Everything but the Pizza Delivery

And now we’re at North Padre National Lakeshore, east of Corpus Christi, campsite #6, oceanside at Malaquite Campground, facing east, overlooking the Gulf. The surf rolls and the sun shines once it burns through the morning fog. We reserved 4 nights here.

North Padre – an exercise in getting used to no power and no cell service. Our solar panels keep our batteries charged, and by the end of our first day, Michael had wired the inverter to the battery in an outside storage compartment and had run a cord inside the Siesta, so I could plug in my phone! He also ran a wire from the rooftop Wilson booster antenna to inside, so we have more cell service than we have without the booster (which is none.) So, keep that guy around and you’ll have all the amenities of urban America even when you’re off – grid (except maybe pizza delivery!)

My first morning walk on the island was white. Since the evening before, we were encased in fog. White air, whitish sand, white surf: a tunnel of whiteness. Down the beach I talked with a woman who was driving a pick-up truck on the beach. Every so often her wader-clad coworker would get out and walk out into the surf to get a water temperature. 48 degrees that day. They were working with The Aquarium in Corpus Christie as well as Sea World to release immature green sea turtles. The turtles had been picked up by boats since this cold spell set in. The cold water temperature had forced the turtles close to shore. When their bodies get too cold, they constrict and then sink and die. Rescuers brought the turtles to indoor aquariums and now will release them as soon as the water temperature rises into the 50s.

Saturday morning, after the government shut down Friday night, a ranger set out a sign by the campground bathroom which read, “This facility is officially closed.” However, the bathroom doors were left open and business was carried on as usual.  Campers were allowed to stay on and not much changed, really. Then Sunday morning two park employees came by and screwed boards across the bathroom and shower doors AND turned off the water! This caused quite a stir among the campers. The campground hosts were particularly upset that the water was off. There was a bit of a rebellious spirit that ran through the campground it seemed to me, a sort of disbelief and dismay at the ruthlessness of the National Park Service.

So, a couple of hours later, the water was restored by the park employees so campers could get water from the outside faucet.

And a couple of hours after that a certain someone with an electric drill backed 8 screws out of two boards and “freed” the bathrooms.  That certain someone had his photo taken with a campsite “Occupied” sign, as in “Occupy North Padre!” The other someone in the photo is our neighbor who camped next to us in a bright blue whimsically painted school bus lovingly named O.A.H.H – Old Age Home for Hippies. Power to the people!

Sea Rim Ice Day

We didn’t arrive at Sea Rim State Park south of Port Arthur, Texas, until 5:30 pm on a Monday evening. The park ranger was just leaving for the day, but she stopped to tell us to take a campsite and pay at the office in the morning at 8:30. There were several of the 15 camp sites still available. We snagged one and had just enough daylight for a walk. Texas allows dogs on beaches and a walk on this wide flat beach was just what Nina had in mind.

And here’s an entry from my journal two days later, Wednesday morning:

“What is the matter with this weather? We’re parked 100 yards from the Gulf at Sea Rim State Park in eastern Texas and this morning the outdoor temperature is 20 degrees!! WTH? Yesterday we hunkered down in the Siesta for the day while the wind rocked our ship, gusting to 28 mph. The temperature fell throughout the day, from 47 degrees in the morning to 32 which is when the intermittent rain turned to sleet and covered the side of the Mini with ice. A winter storm in Texas!! It was an inside recess kind of day.  We read, I put together a blog post, made lentil soup, and we watched the weather on TV. In the afternoon, I tried walking on the park’s nature trail – a boardwalk that runs through the Gulf’s back water.  On a calm day I bet there’s all kinds of waterfowl hanging out in the marsh, but today, after the ½ mile walk over to the boardwalk in the nasty cold 32-degree wind, I wasn’t all that disappointed that the boardwalk was too icy to venture across. Schools are still closed today, and advisories were out last night to stay off the roads.”

