I stayed in Corpus long enough to watch the sun rise from the Holiday Inn parking lot. The undramatic unsunrise ahead of me was entertaining only because I also watched the animated sea gulls, who seemed to come of of nowhere as soon as the first rays of sun radiated over the horizon.
I was cold in my van, wishing for a hot coffee and impatiently waiting for the sun to get over the bay. As soon as she rose, I continued my drive southbound.
I drove south along Shoreline Boulevard, a scenic boulevard that straddles the west Bay, which turned into Ocean Drive when the pricy homes on either side of the road came into view. I didn't care at this point to see those homes, as the view homewise reminded me of a down-scaled Deal, New Jersey. I don’t want to see homes on my trip, I want to see natural landscape and wildlife.
Traffic was minimal so early in the morning, which was fine with me as traffic noise just made it harder for me to hear my radio. I had to chuckle to myself when I saw a traffic marquee with the words "Trucks" mispelled to read "Turcks entering highway," especially with the recent news of Armenians wanting autonomy from Turkey. I could just imagine angry, saber-rattling Turks coming out from behind the elegant yards to attack drivers.
A few hours later in Kingsville I saw another mispelled sign, this one more permanent, with "Texas Souvienirs" on the window. Either spelling isn't stressed in South Texas schools or the people making these signs are careless. Either way the end effect is both chuckable and embarrassing.
Ocean Drive ended at the ATM Corpus Christi campus. A few blocks further was the Naval base. I could go no further.
The west gate of the Naval Base was closed, which made me drive another 15 miles out of my way to get to the main gate where I could use the gym. The gym, I learned later, didn’t open till 10am and the RV park was locked up. Still, I stayed there along the pier watching the birds, with the distance skyline of Corpus Christi across the water. I cancelled my shower and risked waiting until later tonight at the next RV park.
I now left the city for points further south. I had no idea HOW far I was going, but south of Corpus there was nothing. NOTHING but flat farm fields and after Kingsville, oilfields on either side of Hwy 77. It was the most boring stretch yet along the entire route all week.
The only good thing were all the birds of prey along the FM 70. I saw white-tailed hawks, even a white-shouldered kite (white belly and black wings) and kites and shrikes.
I made it to Kingsville at 10am. It was the first decent town after Corpus, but a dead downtown. The town theatre “Texas” still stood but no other stores were open. I’m not sure whose cars were along Main Street. Kingsville, once an important town along the cotton route of South Texas, was no longer an important town and it showed. The only good thing was the cheap gas at the HEB. The rest of the town was for snowbirds looking for a place to golf; not my cup of tea.
The second good thing about Kingsville was the Naval Training Base east of town where I showered at the gym with cool water that refused to warm up.
From Kingsville I drove east on Farm-to-Market roads toward the inlet by the ocean, but once there realized what a waste that was. The shoreline at Riviera, TX, a grossly misnamed little town, was littered with beer bottles and cans and rubber tires. I watched fish jump out of the water but had no luck actually photographing a fish in the air, nor did I have the patience to wait all day. This place was not the place to linger. It was more of a Redneck harbor for locals who liked their Bud beer and then left the trash on the shore. I was getting tired of seeing trash along the Texas shore.
One good thing here is that I saw a golden-fronted woodpecker fly in front of me. I was watching other birds so this woodie took me by surprise. It was my fist new bird for the day.
I drove back on another FM road 628 back westbound, to hit Hwy77 again and drove another 50 miles across barren, boring flatlands south on Hwy 77. The land was fertile agricultural land, but scenic it was not.
The temperature in my van by now showed 85F and I felt it. I turned the A/C on for the first time on my trip. I went from cold feet at 6am to sweating four hours later, across a landscape I had rather not have to go through. This was the ugliest part of my entire drive.
I made it to Rolandville by 2:30pm and decided on a short detour to the Las Palomas Wildlife Refuge, a small and negligible tract of refuge that the state seems to want to ignore. When I got to the trailhead all I encountered was a locked gate and a sign announcing the Palomas Refuge, but no maps were availabe to take for the walk. After 20 minutes on a hot and exposed trail, not to mention a bug bite that stung me on my left foot, I was miserable. Not a bird was to be found because the salt ponds had evaporated. No water, no birds. And a good hour wasted.
From this disaster I recovered and got back on the road, now quite obviously on the northern edge of South Texasland: a metropolis of all the small towns around Harlingen, Brownsville, Edinburg, Weslaco. I didn't want to enter that wasteland yet and stayed as far east as I could along the city. I could smell buring brush again although I didnt see any smoke. Grapefruit trees lined many people's properties.
