Mission TX keeps callin' me back

I’m back at the Mission campground for the third time, but since it’s been so long since I updated the blog, I’ll try to catch up in chronological order since this will be pretty long. I'll be adding some pictures soon, but wanted to get this posted now.

Feb. 7 Leaving the Valley
After spending a few nice quiet days at Mission Gardens, I said goodbye to all my new friends with promises to renew those friendships next year, then headed north on Hwy 281. The highway changes personality completely between the Rio Grande Valley and the ranch country to the north. Down in the valley there are palm trees in the median, then about 20 miles later mesquite trees start appearing along with the palms. The ratio of palms to mesquite gradually changes in favor of the mesquite for the next 20 miles, then becomes all mesquite. The other interesting thing was the road kill. In Minnesota, we’re used to seeing deer by the side of the road, but down here I’ve seen more dead coyotes than I ever saw deer in the same distance.

Along the way, I saw a caravan of riders on horseback and covered wagons pulled by mules. They were escorted along the highway by state troopers, and were playing and singing cowboy songs. If you travel north from the Valley, you have two possible routes: Hwy 281 or Hwy. 77. If you’re in a hurry, 77 is the best as there are fewer towns and some of those are bypassed. If you have more time, I highly recommend 281. It’s more interesting and has more history and personality. That’s just my opinion, of course.

I wanted to tour the King Ranch, but got there after the last tour of the day had departed. The ranch is 825,000 acres, an area bigger than the state of Rhode Island. Oh well, something to look forward to next year.

I arrived back in Port Aransas and got to take the dogs on one more beach walk. Pacer seems to revert back to her youth when her feet hit the sand, and the rest of us love it, too. After settling in at the County Park by the beach, I was picked up by Sam and Alice and we had a great visit at a local restaurant. That night I slept about 50 yards from the water’s edge and the sound of the surf was constant and LOUD! I woke up several times during the night and thought the noise was coming from a motor somewhere in the RV.

Feb.8 – Feb. 12 Traveling with Sally and Ron
After waking up in the morning to the sound of the surf, I took the ferry across to the mainland and headed north. I stopped again in Rockport and walked the same path along the wharfs that I did on my way south. I took the secondary road along the gulf before finally joining the traffic heading to Houston, where I met up with Sally and Ron at their friends’ house. We spent the night “camping” in the driveway, then headed to the big RV show at the Astrodome. I looked at some of the new RVs, dreaming of what could be and realizing that what already is, is not so bad. We spent that night at a campground in Katy, TX, where I managed to get attacked by chiggers, who decorated my legs with scores of VERY irritating bites. The intense itching lasted for three days, and only Benadryl lotion allowed me to get some sleep. There’s the silver lining for you Minnesotans suffering through the cold and snow: No bugs in the winter!

We traveled the next three days, stopping at several very interesting places, including Cabela’s, Bass Pro, a salsa factory, and a glass-blowing plant. We camped one night in the McKinney Falls State Park in Austin, where we were welcomed at the gate by a herd of deer, who just stood and watched us as we passed by.

During this stage of our journey I received very bad news from home: My daughter Shar’s mother-in-law passed away after a 15-month battle with lung cancer. I wish I could have been home to help the family through this difficult time, but you can never plan for something like this. My thoughts are with all of them, though, and I can’t wait to hug my grandchildren. One doesn’t realize how much those hugs mean until you don’t get them.

Feb. 13 – Feb. 14 In Cowboy Country
I had been told that the Hill Country was different than the Rio Grande Valley in that the Valley is very influenced by its proximity to Mexico and the very large number of Mexicans living and working there. The Hill Country on the other hand is what most Americans think of when they think of Texas. Lots of mesquite, tumbleweeds, and ranches. However, there’s also a large German influence there. We spent an afternoon in Fredericksburg, visiting the Veriens Kirche Museum, a reconstructed hexagon-shaped one-room church built in the mid-1800s, and having lunch at an authentic German restaurant. The food was pretty much what I remember having in Germany. I won’t comment beyond that.

Even though it’s one of those places that you have to experience yourself, I have to try and describe one of our stops – Luckenbach, TX. It’s not really a town…the sign says Population 3, but the locals say there is really only one person still in residence. We didn’t see any houses, though, so I’m not sure where the resident lives. The “town” consists of two buildings (plus a couple outbuildings). One is the dance hall, which was not in use when we were there. It’s one large room with a stage, large dance floor, and lots of wooden tables and benches. The other building really defies description, but I’ve never let that stop me. It’s labeled the Post Office, but hasn’t been one for years. The whole building isn’t more than about 20 feet by 50 feet, divided into two rooms. The front is a haphazard collection of souvenirs…thousands of them from bottle openers to guitars. It’s looked after by a real authentic-looking old cowboy, who told us stories about the town and its history. The back of the building is the bar, but not like any bar you’ve seen elsewhere. The atmosphere is so casual that the bartender walks around with the customers and checks occasionally to see if anyone wants another beer. There is one table, at which the guys with guitars sit while jamming with old CW tunes. Everyone else either stands around or sits on the long benches along the walls. Hanging from the ceiling are hundreds of hats contributed by visitors. We were given permission to spend the night in the parking lot and I awoke the next day to a flock of chickens walking around the van, cats chasing something I thankfully couldn’t see, and absolutely no other people except Sally and Ron. Luckenbach was quite a unique experience and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything!

The next day we made the visit to Fredericksburg that I mentioned earlier, then went on to a campground near Bourne (pronounced Bernie). The temperature had been falling all day and the next morning was bitterly cold. (No comments, northerners.) The forecast for the next night was for a low of 28 degrees and the following night 22 degrees. I decided I really needed to go back down to the Valley, since the alternative was to drain my water tanks and blow out the pipes. Also, it was too cold to let the dogs sit outside, and we’d all have cabin fever before long. So I bailed and made the 270-mile trip back to Mission. I’ve renewed those friendships a few months earlier than I thought I would, and it’s nice to be back in the relative warmth. (Even though they’re talking about a possible dip below freezing tonight.)

Well, I’m finally up to date and hope to keep this more current from now on! Either that or not have anything worth reporting for a few days…