Well, we did leave later Wednesday, around noon. Our next stop was going to be Galveston Island southeast of Houston. According to Google maps there were still ramp and road closures in the Houston area, however, the coastal road, Hwy 87, which would take us to the Texas Dept. of Transportation ferry from Part Bolivar on the Bolivar Peninsula to Galveston Island looked open and “red free.” That’s what we did. In a little more than 2 hours we were checking into a camp site at Galveston State Park.

Before leaving Sea Rim, though, we drove just up the road to McFadden National Wildlife Refuge, a paved road running around Clam Lake with coastal marshland on one side and the lake on the other. Oh, the egrets and herons and ducks and cormorants, the coots, white ibis and white-faced ibises, plus ospreys and two roseate spoonbills, all hiding out in the reeds out of the cold wind.  There were a few patches of ice on the road and some of the small back water inlets were skinned with ice. What a lovely way to spend a cold morning as the temperature began climbing up to 40 in the bright sunshine.

In the Boot

On the sole of the Boot – the boot of Louisiana, that is. That’s where Palmetto Island State Park sits three hours or so west of Grand Isle with a whole lot of watery, marshy, reedy bayou in between. And don’t forget bridges! This part of the country must be a bridge engineer’s toy box with islands to connect, marshes and inlets to traverse, rivers and the Intercoastal Waterway to span.

Palmetto Island State Park, near Abbeville, is in the midst of live oaks and palmettos with a surprisingly northern woodsy feel, especially with the campfires going at several of the campsites and the filtered sunlight shining through the trees. The temperature also may have had something to do with it. Long sleeves and fleeces have been our wardrobe since we left Florida. There was a touch of frost on the Mini in the morning.

After arriving at the park, we walked around LaFleur Lake, one of three small inland lakes here. It’s a lovely peaceful little lake with its perfectly calm water making perfect reflections. However, on the far side, near one of the unoccupied backpacking campsites we walked past, we heard a low loud growl.  We stopped. And then we heard it again. And then we did an about face and walked quickly away from campsite #4. It sure sounded like a bear growl and we weren’t sticking around to find out if it was. When Michael told the park’s host about the incident, she told him 2 bear cubs had been seen recently, but not the mama bear. And on the message board by the bathroom, a sign reads, “This Is Bear Country.”

After leaving Palmetto Island State Park, we really drove along Louisiana’s coast, on two-lane highway 82 across the boot’s heel, where land and water intermingle for miles before becoming just land. Here, where there isn’t water or marsh, there’s grassland. The area’s main occupations appear to be cattle raising, shrimp fishing and crab potting.

                                            

And then we came upon Cameron National Wildlife Refuge in the southwest corner of LA across Sabine Lake from Port Arthur, Texas. We drove the dirt Pintail Loop ever so slowly, marveling at the hundreds of mallards, moorhens, coots, the white ibises and white-faced ibises, great blue heron and egrets. Oh, and two mostly hidden resting alligators. We didn’t feed them.

To the End and Back

Grand Isle State Park, LA

West of New Orleans, take Hwy 90 to Raceland. Turn south on Hwy 1 and drive about 60 miles, until you run out of land. And then there’s one more piece of land – an island - connected by bridge to the mainland. Cross the bridge and there you are at Grand Isle, at the tip of one of several bayou “peninsulas” jutting out into the Gulf. There we found Grand Isle State Park. Standing on its beach I felt a little like I did when we visited the coast of Newfoundland – at the edge of the world, standing in awe before a very large body of water.

Grand Isle State Park is a small campground with a large beach area which, I’m sure, on a warm spring day is enjoyed by many locals and visitors. The January day we were there, in 40-some degree weather – we had the beach to ourselves.

The quaint town of Grand Isle likewise is probably humming with activity during the summer with vacationing guests and seasonal transplants enjoying the nearby local beaches and the water views on either side of the island. The town, made up of one main thoroughfare and several streets of colorful houses on stilts, was mostly quiet and closed the day we drove through it. However, the few stray strands of Mardi Gras beads at the street’s edge indicated perhaps a recent parade and some festive revelry. And the cars parked outside the bar and grill on a Sunday afternoon showed there were at least a few locals who toughed out the cool windy weather of winter.

