And man does it feel good. Yesterday, we finally pulled out of Brownsville, Texas, and drove north for a couple of hours, including through a customs checkpoint where the dude with the gun glanced in Tracy’s window then said to him, “Just you and the two dogs then, huh.”
I usually keep quiet in these situations, but I just had to raise my hand and correct him with, “One dog, one girl.” (I refrained from adding, “sir” because he looked half my age.) Maybe he just wanted to see if we spoke English. I mean, I showered that morning and everything.
We had lunch in the trailer at a truck stop, which was not the most picturesque of stops, but we ate our own food in our own kitchen, which still gives me a thrill while on the road. We then drove a couple more hours north then west over flat ranch land sprinkled with mesquite trees, while listening to W. F. Strong tell his stories of Texas through the Autio app. Yee haw (to quote Strong), we made it to Choke Canyon State Park and the glorious campsite Tracy picked out on the large reservoir here.
We’re parked under grandly green and curved old mesquite trees, with the closest camper far enough away that I can’t really hear them. Big relief. I didn’t realize how I was despising living so freaking close to other people in Brownsville until we landed here. You know it was bad if I’m lauding campground life for once!
We have a sturdy picnic shelter all to ourselves and plenty of room for the tent, and no insane wind to blow it down. Plus, we set up a happy hour spot between us and the lake so we can look out and enjoy our beverages with a view.
We’re to get rain all week, which is fair play seeing as how we had maybe two rainy days in our three months at Brownsville. Since we might not put the kayaks in, this morning while Tracy was wandering around birding, I got my bike off the truck rack and explored the park, including finding awesome birds of my own.
This turkey gobbler was leading his harem of hens across the park road, and I made him bristle up on my way to the entrance station to get a map and on my way back. Dude! I am not interested in your hens, except to take these lame photos.
So, here we are, camping again, among the wildlife and family vacationers and pontoon boaters. I kind of like it.
Yay!