This was a depressing section of run-town villages, tin shacks and stray skinny dogs looking
meekly at me as I drove by. After spotting the second stray dog near the road I had to stop and feed the poor dog, walking weakly along the road with her ears and tail down. When I stopped to talk to her she didn't run off, but instead stopped to listen to my voice. When I reached over to grab a can of Ol' Ray that I bought at Walmart in Port Lavaca for the purpose of feeding strays, I knew this was my first opportunity to feed a hapless critter. She wasn't so much a stray--there were houses across the street--as she was neglected by her owner and probably had pups to feed.
The dog didn't run from me, but instead watched me open the canas she stayed back her distance. I dropped the yucky gelatinous contents of "Stew"on the tar road and the poor critter devoured every last morsel there was, even licking the gravy off the tar. This dog was a pure mutt, her ribs were exposed and so were her teats which made me wonder if she had pups somewhere she was nursing? Female animals the world over suffer so much more than male counterparts, often not to their own will, that I can't help but have a soft spot for them. As for animals, all animals in my eyes deserve speciall attention. Animals are voiceless when it comes to the cruelty at the hands of man.
There were other dogs barking in the distance and I don't think this poor dog was totally abandoned. She was just an unaltered female in a rural environment where farmers don't care about the welfare of their dogs. She most likely will go into heat as soon as her pups are old enough and the vicious cycle will continue. I just gave her a few calories to subsist on for another day.
It was after 3pm and I was heading east, toward Atascosa National Wildlife refuge. This was a MUST SEE on my trip, and now I regretted wasting two hours to get to it. The park road was badly rutted and I was losing daylight. I didn't get started on the loop drive until 4:34pm, just under two hours before sunset. The 15-mile drive loop was at least an hour's worth, and the osprey loop another 15 minutes.
The refuge was busy at such a late hour, and people were coming in even after me. I made a futile walk to the osprey overlook, saw nothing but a loving Hispanic couple and their two rambunctious boys, and drove on to the loop drive. Despite the late start I saw several osprey, heron, kites and flycatchers. The habitats around me were thick thornbrush, quite a difference from Aransas. I even saw another caracara in the midle of the road. Those birds are amazing, with their long wingspan and bright-colored heads. No wonder they are the national Mexican bird: they are unique to the country!
The refuge closes at sunset, which today meant around 6:15pm. I made it to the exit at that time, but two pick-ups were waiting on the other side of the gate. At first I panicked at the sight of the gate, but when I realized the gate was motion-sensored for outbound cars, and opened for me, I was relieved. However, another truck was waiting for me to get through. The young male drive smiled and waved at me, then drove through the same gate. He was driving the wrong way on a one-way road. As soon as he drove past me (I could tell he was in a hurry) and I thought --WTF--the unmarked pick-up behind him turned its whoppie lights on and pulled the car over.
I wonder how much that action cost the driver? He had a wife and young family with him, and the annual park fee pass of $80 is getting out of reach even for me. But could he not afford the $6 car fee? And why was he waiting so late in the day to drive through? What was there to see after sunset? The thick thornbrush didn't seem too inviting.
I was starving now and needed a place to stop and eat. There was nothing close in this unfamiliar land, nothing in Bayview, a village of 393 according to its sign, and I drove eastward on FM510. Little did I know I was now in tourist country when I stopped at the first available eatery, the Bay B Boomers Grill, where service at the bar was slower than molasses in January because the bartender, Gigi, took more time for the tabled elderlies in the room than me. I waited and waited to be served, and when she finally got to me I simply ordered the veggie pizza, which turned out to be a cardboard-like, tasteless version of pizza. I ate half of it because I was hungry, and not because the food was exceptional.
For many other people this would be the perfect bar: smoky, with a pool table and country music in the background. One elderly man in his 60s sat at the bar and smoked. He left, and then a bandaned biker came in to take over his place. The clientele looked touristy. And here I was at the bar, with my laptop, going over my photos. Perhaps I looked like someone who didn't deserve first-class service? I tipped Gigi the bare minimum. This place gave me the worst service of all the places yet on my trip. I was afraid this was starting a new trend.
My next worry was finding a place to stay for the night. I had wanted to stay near the Refuge so I could go back there in the morning, but instead I kept driving east and ended up on South Padre Island and passed some very scenic neighborhoods. And then it hit me: I had reached Touristville bigtime, with high-rised hotels and fancy restaurants. I immediately thought of Erin and her love for both the ocean and all things drinkable-with-friends-to-get-drunk-with. She would like this place.
The one redeeming thing about the restaurants was the Padre Island Brewing Company I passed. I made a Texas U-Turn to get inside, tried a wheat beer, and told the bartender, who was far better than Gigi, that I would be back again tomorrow. It was also a plus that the place offeres free WiFi. Free WiFi AND beer at the same place, how awesome! This is where I should have eaten for the night, if I had remembered this brewpub was there. As it was, I made it to the place ten minutes before their 9pm closing time, yet my server did not make me feel rushed to leave.
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