It’s a normal June morning in rural Central Texas, peaceful, cool before the heat of the day, and filled with cheerful birdsong. But, wait a minute, is that marching and cadence calling in the distance? If it was between June 15th and 19th, 2013, yes, you certainly heard the 21st Battalion of the Rolling Plains Bobwhite Brigade, where I spent five incredible days.
What is Bobwhite Brigade? Is it some kind of boot camp? In a nutshell, it’s a camp where quail conservation is taught alongside leadership and teambuilding skills. Marching is an activity that serves a few purposes: get kids up and moving in the morning, make them work together as a team, and teach them discipline. Although some people would argue Bobwhite Brigade and the rest of the Texas Brigades are boot camps, and at times they seem like one, this camp is just one amazing experience with no affiliation with the military.
I probably wasn’t marching those mornings; I was more likely filling water coolers for the twenty-two “cadets”, their four adult “covey” or group leaders, and four Assistant Covey Leaders (known as ACLs who were cadets last year and earned their way back). This year, I was a Special Agent, or, in other words, a well-worked, well-appreciated go-fer. Some of my duties included filling water coolers, helping set up activities, and acting as assistant to instructors. I was much higher on the totem pole, which equaled more privileges, but I missed being more involved with the coveys and the learning process.
As a behind-the-scenes staffer, I gained more insight on how the camp was run and appreciated more fully what the instructors had to deal with. I arrived Saturday morning, eager to be at camp, and after putting away my bags and greeting instructors and friends, was put to work setting up a display of Brigades shirts. As the day progressed, I figured out what was expected of me and threw myself into it. This camp is a “no-whining zone” and though you can complain in private, to your fellow Special Agents quietly, and to the trees, you’d better not whine to an instructor when they ask you to find another instructor and you have to go through all three buildings before you finally find her. Or when somebody tells you that the bathroom isn’t working properly and you have to talk to several people before you eventually discover somebody who can fix it. Not allowed. Luckily, I was eager to please and everybody from the cadets to the highest instructors knew if they brought me a problem, I would fix it, or find somebody to fix it. This was excellent for my reputation, but could be hard on the legs at times.
The first day, the introduction to the camp includes what Dr. Dale Rollins, top quail expert of Texas and founder of RPBB, calls the “national anthem of quail”, Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd, because of the line,
“And this bird you cannot change.”
Since we can’t change the bird, we have to change the habitat to fit it’s needs, the cadets learned. These words carry through the camp, especially when they dive into anatomy, the next activity. The amount of knowledge thrown at them is astounding, but every cadet I’ve talked to after camp remembers these words.
Monday, a day spent almost entirely in the field, presented a choice. Stay at the lodge and potentially catch up on sleep or pick a covey to go with. Sleep was a very tempting factor, but in the end, I strapped on snake guards, covered myself in bug spray, and hopped in a truck with the Bobwhite Covey. This has always been a girl covey, and I belonged to it as a cadet, but this year it was the only co-ed covey in the history of the RPBB.
As we stopped at the bird dog demonstration, after chancing upon
4 white-tailed deer,
A pair of Greater Roadrunners,
1 Northern Mockingbird,
7 Lark Sparrows,
and a low-flying Turkey Vulture someone (not me) mistook for a hawk,
Rebekah, the ACL and one of my cadets when I was an ACL, announced “Alexandria’s a birdwatcher, so if you want to know anything about birds, just ask her.” Just then we heard “bob-bob-WHITE!” off in the distance. One cadet, who sounded just like Tow Mater in Cars, drawled. “I don’t need a birdwatcher to tell me that’s a quail!” We all laughed.
As I stood there, half listening to the instructors, half searching for birds, I felt a queer sensation. I’d never heard bobwhites at this station before, had I? Come to think of it, I’d never heard bobwhites period during my previous two camps, despite the fact there’s some excellent quail habitat! That was only the start of a glorious day.
The next station was habitat evaluation, where we heard several more bobwhites and even saw one perched in a low-growing mesquite, calling away (great birding moment: shared binos + answered questions = this girl is cool! Can you tell me more about birding?”) All through the day, we heard bobwhite, after bobwhite, even seeing a few more. We chased radio-collared quail (when you have long legs, can go fast, and know how to climb fences like a pro, you find yourself in a tiring position!), learned how different predators leave different eggshell evidence in nest deprivation (thank goodness we’re not quail!), and did sweep nets demonstrations (grasshoppers for your chicks?). Later, I found out while driving along Dr. Rollins found a quail calling in the ditch, made the “damsel in distress” call, and a male had come running out. Too bad I missed out on that! The statistics were 3-7 quail at each stop, and it made Dr. Rollins’ whole year. For the past six years, the land has been silent, no familiar whistles from bobwhites, but this year, they were going strong. I think it was quite a tribute to everyone, to hear so many quail. Perhaps they were saluting us!
All-in-all, I found it a different experience than my previous years. I liked the fact I could help more people, and got to share my love and knowledge of birding, quail, and conservation, but enjoyed working more closely with the cadets. Although I didn’t learn anything new (except a dance of all things!), I proved how dedicated I am to this camp and kept my name fresh in the minds of some of the top conservation people in Texas. I even got to meet a graphic designer and social media expert, who chatted with me about my chosen field of graphic and web design, which was very unexpected. And, at the end, I received a touching surprise (yes, I had tears in my eyes). I came to this camp, thinking I was doing it out of my love of Rolling Plains Bobwhite Brigade, it’s instructors, and it’s mission, and I received $200 which I put toward my higher education.