Land of many bridges

A few of the names on closed-up houses in Grand Isle, LA: Sweet Sue, Serenity, La Bon Vie, Worth the Wait, Nothing Fancy, Ruff Cs, Big Easy, Six Pack, Law and Disorder.

It’s a great area for birding. The mainland near Grand Isle is that bayou mix of watery, reedy, marshy land, where there’s no real distinction between water and land. There’s water in the ditches, water in marshes and open water areas. Sea birds are everywhere – in quantities I had never imagined. Three types of herons, egrets, brown and American pelicans, roseate spoonbills, ruddy turnstones, herring gulls, and willets, to name a few.

The Real Florida?

 

If you’re camping and looking for a place to spend the night in Florida’s panhandle, go with a state park. We stayed in three as we headed west to Alabama and beyond and each one was worth revisiting.

After Withlacoochee State Forest, we drove just a couple of hours north to Rainbow Springs State Park near Dunnellon.  The entrance to the springs is north of Dunnellon, but the campground entrance is a few miles east of that, directly behind the springs, but not accessible from the Springs, unless you’re in a kayak.

St. George Island

Rainbow Springs is a pleasant classy campground, with lovely palmetto and shrub plantings bordering each of the 60 spacious sites, offering lots of privacy at each one.  The Rainbow River with its canoe/kayak launch is walking-accessible from the campground.  Rainbow Springs State Park is also a sleepy campground.  People seemed encamped there for days, maybe weeks or months. Not much activity, not much noise.

The next day we drove north and then west across part of the panhandle to St. George Island State Park near Apalachicola. On the way we drove out to Econfina River State Park for a picnic lunch. This quiet river runs into the Gulf and the park land is right at its mouth. There’s a boat launch and a fishing dock and a few picnic tables. It was a beautifully sunny warm afternoon, so we lingered over our sandwiches and then some ball tossing for Nina. And then we spotted the alligator! Sunning itself on a spit of land just a skip across the river. I think it was looking right at us!

Further west, at Eastpoint, we drove across the 4-mile bridge to St. George Island. The island is 28 miles long and one mile wide at its widest point.  The St. George State Park occupies the island’s eastern 9 miles and is a popular spot so best to make a reservation. Access to the beach is across the road from the campground entrance. Our morning beach walk was cool, a bit misty and foggy, but oh so pleasant, walking with the surf crashing, perusing the plethora of shells strewn across the pure white sand. Lots of starfish and sea worms of some kind, urchins, all sizes of clam shells and broken sand dollars. We found a few we just had to keep.

Nights 3 and 4 on the panhandle were spent in Destin, Florida. Henderson Beach State Park is an unexpectedly quiet oasis amid Destin’s box shops, hotels and strip malls. As at Rainbow Beach, the 60 sites are unusually spacious and private, enclosed by lush Florida vegetation.  Behind the new shower building in our campsite loop was a cement walkway through the palmetto-sand pine “forest” that leads to a snazzy boardwalk extending out over the sand dunes to the white sand beach. Surprisingly, there are high-rise hotels on either side of the state park property.  So coming out of the nature trail onto the boardwalk in view of the beachfront, it is startling  - to see just how close this secluded -feeling property is to the ‘real’ world.

Interestingly, the signpost as you enter Henderson Beach State Park says, “Welcome to the Real Florida.”

Fogged in at Henderson Beach

A Tree State of Mind

 

It was just what the doctor ordered. The peace of the long pine forest in mid-Florida’s interior. Unpopulated. No lines.  No traffic back-ups. Plenty of seats for those attending.

Here’s what I wrote in my journal the day we left Anna Maria Island:

“We left AMI about 9:30 Saturday morning, packed into the Chicken Nugget, Lillian and Bobby strapped into booster seats at the dinette.  By 11:00 we were circling Tampa International Airport. We first said good-bye to Annie at the Delta drop-off, and then said good-bye to the Fox’s at the Red Terminal.

