Winter Texans!

A Gathering of Winter Texans on South Padre Island

Most people call them “Snowbirds” out West, that is retired folks, many with with RV’s, who flee cold(er) environs during the winter months and fly or haul off to friendly, sunny places; like Arizona for instance!  Arizona, particularly the area east of Phoenix (Mesa/Apache Junction) is filled with mega-RV resorts, hundreds of RV spaces for rent, many for a whole winter season; and, yes, Snowbirds are in great abundance in sunny Arizona throughout the winter months. 

But down here in Texas they do it, well, differently.  Right or wrong, Texans are, indeed, different/distinct, and damn proud of it; “Don’t Mess With Texas” is their official state slogan, I believe.  And “don’t mess” with calling those intrepid RV travelers seeking warmth in Winter months on the Texas Gulf Snowbirds;  No sir (or ma’am), down here they are “Winter Texans”.  Indeed, signs are everywhere on the Internet and posted in front of RV resorts proclaiming, “Welcome Winter Texans!”

For a short while, a week and a half actually, we became “Winter Texans” ourselves, first venturing from Hill Country (Fredericksburg KOA) all the way down some 360 miles to the very southernmost part of Texas near Brownsville, to a resort haven called South Padre Island right on the southern Texas Gulf.  We arrived there on the afternoon of Monday, January 13, our “cozy” little RV Park in reality a massive 500 space County Park called Isla Blanca.  It was a mini-city of Winter Texans all by itself…  30+ states and a  half dozen Canadian Provinces represented therein.   We check license plates wherever we park the 5^th Wheel as an inexpensive hobby; which, in Isla Blanca, also amounts to good exercise as it’s probably about a two or three mile hike to get around to all the RV spaces.

 Surprisingly enough, this monster RV park was a delightful, quiet retreat for a week.  It’s out in the middle of nowhere, for one, on a very small island, no road noise at all; and most of the folks here, during the winter months at least, are old far__, I mean genteel folk of the retired sort.  That is, they are not into throwing wild, loud, all night parties.  And RV spaces, at least in our section, were spaced far apart from each other, very long and very wide, an RV’rs dream.  We had a huge “backyard”, and side-yards, with our own cacti and grassy areas for garden scenery; in short it was one of the best RV sites for space and solitude we’d ever been in, while, somewhat paradoxically, also being the largest park, by far, we’ve ever frequented.  AND, it was only 200 yards or so removed from the long expanse of white sand beach.  I think we were in “Winter Texan Heaven!”  

Winter Texans for a week on South Padre Island

Our spacious backyard at Isla Blanca Park, S. Padre Isl.

Uncrowded beach - South Padre Island, TX

We, indeed, had a quite enjoyable week there, quality time on the beach, great seaside/seafood restaurants, all that good stuff.  One day we dined in a beachside café, and I had steamed mussels to start, capped by lobster tail, absolute “ fresh seafood heaven!”, for me at least… well, okay, the lobster was probably shipped in from Maine/New England, but still…..!

Beachside dining with Elaine

For starters, steamed mussels

My entree choice was lobster tail, from Maine, of course!

During that week so very far down South in Texas, we also saw border patrols everywhere.  Twice, we went through border checks where at least one agent eyed the stacked suitcases in the back seat of our Chevy and asked, “what do you have in the back of your truck? (“well, I can’t lie, they’re stuffed with dope and cocaine,  sir!”… NOT REALLY)... and then (his follow-up question),  "anybody riding back there (ie, in the trailer)?”… “No Sir, Absolutely NOT; I mean I wouldn't exactly call hiding under the bed riding, no Sir!”... or something like that.  Thankfully, I refrained from any actual smart ass responses, and we were cleared in each case, without further search, possibly including a sniffing drug dog,  to continue on; all part of the fun!

The next Monday, Jan. 20^th, we headed up the Texas Gulf Coast to another little island resort haven called Port Aransas, very near Corpus Christi.  Here we were yet again parked right on the gulf, albeit in a much smaller, private RV park called, appropriately enough, On the Beach RV Park.  Weather has been decent, not super warm (high 60’s to low 70’s), but hey, we ain’t complaining!

 

Home (almost) on the beach, Port Aransas, TX

Monday afternoon we dined harbor-side while our young waiter told us that those 30+ foot fishing/pleasure boats docked outside our windows were largely owned by “rick folks” (duh!) who largely rented out their boats to others (mostly rich types as well, no doubt) for upwards of several hundred dollars a day.  He also told us there was a waiting list several years long for such rentals.  Our waiter appeared perfectly sober and sane in telling us this; and who were we to question him?  Anyhow, there’s much more “money” here than we’ll ever see.

At the Private Boat Harbor, Port Aransas

You can also drive on the beach here.  Signs at beach access points indicate all Texas highway laws apply, with posted speeds and all that good stuff.  On principle, I’m not a fan of beach driving.  Environmentally, it just doesn’t seem like a good thing.  But I stretched my “principles” for just a brief 15 minutes or so (hey, everything’s negotiable, even your own principles) to drive the Big Chevy out on the beach the day before we left Port Aransas.  Here we are at land's end on Wednesday (Jan22).