So, as just about everybody at this camp hopes, certainly all the instructors, Free Bird's first two lines will never come true; that we will have quail and never have to live by memories alone:
“If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?”
Happy Birding!
Alexandria
PS I’ll post some photos next week when I get them!
What is Bobwhite Brigade? Is it some kind of boot camp? In a nutshell, it’s a camp where quail conservation is taught alongside leadership and teambuilding skills. Marching is an activity that serves a few purposes: get kids up and moving in the morning, make them work together as a team, and teach them discipline. Although some people would argue Bobwhite Brigade and the rest of the Texas Brigades are boot camps, and at times they seem like one, this camp is just one amazing experience with no affiliation with the military.
I probably wasn’t marching those mornings; I was more likely filling water coolers for the twenty-two “cadets”, their four adult “covey” or group leaders, and four Assistant Covey Leaders (known as ACLs who were cadets last year and earned their way back). This year, I was a Special Agent, or, in other words, a well-worked, well-appreciated go-fer. Some of my duties included filling water coolers, helping set up activities, and acting as assistant to instructors. I was much higher on the totem pole, which equaled more privileges, but I missed being more involved with the coveys and the learning process.
As a behind-the-scenes staffer, I gained more insight on how the camp was run and appreciated more fully what the instructors had to deal with. I arrived Saturday morning, eager to be at camp, and after putting away my bags and greeting instructors and friends, was put to work setting up a display of Brigades shirts. As the day progressed, I figured out what was expected of me and threw myself into it. This camp is a “no-whining zone” and though you can complain in private, to your fellow Special Agents quietly, and to the trees, you’d better not whine to an instructor when they ask you to find another instructor and you have to go through all three buildings before you finally find her. Or when somebody tells you that the bathroom isn’t working properly and you have to talk to several people before you eventually discover somebody who can fix it. Not allowed. Luckily, I was eager to please and everybody from the cadets to the highest instructors knew if they brought me a problem, I would fix it, or find somebody to fix it. This was excellent for my reputation, but could be hard on the legs at times.
The first day, the introduction to the camp includes what Dr. Dale Rollins, top quail expert of Texas and founder of RPBB, calls the “national anthem of quail”, Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd, because of the line,
“And this bird you cannot change.”
Since we can’t change the bird, we have to change the habitat to fit it’s needs, the cadets learned. These words carry through the camp, especially when they dive into anatomy, the next activity. The amount of knowledge thrown at them is astounding, but every cadet I’ve talked to after camp remembers these words.
Monday, a day spent almost entirely in the field, presented a choice. Stay at the lodge and potentially catch up on sleep or pick a covey to go with. Sleep was a very tempting factor, but in the end, I strapped on snake guards, covered myself in bug spray, and hopped in a truck with the Bobwhite Covey. This has always been a girl covey, and I belonged to it as a cadet, but this year it was the only co-ed covey in the history of the RPBB.
As we stopped at the bird dog demonstration, after chancing upon
4 white-tailed deer,
A pair of Greater Roadrunners,
1 Northern Mockingbird,
7 Lark Sparrows,
and a low-flying Turkey Vulture someone (not me) mistook for a hawk,
Rebekah, the ACL and one of my cadets when I was an ACL, announced “Alexandria’s a birdwatcher, so if you want to know anything about birds, just ask her.” Just then we heard “bob-bob-WHITE!” off in the distance. One cadet, who sounded just like Tow Mater in Cars, drawled. “I don’t need a birdwatcher to tell me that’s a quail!” We all laughed.
As I stood there, half listening to the instructors, half searching for birds, I felt a queer sensation. I’d never heard bobwhites at this station before, had I? Come to think of it, I’d never heard bobwhites period during my previous two camps, despite the fact there’s some excellent quail habitat! That was only the start of a glorious day.
The next station was habitat evaluation, where we heard several more bobwhites and even saw one perched in a low-growing mesquite, calling away (great birding moment: shared binos + answered questions = this girl is cool! Can you tell me more about birding?”) All through the day, we heard bobwhite, after bobwhite, even seeing a few more. We chased radio-collared quail (when you have long legs, can go fast, and know how to climb fences like a pro, you find yourself in a tiring position!), learned how different predators leave different eggshell evidence in nest deprivation (thank goodness we’re not quail!), and did sweep nets demonstrations (grasshoppers for your chicks?). Later, I found out while driving along Dr. Rollins found a quail calling in the ditch, made the “damsel in distress” call, and a male had come running out. Too bad I missed out on that! The statistics were 3-7 quail at each stop, and it made Dr. Rollins’ whole year. For the past six years, the land has been silent, no familiar whistles from bobwhites, but this year, they were going strong. I think it was quite a tribute to everyone, to hear so many quail. Perhaps they were saluting us!
All-in-all, I found it a different experience than my previous years. I liked the fact I could help more people, and got to share my love and knowledge of birding, quail, and conservation, but enjoyed working more closely with the cadets. Although I didn’t learn anything new (except a dance of all things!), I proved how dedicated I am to this camp and kept my name fresh in the minds of some of the top conservation people in Texas. I even got to meet a graphic designer and social media expert, who chatted with me about my chosen field of graphic and web design, which was very unexpected. And, at the end, I received a touching surprise (yes, I had tears in my eyes). I came to this camp, thinking I was doing it out of my love of Rolling Plains Bobwhite Brigade, it’s instructors, and it’s mission, and I received $200 which I put toward my higher education.
So, as just about everybody at this camp hopes, certainly all the instructors, Free Bird's first two lines will never come true; that we will have quail and never have to live by memories alone:
“If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?”
Happy Birding!
Alexandria
PS I’ll post some photos next week when I get them!