 And there we were – childless, family vacation behind us, on the road driving north, late morning. Oh, the quiet, oh, the fatigue, oh the letdown of time passing and moving on.  The last two weeks have been a bit of a blur – Mom dying, packing hurriedly, driving to Iowa in 6 degree weather, saying good-bye to Mom, spending time with family, the fast, long drive to Florida and then that week-long memorable family vacation on AMI.

Evidence of the cockaded 

woodpecker??

Long pine trees

So we drove all of 40 miles northeast of Tampa to Withlacoochee State Forest where we stayed at Cypress Glen Campground.  You’ll find it at the end of a hard packed dirt road. The campground is old and rustic-like but with electric and water hook-ups.  It was just what we needed – quiet and remote in the cypressy, swampy, long pine forest. This is where the red-cockaded woodpecker lives. That’s because red-cockaded woodpeckers only nest in long pine trees and since 97% of long pine forests have disappeared due to human activity, the bird was one of the first species to go on the Endangered Animal Act of 1973. Did I see one? Possibly. There are also downy, hairy, red headed, red bellied and pileated woodpeckers living in that neck of the woods. Sooo… what I did pick up with my binoculars while tree scanning was a smallish black and white woodpecker type bird hopping up a tree. Could I make a certain ID? No. But I’ve seen many downies and hairies, and this bird was not one of them, nor was it any of the other very recognizable woodpeckers that might be present. However, this bird was alone, as far as I could tell. And I found out in reading about it that it is a bird that lives in clans of 7 – 9 birds, so most often there would be more than one pecking for food in an area, and talking back and forth. I will continue my search for the elusive cockaded woodpecker.”

One more thing about that Saturday. Since it was really our first night out sleeping in the Siesta, we had some housekeeping to do.  Storage is always an issue, maybe THE issue, when one is driving one’s home around the country.  At first look, I thought the Siesta would fall short of the Pickle’s spacious overhead cupboards and under-couch drawers Michael added last year.  I’m glad to report the bags of ‘stuff’ we had hurriedly stashed in the shower before we left for Iowa found places behind cupboard doors and under the dinette cushions – with room to spare!

I am so thankful for state parks and state forests, as well as the national park system, that provide sanctuaries – for endangered woodpeckers and for us, too. The silence and space of the Withlacoochee Forest lulled us into that trouble-free, serene state of mind we needed. Deep breath.

 

The bombogenesis that crippled the northeastern United States last week began with unusually cold temperatures, ice and snowfall as far south as Tallahassee, FL. We didn’t see snow on Anna Maria Island, but the four days of colder-than-normal temps there turned what we thought would be our winter beach vacation into an adventure of creative indoor play (uhh… we’re talking 6 and 3-year-old play here.) Add to that a rather benign but nonetheless invasive stomach flu bug to round out our fun family Florida fling. 

Nice house, though, we had rented last April with its 4 big bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and 3 spacious floors, with lots of closets, the better to play hide-and-seek.  And there was plenty of room in the dining room to play “Airplane Ride” using all the chairs and stools.

It was a Rankin – Schultz reunion of sorts. My sister Harriet and her family and our family, with our focus, of course on the 4 grandchildren: two 6 ½ year old girls, Alannah and Lillian, and two 3 ½ year old boys, Elliott and Bobby.

The week began on a high note – sunshine and blue sky as we arrived on the island. Once the beds were divvied up and the luggage brought in, the kids excitedly tried out the heated pool. I think we even had to apply sunscreen! Ditto the next day when the temperature rose to 67, the sun shone, and we spent a good part of the day building sand castles and digging holes on the beautiful AMI beach a block from our house.

And then – Happy New Year! The cold and rain set in …. and lasted, for the next four days! Temperatures like 45, 42, 39 took over and a common comment heard among us was, “Well, it’s warmer than Michigan.” A pretty flimsy justification for our bad luck.

