Laguna refuge opens up on its secrets

LOS FRESNOS — The expedition, as it were, was about to embark on a trip to the deepest reaches of the wildest area in the Lower Valley — Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge.

Since the refuge closed its 15-mile Bayside Wildlife Drive to vehicles four years ago in order to protect endangered ocelots, the only way to access the interior of the refuge has been either by bicycle, on foot or via the tram.

We’re taking the tram.

The refuge is a landscape consisting of coastal prairie, Tamaulipan thorn scrub, sand and clay dunes, and tidal flats set within thousands of acres of wetlands bordering the lower Laguna Madre, one of five hypersaline lagoons in the world.

Those distinct ecosystems, and in particular the edges where they meet, are the reasons for the rich wildlife viewing available to tram riders.

You can see white-tailed deer and nilgai antelope (common), the rare aplomado falcon (almost always), an ocelot (practically never) and even a mountain lion (yes, this month).

Nilgai stampede

Our first brush with wild things other than cactus comes as we stop along a dry lake bed, and tour guide James Alexander, who goes by Alex, talks about the ebb and flow of fresh water at the refuge, and the impact it has on wildlife.

With the tram paused, nine tawny nilgai cows hiding in thorn scrub 70 yards away can no longer stand the pressure of our nearby presence, and bolt from the brush to the center of the lake bed.

The nilgai pause to give us a disdainful look-over before moving briskly to the edge of the lake, and disappearing over the bank a half-mile away.

Further down the caliche track, the tram rumbles on, when a fork-horned white-tailed buck leaps from the brush next to the trail, heading to the safety of the nearby thorn scrub. The base of his yellow antlers are thick, and they sweep upward.

A pair of white-tailed does appear, and move to the edge of the brush, but they’re not concerned about us enough to enter it and hide completely.

Water world

Soon we enter the coastal area near the Laguna Madre, and this being an open-air tram, one experiences the smell of the bay at low tide, a sharp and primeval reminder of where life itself got its foothold.

Bird life abounds here, with ospreys and great blue herons visible and massive flights of redhead ducks sitting out in the bay. There is a handsome reddish egret hunting in the shallows for mullet, and both versions of pelican, white and brown, populate the spoil islands.

Throughout the trip, Alex keeps up a running talk on the region’s history, its climate, geology and Native American inhabitants. He recounts how the refuge came into being, and some of the challenges it and the wildlife within its 70,000 acres face today.

All in all, the broad-based narrative alone seems worth the price of the tram.

Farther down the track, a pair of nilgai cows nervously slip into the brush line a half-mile away, perhaps made anxious by the high winds coming off the Laguna Madre.

Then on the right, a bigger white-tailed buck breaks away from the path and heads for heavier cover. He has the wide, flat rack of a typical mature South Texas buck, and it goes somewhere between eight and 10 points.

Lions of Laguna

Dick Roy is the tram operator for tours at the refuge and is driving this one.

He says he saw a mountain lion on the tram trail near the Laguna Madre on Dec. 9 while hauling nature-lovers through the refuge.

“He was real dark,” Roy recalled. “I’ve seen a lot of them up in the Rocky Mountains, up in Washington and Oregon, but he was darker.

“He just sat there and looked at me,” Roy recalled. “I sat there with my mouth open, the best I could do.”

Mountain lions are sighted periodically at Laguna Atascosa. Biologists here say since male mountain lion ranges can be as large as several hundred square miles, they suspect a lion can be on the refuge at any given time, but they doubt there are any permanent cougar residents here, just transients.

Rare aplomado

The aplomado falcon is a medium-sized bird native to southern Mexico and the Yucatan Peninsula. The Valley is about as far north as this rare bird goes.

The name “aplomado” in Spanish means lead-colored, referring to the blue-gray areas of the handsome bird’s plumage.

At least that’s what the birding guide says. We lack a live version to make our own comparisons.

Alex insists we have a good chance of seeing one to add to our birding life-list today. He says they usually perch on fence posts about four feet off the ground, and rarely land higher up on the power lines we see on the horizon.

Despite nesting boxes and hacking platforms for fledglings to learn to fly erected by the refuge, none of the birds are feeling in the mood today to show themselves, and the fence posts remain bare.

All we’re left with this afternoon are the lazy loops of turkey vultures, their wings V-shaped as they shift and slide across the thermals rising from the prairie.

After-action briefing

Alex and his wife, Jan, are new at the guide game at the refuge and both break in on the tram microphones when they see an animal or plant of interest.

“Our first tour was Dec. 1,” Alex said. “We full-time RVed the last five and a half years or so. We were in Florida before that, and before that we were in Mexico for a couple of years. We’re Michiganders further back.”

Alex said the refuge’s lead ranger, Marion Mason, did a thorough job of briefing he and his wife about narrating the tram tours.

“Marion had put together kind of a compilation — she’s done this many times — and it listed all the key points there and the things we want to emphasize, so that was a great cheat sheet and I just try to personalize it,” Alex said.

The tram rides at Laguna Atascosa will continue through February.