A matter of compromised principles - But the Chevy demanded beach time!

We had planned to stay in Port Aransas through Thursday night, but the inclement weather that we’d been mostly dodging for nearly seven months now started closing in on Southeastern Texas (that would include Port Aransas) later in the week. So we high-tailed it outta there a day early, taking the most direct route possible to Louisiana, which in this case involved a quarter mile ferry ride across the channel separating the island from the mainland.  Our truck and trailer took up nearly one whole side of the small ferry. 
 

Hogging space on the Port Aransas to Aransas Pass Ferry

 The sea journey was smooth, and quick, on the shortest ferry route I’ve ever seen; and we were soon back on the mainland and chugging on to the heart of Cajun Country in Lafayette, Louisiana; where I guess, during our short stay there, we might have to call ourselves “Winter Cajuns”.

On the Road Again! (to Willie's Place?)

Luckenbach's business district!

Okay, we didn't find Willie, but we came damn close most probably, setting up the “gypsy wagon” (5^th Wheel Trailer) Saturday, afternoon, June 11^th in the Fredericksburg, Texas KOA on Ranch Road 1376 just three miles up that same road from Luckenbach.  I can just hear the two of them now ;   “Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas with Willie and Waylon and the boys!...”  

To get there from Tempe, AZ, our Holiday season “Home”, we had set off the day before headed  through Tucson and truckin on toward Las Cruces, New Mexico, our intended stopover point for the first night.  It was 380 miles away from Tempe; but we made really good time on the I10 freeway the whole way; and we pulled into one of the most scenic rest areas we’d ever seen, a 360 degree panoramic overlook of Las Cruces and the surrounding country, at NOON, with lots of good hauling time left on the day.  So, true to recent form, we blew off our reservation at the KOA in Las Cruces, called another KOA in the lonely little outpost of Van Horn, Texas further down I10 to make sure they had a space for us, then continued hauling.  By the time we pulled into Van Horn late in the afternoon, we’d covered 560 miles on the day, our longest single day haul since leaving Eugene back in late June.  We'd averaged around 65 mph, including diesel and meal stops; for us, hauling a 10,000 pound "gorilla" behind the Chevy, it was unprecedented speed on the open road! 

 It was just an overnight stay; good thing since there ain’t much in Van Horn, which is somewhere out in the middle of West Texas between El Paso (another forgettable place) and Fort Stockton (another... never mind!).  The KOA might have been the prettiest place in Van Horn; it was a nice, clean park, though nothing special.  But it was “home” for the night, and we headed off in the dark of early morning for Fredericksburg.

Two surprises awaited us on arrival in Texas Hill Country, one a pleasant one, the other not so much a pleasant thing.  First the good (pleasant) stuff; our KOA was right next door to a winery tasting room for Rancho Ponte vineyards.  We knew nothing about the winery; you know, what kind of wines they had… all that good stuff regular wine snobs should know ahead of time… but, not being wine snobs, we soon headed to the wine tasting; surprised to learn that they had pretty darn good, bold tasting Reds, our favorite kind.   An hour later, we stag… I mean walked crisply, if carefully... out of the room with a half case of Reds, and weaved our way back to our very convenient “home” for the next couple of days. 

Now, to the unpleasant surprise, which we’d actually dealt with for the most part before partaking of the good Vinho Tinto.  In Van Horn the previous evening I’d noticed one of the four tires on our 5^th Wheel had tread worn down on both edges, a clear sign of running on an under-inflated tire (I learned that tire fact via a Google Search, of course).  The other 3 tires looked fine; the worn one looked just slightly less inflated than the others.  I considered our options just briefly:  1) stay over longer in lonely Van Horn and try to swap out the worn tire for the spare; or 2) keep on truckin’, and deal with it later.   I chose the latter, and we headed off that morning after stopping at a service station and adding air to the under-inflated tire.  

 Things went well, the tire held up, that is it didn’t blow out at 75 mph on the freeway, and we made it safely to the Fredericksburg KOA, only to discover, after checking in, that our previously slightly under-inflated tire was suddenly deflating in a hurry; I could now hear precious air seeping out, rapidly!.  We had a flat!  We'd made it to our stopover point for the day just in time! We’ll deal with it tomorrow (Monday) morning before we head out of town.  Right now, our “Gypsy Wagon” is a 3-legged animal (see below).

Not going anywhere far with this "Flat" baby!

Now back to Luckenbach.  We headed there today, Sunday (Jan 12^th).  We’d been there before; it hasn’t grown any since our last visit a few years ago; still the quaint, very tiny little place Willie and Waylon sang into history.  They have live music  in Luckenbach every day of the week.  We were going to listen to some local pickers and singers this afternoon; but a whole lot of “bikers” were already there by the time we arrived and space was limited; so we decided to just buy a few T-shirts and a couple CD’s of Texas Honky Tonk music (skipping the live music), and head back to camp. 