Thank goodness for the free trolley that runs up and down Gulf Drive. The kids loved that. It took us to the Donut Experiment one morning for choose-your-own-donut-toppings and the SandBar Restaurant one evening for seafood dinners. Another day we drove into Bradenton to the South Florida Museum, home of a manatee rehabilitation aquarium as well as interesting displays explaining South Florida’s natural history. Thursday was the beginning of a warming trend. The sun tried to shine, and Annie and I checked out Robinson Nature Preserve in Bradenton. We walked the 3 mile loop and saw wood storks, anhinga and kingfishers as well as various egrets and herons.

Grandpa in the swivel chair

The flu bug? Well, at least it got just one of us at a time, and it didn’t last too much more than 24 hours for any of us. Michael, Annie, Joe and Lillian survived the week without succumbing. They get the way-to-hang-in-there awards.

By Saturday the 6^th we had all dispersed – Rankins and Ross’s back to Knoxville, Fox’s to Ann Arbor, Annie to Sacramento, and Michael & I off in the Siesta to Withlacoochee State Forest 40 miles northeast of Tampa. It’s warmer now. Today was a beautifully sunny 65 and tomorrow will be 74 degrees.

Even so,  our Anna Maria week will be remembered for the good times regardless of the weather.

At South Florida Museum

The Pickle Gets a Vacation

Our granddaughter, Lillian, calls it The Chicken Nugget, in keeping with the Pickle bus’s foody name. I've suggested La Casa Dorada (Golden House in Espanol) in keeping with its factory-given name, Siesta. Or how about The Golden Chariot? Name or no name, Michael and I are driving a different rig this year to take us on our annual winter escape.

Dec. 25, 2017

Old and New

We left the mostly trusty Pickle Bus, our 1977 GMC Motor Coach, in our Ypsilanti driveway last week, and rode off in our new-to-us 2011 Four Winds Siesta.  That was Christmas Day, a couple of days earlier than we'd planned to leave Michigan because first, before our drive to Florida to begin a family vacation in a rental on Anna Maria Island, we needed to drive to Iowa for my mother's funeral. She passed away in her sleep, one month shy of age 99, on December 21st, and her funeral was Wednesday, the 27th. So off we went, bound for Florida, via Wellsburg, Iowa.

Why the change in vehicles? Well, we're hoping the Siesta's Mercedes engine will give us better gas mileage, for one thing. That's an especially important consideration this year since we plan to pile up the miles this winter traveling from Florida west through the southwest, then north to Sacramento, CA, where we will visit Annie in her new house. Then, from June to August we plan to hit the road again from northern Michigan to Alaska.

The Siesta isn't any longer than the Pickle and with its van-type front gives us a bit more maneuverability and ease of driving (Yes, I've driven it - some.) And breakdowns and on the-road repairs? Oh, please, may there be none.

So...

Day One (Dec. 25th): Michigan through northern Indiana to Iowa. High winds and lake effect snow. Rockin' and rollin' in the Siesta. At that point we were asking, how is this any better than the Pickle? (Oh, It WAS warmer on that cold blustery day.)

My family at Mom's funeral

Day Two (Dec. 28th): Iowa (after Mom's funeral) to Hopkinsville, KY. 11 hours of driving, a good but long day, much easier hours than they would have been in the Pickle. Feeling pretty darn satisfied with the Chicken Nugget's performance.

Day Three: Kentucky to. Ocala, Fl. Is there such a thing as "bad gas?" If so, we got it at Jonesboro, GA. The engine stuttered, it sputtered, it missed. How quickly we resumed a what's-wrong-now attitude. Fuel filter? Fuel pump? Leaky hose? Oh, that heart-sinking dread of breakdown that became a little too familiar in the Pickle Bus. First thing to try, of course, was new gas. So, once we had used 1/2 of the tank, we filled up again and…. happy day! That took care of most of the sputtering. We cautiously, slowly, sighed with relief and a dose of glee.  Our still shaky confidence in our new wheels was restored, at least for now.

May the golden Chicken Nugget continue to prove itself!