Padre Island National Seashore, Texas

It took a week in Texas to finally pry the sun out of the ocean. It was still warmer than Michigan, and we made the best of it selling books, walking the beach, and spotting a Jaguarundi in Aransas Wildlife Refuge.

We went into the AWR to see whooping cranes.

 http://www.nwf.org/whoopingcrane/

It is their winter hangout and the easiest place to spot them. After watching them for a while, it was getting late and we decided to drive a 16-mile wildlife viewing loop before sunset. El Gato was right in the road, crossing into the high dune grass and hammock. Our first thought was Cougar, not knowing about the Jaguarundi. We were confused because it seemed too small for a mountain lion, and it was almost a chocolate brown color. It had the right tail, so we figured it had to be Mr. Puma himself, only young. If I’m confusing anyone, a cougar, panther, mountain lion, and puma are all the same critter. The ranger at the visitor center seemed to think we saw a mountain lion. She said it was a rare sighting but that they were known to be in the area. Still not convinced, we went home and Googled the wildlife refuge and known suspects that live there. Up popped our feline, no question. More of a Mexican mammal, they are seen occasionally in coastal regions of Texas. For wildlife freaks like us, this is like a seven on the richter scale. Jaguarundi Info

No sunshine had been kind of a bummer, not only for sought after warmth but also for solar energy. We like to boon dock camp (no hookups), so I installed a solar panel on the roof of the motor home before leaving Michigan. Without it (or the sun) our battery only lasts a few days, then we need electricity to recharge. Our plan was to move down to Padre Island National Seashore and camp out on the beach for a week or so. It is the only place in the U.S., that I know of, that you can drive right out on the beach and park with the waves outside your door. We arrived during a stormy week of bad barometrics, rain and wind. A combination that makes beach boon docking almost impossible. We stayed up in the regular park campground, which is a 100 yards up off the beach. We could still beach comb and walk for miles along the coast and sleep comfortably knowing we would not be washed out to sea. Finally, after four days, we decided it seemed calmer so we moved to the beach. We spent cocktail hour (5-6) looking out at high tide, which we were told would be 6 o’clock, to see how close to the motor home it was getting. It only washed under us a couple times and we figured it would begin receding after dark. We decided to stay-- until the rangers showed up and convinced us differently. They didn’t demand we leave but suggested it might be in our best interest. So it was back to the campground for the night. The next day we went to Corpus Christi, stayed at the Mustang State Park to recharge the battery, buy grub, and wait out the storm. It worked. The sun finally made its appearance on Friday. We moved out to the beach at Padre. The surf was tamed, the solar panel was charging, the pelicans were kettling, our closest neighbor was a couple of coyotes, and the beach was littered with every kind of shorebird we could find in our Geographic bird book. It was truly “sucking the juice out of life.”   

BEATING THE BLIZZARD

Traveling is an adventure. You never know where you are going to end up and what the stories will turn out to be along the way. On this trip the plan was to beat the snow out of Michigan. So far, so good. We did hear about a snowstorm in Houston, TX. We are hoping they have that all out of their system before we get that far south. It has been cold at night so far along the Natchez Trace and brisk during the day but the further south we roll the more it’s beginning to look “less” like Christmas.

My Uncle Vic loaned me a GPS when I left. This is my first experience with one. I have to say, “I am not impressed.” Doesn’t it seem odd that Garmin would use the voice of a very dominant women, who can’t make up her mind and with no sense of direction, to guide you through the spider web of American roads. She has me hang left when the exit is three lanes and semi’s to the right. I may be a sick puppy but I find myself arguing with this broad. Gaila says I can’t use the “B” word anymore, so I call her a Witch, as in “Witch way do you want me to go this time bitch.” She’s mad at me now, Gaila and the Witch. I can’t get any navigation help from either of them anymore. 

Our first unplanned turn of events happened in Kentucky along I-65. I sped up a bit to make room for an 18-wheeler coming out of a truck scale. When I let up on the throttle my engine backfired like a cannon shot through the motor home. I stopped at the next exit to check things out and found my backfire was one of my inner dual tires quickly expelling air. I had the brakes done before we left and the mechanic did not hook up the extension between the two tires. It hung down and rubbed against the brand new tire for five hundred miles before the extension wore through and blew. The tire was also shot as it had rubbed a soft spot in the tire too. 

I’m always a little nervous when someone works on my rig, especially if it turns out to be Homer and Jethro. We stopped at a tire dealer and sure enough H&J both worked there. They were trying to pull my hubcap off by hand, slappin’ each other upside the head and comparing tatoos. I decided to watch them like a hawk.

We met our friends from home, (the Fosdicks) at the tire store. They were headed for Alabama along I-65 the same time we were. By cell phone we kept in touch and planned to meet at the exit to Mammoth Cave National Park. We thought we would miss them when we had to leave the expressway to find a tire store, but they have a GPS with a different woman than mine and came right to the tire store and found us with no problem. It’s a small world. We hardly ever see them at home and end up having a reunion at a Kentucky tire store. 

We love reading about the history of the Natchez Trace. There should be more of these scenic roadways that allow no commercial traffic. For 444 miles we move south along a beautiful parkway at 45 m.p.h. No traffic signals or stop signs, picture perfect pavement, historical pullovers every few miles, free campgrounds and lots of hikes and friendly people. 

Still traveling after all these years!