling hills of what were once the sand dunes of Kill Dare Hills. Adjacent to the three large buildings of the National Memorial, there are two small wooden reconstructions of the hanger that housed the aircraft and their small workshop. Barely 100 feet from the workshop, stones mark the landing spots of the four flights they made on that cold day on the 17th of December, 1903.

Orville made that first historic flight, simply because - it was his turn. The brothers, to avoid any arguments, simply took turns - and on that day, it was Orville's turn.

That first flight lasted a mere 12 seconds, covered a distance of 120 feet and reached an elevation of 10 feet. Nonetheless, they had proven that - man could indeed fly!

In total they completed four flights that day. On the second flight Wilbur reached a distance of nearly 200 feet and, following that, Orville reached the 200 foot plateau. However, not to be outdone, Wilbur's final flight of the day, was the ultimate triumph - flying for a full 59 seconds he covered a whopping distance of 850 feet!

Wilbur and Orville knew full well, "that today they would make history," and had mounted a tripod camera ready to capture that historic flight.

The Park Ranger related that the photographer that day, "was so caught up in the moment," that when the brothers later asked if he had indeed "captured the moment for all posterity?" He could only relate - "I don't remember!" Fortunately, he did indeed, snap that now historic photograph, perfectly timed, just after lift-off.