Day 2, Keys in the Water

I like to stand on the beach and stare out as far as I can.  I don’t have any problem seeing the other side in my mind’s eye.  The distances are staggering for the eyes but just a small trip for the imagination.

For the next 7 days, distances would be both monumental and completely irrelevant.

I stood on the hotel beach after a very stressful morning.  Tremendous technical difficulties with my phone and laptop ate up an hour and I was never able to resolve them.  That kind of thing drives me batshit.  I fix things, goddamit.  I don’t live with technical problems, I make them go away with one hack or another.  Not today. Screw it.  Time to go. 

So, before loading the bike, I walked out onto the hotel beach to relax and do the thousand- mile stare.  

The sky was deep blue and cloudless.  The sun washed everything with clean bright light.

I took some deep breaths and stepped to the shoreline.  I tossed the keys into the water and stared down at them for a minute.  I snapped a couple of pictures and picked them up.

The keys had been dipped in the waves of the southernmost coastal town in Texas.  This shit was on.

Day 2 Route

 Back across the bay towards Port Isabel.  The water was a pretty greenish blue and the town on the bay is quaint and only a little touristy.  I rode through it to connect up to 77.  Heading Northeast, I saw my waving wind turbines again.  I thought of Don Quixote jousting with windmills.  He would have shit himself if he had seen my windmills. 

There was a mandatory border patrol checkpoint about 15 miles up 77. I have never been through one.  It was pretty easy.  They had a drug sniffing dog.  He looked really happy.  I couldn't tell if he wanted to play or was just really excited that he might get to chew off one of my legs.

They walked him around my bike.  Thank god they didn’t decide to search my bike.  I wasn’t carrying anything but it would have taken us hours to sift through all my gear.  There are a million places I could have stashed several kilos of whatever. 

They asked if I was a US citizen.  I said yes and they waved me through.  I spent the rest of the ride to Kingsville thinking about why they would have a checkpoint that far from the border.  Best I can figure, if you walk or swim across, you still have to take 77 if you want to get anywhere.  If they didn't get you at the border, maybe they can get you at this checkpoint.

Made great time up to Kingsville and then on to Driscoll.  Grabbed a county road over to 286 to 358 in Corpus.  The landscape kind of reminded me of Kansas.  Horizon-stretching crop-growing flatness.  You could see for miles.  I loved it.  It felt lush and healthy after the desert of 77.

I was about 5 miles north of the bridge when a guy in a convertible red corvette rolls up next to me and honks.  He was early fifties with a baby mullet, looking at me with this shit-eating grin on his face.  I looked over at him, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted.  His smile faded and he drove away.

I don’t know if he thought I was a woman or maybe he thought I was someone he knew.  Maybe he wanted to hook-up but decided to pass when he saw my face.  Shortsighted bastard.  It could have been beautiful.

Broken-hearted and more than ready to be at the state park, I rode across the bay bridge.  One thing that I didn’t think about in the prep phase was bridges. There were so many. This was one of the prettier ones. 

John F Kennedy Memorial Causeway: Credit Cardcow.com

The water was the same jade green as South Padre.  Made it to Mustang Island SP with little effort.    

The loneliest parts of the trip were setting up camp or checking into hotel at the end of the day.  I’m not particularly fond of being alone. Or, I like it, but only for short times when I can look forward to connecting with other people soon.  There was something about setting up camp just for me that felt incredibly lonely.  I won’t say sad, just somewhat isolated.

I checked into Mustang Island State Park easily and headed over to my campsite.  The camp felt a little cramped as there were bigass RV’s on all sides.  Still, there was some grassy areas for a tent.  I was able to set up camp pretty quickly.

At this point I had some options.  Shoot back over to Corpus to do the 6 or 7 activities that I had planned or have a really good dinner on Padre and then go fishing at the beach.  Guess which one I did. 

I rolled back into town to grab a couple of supplies and get some dinner.  I ended up in this unassuming little restaurant called Dragonfly.  The décor was what I would call “island elegant”.  Not white table cloth or anything but classy in a casual island kind of way.  You knew that this wasn’t a beach diner.

Dragonfly: Credit www.dragonflycuracao.com

The service was nice and the food was amazing

Back to the State Park to fish and take pictures.  Here is what the sunset looked like from the beach:

Here are the seagulls that tried to take the hot dog off of my hook while I was casting.

Sure he looks innocent here but these bastards are aggressive!

And here is a picture of the fish I caught

You’re browser didn't screw up the picture. I caught exactly squat.

I headed back to camp.  It was off to bed on my oversized (somewhat) self inflatable camp mat. 

I think the most significant part of the day was standing on the beach and seeing only one shadow.  I’m used to seeing 3 others along with it.  Day 3 would bring all the shadows back together again.  I couldn’t wait.