The lineup in front of Luckenbach Dance Hall

 Besides, neither Willie nor Waylon were anywhere in sight;  Waylon’s been parked underground in a Mesa, Arizona cemetery for some ten years... we visited him last year during a trip to Arizona;  Willie may have been up in Colorado trying to buy some LEGAL Pakalolo… or maybe not! That's just idle, unsubstantiated, speculation... mine!  Little matter, it was a fun visit even without the famous duo.

And then it was on to downtown Fredericksburg for some good German food.  The town was founded by German immigrants way back when, and retains still a very distinct German flavor.  At our restaurant, “der Lindenbaum”, we were served by a waitress with a quite heavy German accent; and, of course, we ordered traditional German fare, mine Sauerbraten washed down with a Bitburger German Pilsener.  All things German, it seems, and quite good!

Sauerbraten mit noodles und red cabbage - "bitte ein Bit", to wash it all down.

 Pardon the fractured German, bitte!

Tomorrow, once we have four good, properly inflated, tires under the GypsyWagon, we’re off to South Padre Island on the southern Texas Gulf.

Gone to Arizona!

Casa Grande Ruins, Arizona, dating to ca 1350

Thanksgiving in Colorado was over, we'd celebrated Xmas early with the Kids and grandson, Jonah, before they all headed off to Florida to further celebrate with Drew's family; and soon we were off to Arizona.  We left on a Monday (Dec 16th) expecting it might take three days, depending on weather.  Fortunately the frigid weather that had gripped Colorado, and much of the rest of the country, earlier in December, had stabilized and warmed up.  We made good time down dry freeways, going 500 miles the first day before stopping at a KOA in North Albuquerque, New Mexico; 500 miles to go.  We took care of that the next day, Tuesday, 2 days, 1,000 miles. 


It was kind of strange going through Flagstaff, Arizona, which sits above 6,000 feet elevation, finding several inches of snow on the ground from the recent winter storm, and driving for another thirty miles down through the mountains of Northern Arizona, with snow still on the ground (but, thankfully, not on the freeway) until suddenly emerging into the great Phoenix Valley, greeted there by 80 degree temperatures.  We soon had the truck air conditioner turned on for the first time in, like, seemingly forever.  And, other than a thunderstorm that very first night, the weather was great the whole three and a half weeks we spent in Arizona, daytime temps in the high 60's to low 70's, clear blue skies, cooling down to the 40's overnight; perfect, especially for January!  Early on we also discovered that we had marvelous sunsets to watch on the Western horizon from our  Tempe "home."

Our "home" was a quiet little park, Tempe Travel Trailer Villa, on East Apache Blvd near ASU, AND, most importantly, youngest daughter, Emily.  Emily is in her first year as an English teacher at Chandler High School, but was on Holiday break; so, just as we had with Sara and Drew in Colorado, we were able to spend a whole lot of quality time with her.  On Christmas Eve the three of us headed out to nearby Papago Park and the Phoenix Zoo for "Zoo Lights".  It was a spectacular light show set in and among the zoo exhibits, well worth the price of admission.

We had a nice, small Xmas gathering of three in the 5th wheel and caught up with many of our favored restaurants during our stay.  One of those was breakfast at the Farm at South Mountain, a unique dining experience, particularly outdoors in early January.

Elaine and Emily at the "Farm"

Breakfast on the outdoor terrace, Tempe, AZ, January 2014

 Before that Elaine and I had spent a quiet New Years eve in the 5th wheel, as usual going to sleep well before the "Ball fell in Times Square".  The Kid (Emily) went partying! And the next day, while we stayed near the trailer, she drug herself up Camelback Mountain, a favorite, fairly rigorous, hike in the Valley, with several friends.

New Years morning on top of Camelback, Emily kneeling at front, Pat and Elaine still back at the trailer

 The days passed quickly, and Emily was getting set to head back to her classroom, by the time we got ready to head to Texas and beyond during the second week in January.  Before leaving, we briefly adopted Homer, a wild pigeon who had a wounded wing; I think he might have taken a BB, or pellet, to the shoulder.  I found him quite suddenly fluttering in the dirt in back of our 5th Wheel.  I thought he was mortally wounded, but he surprised me by scrambling to his feet, and walking a few feet away quite alertly, when I approached him.  But he obviously couldn't fly, and stayed behind our trailer most of the day. I tried to get help... really I did... but by the time I finally connected, via phone, with a very understanding young woman who worked with local Bird Relief agencies in rehabilitation  and actually welcomed the chance to help a mere pigeon (a lot of folks wouldn't take on the "common pigeon", preferring instead to deal with hawks, eagles and such, the elite "upper 2% of the bird population"), Homer had walked away on his own accord, destination unknown to this day.

Homer, wounded warrior... one of the 98%

Homer had appeared, however briefly, in our lives the day before we headed out of town.  On Friday, Dec. 10th, like Homer, we were out of there, headed South for Texas and ultimately Florida.  We had greatly enjoyed our Tempe home and, most especially, all the quality time with Emily.  And we'll be back, eventually!

Our Home in Tempe, AZ