Davis Bayou

March 25-30, 2024

This trip is somewhat unpredictable. Unpredictable is a word that I could use to describe much of my travel, on roads and throughout my life. In several ways, I like that. It is good to be flexible, to entertain new thoughts and opportunities. In this case, I think having Covid moved my current adventure towards places I had not planned to visit. One of these places is Davis Bayou Campground. It is a part of Gulf Islands National Seashore, with this section being in Mississippi, just outside of Ocean Springs.

I have arrived here just after spending two great weeks at the other campground in Gulf Islands, Fort Pickens, which is just outside of Pensacola Beach, Florida. Fort Pickens is on a long, thin barrier island. The park has eight miles of beach right on the Gulf of Mexico. Here at Davis Bayou, there are no beaches. Davis Bayou is on the mainland, which is protected by a series of barrier islands offshore. They can be visited by arranging a boat ride. I did not do that, opting to enjoy that which presented itself in the campground area. I found myself easily and happily occupied in this way. I did not expect it to be like Fort Pickens, but I hoped to be able to take interesting long walks and do my normal lengthy bike rides.

My initial assessment of Davis Bayou was it less favorable than Fort Pickens. One of the advertised attractions of Ocean City was a fifteen-mile Live Oak Bike Trail. I envisioned, perhaps idealistically, a wonderful, natural feeling through a Live Oak Forest environment. It was not the case. It turned out to be a route mapped out completely on town roads. It was marked with infrequent signs calling it a trail. The road had no bike lanes. In some places there was no shoulder at all as it went through downtown commercial areas. It seemed more like a plan by the Chamber of Commerce to bring cyclists to town. I did the route one day, and that was enough. Good news though, I was able to make a six-mile loop within the park boundaries that did have bike lanes for much of it, and there was very little traffic. So, it turned out great! I did about 185 miles in my six days here.

For “hiking,” there weren’t many trails, and there was nothing of significant length. All of the trails were in the half mile or less range, so I did my walking on the park roads, back and forth to the pier area, the boat launch, and the visitor center.

One interesting and rewarding walk here was a trek one evening down to the fishing pier. The pier reaches out into the As I approached, I could see a big bird on the pier. I realized as I came closer it was a Blue Heron. He was just standing there on one leg, seemingly unfazed by my presence. I was talking to it quietly and internally as I stepped closer and closer and closer, hoping he was not startled, and he would let me take some good photos. I came within about 20-25 feet when he made some sounds that were, in my mind, saying close enough. So I stood there, took photos, and thanked him.

I did an afternoon drive to the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge. It is only about twelve miles from Davis Bayou. It was interesting and educational, The Visitor Center staffed by enthusiastic volunteers. I did a one-mile hike through tall pines and grasslands. The refuge has about 20,000 acres. They called it a particular pine-savannah environment that was necessary for the cranes. Their habitat has been drastically reduced over the years, as has their population numbers. It was as low as 35 members in the 1960s-1970s, until some activism by local residents resulted in establishment of the Refuge, which was accompanied by specific steps in managing the remaining birds. These Mississippi Sandhills are one of six species of cranes. Three of the species do not migrate, three do migrate. Mississippi Sandhills do not, they are permanent residents of the area, “rarely seen outside of the county,” I was told. There are now about 175 Mississippi Sandhills living in the Refuge.

I met several people while out walking in the campground at Davis Bayou. One woman was Jan, who was out walking her dog the first morning I was there. I asked her how her dog likes camping. Jan said her dog, Lucy, loves to go camping. At home, once she or her husband somehow engage with the camper, such as moving suitcases into it, Lucy follows, and it is hard to coax her out of the Rialto. The Rialto is the camper they have. Rialtos are Winnebago units with a VW nose, engine, drive train, and chassis, all similar to the VW Eurovan. The front of the body expands into a wider and taller one-piece streamlined body. When they are packing for a trip, Jan says Lucy knows. She hops into the Rialto and does not want to leave. She’s always ready to go. So, what are dogs thinking about when they see their humans getting ready for a trip? The dogs know. They know something is up. The recognize signals. Suitcases, backpacks, and other camping or RVing gear all means something to the pets. They are so smart. 

Lucy sat patiently while Jan and I talked for about ten minutes. She and her husband are part of a Rialto club. There are six Rialtos here in the campground. I had counted a few last night, as I walked around the campground, thinking it unusual to have so many on one place. Jan told me she thinks they stopped making Rialtos in 1998. I looked into that and learned they stopped in 2005. She said she and her husband on their last leg with camping. I asked her if she meant because of the age of the camper. She said yes, and also due to their own age, her and her husband. They are in their early 80s. “We used to be backpackers and tenters, all our lives, so many years.” She pensively went on to say that medical issues and the realities of aging are playing a significant role in their lives. They may be near the end of this lifestyle. She talked about camping with their kids, smiling as she reminisced on what must have been wonderful times. Their grandkids, five and six years old, will be joining them soon for some overnights. It will be the first time the grandkids have tent-camped. She isn’t sure how it will go, thinking they might not like it.

Another woman I talked with was a recent college graduate from upper NY state. She said she has been living in a little house in the park since October, while doing an internship studying invasive plant species along the coast. She described it as a learning activity, one that might help her figure out what she wanted to do after finishing school. I asked her if it had done so, helped her figure it out? She did not answer directly. Instead, she told me the next step, which was traveling to Wyoming for spring and summer to study a nuisance beetle species. I think she is still in the “wondering about what to do after college” phase. She seemed quite happy about heading to Wyoming. I went through such “wondering” (and wandering) phase, multiple times, as I started and stopped my undergrad college education three times. I told her what she was doing was fantastic.

A camper next to me was from Kansas. He was there with his wife and their dog, Roxie. I talked with Lee a few times. He walked Roxie often. I did not meet his wife. He told me they were on probably their final road trip, as medical issues with his wife seemed to preclude further adventures of this kind. He said they were doing a circuit they had done before, one that was their favorite, and they were having a good time talking about their travels over the years. I was happy to hear him talk that way, with a positive mindset.

Everyone has a story. Listen to it. Ask open ended questions, then listen in an engaging manner. It’s a gift you give to others. This is real, not a dress rehearsal. 😊