Next day was moving day but there was no rush about it. We only had a two-hour trip. I got in a short jog, only to return and find Ed had done all of the work. My conscience was whispering guilt in my ear...but that's okay. I don't hear all that well these days anyway.
No one was dumping when we arrived, so there was no hurry to park, but still we managed to place the values a few feet too far away for our "stinky slinky" to reach. Luckily Ed had a backup and we hooked them together. Future note: there's no point in trying to squeeze down the slinky--when the sludge starts moving, the expandable hose expands immediately. If you were trying to get some gravity assist, it won't work.
A fifth wheel arrived just behind us, but rather than wait they went down the road to the boat ramp and came back in the opposite direction. That way they could get all set up while we were dumping--shortening their total time. We asked the lady dumper if there was room for us to turn around at the boat ramp and she said yes. That saved us having to drive all the way through the narrow campground again in order to get turned around.
So after leaving the campsite at 11:20, we were passing the park gate at 11:58. Forty minutes seems a long time for dumping, but I would guess one-third of that was winding around the narrow little park roads.
It wasn't too long until we were passing through Beaumont. The traffic was lighter than it probably ever has been and probably will ever be again, so it wasn't bad at all. I doubt if we had to slow down even once. After that it was Port Arthur--but first I had to make us miss a turn at Nederland--stupid Dutch!--and creep along through small streets to get back on the highway going the right way. The phone navigation was working but it failed to tell us to "stay left" at the fork which looked like a main route but wasn't. Turning around and going back was pointless--it would have taken longer than the detour.
The campground was flat and nearly treeless, with a single road heading south "alongside" the ocean--paralleling it but a few hundred yards away. (On the map it looks like 400-600') There were pull-through campsites on either side, about 25 total. About half of them were occupied; the spacing was good and felt uncrowded.
Right next to our site was a little marshy pool filled with reeds and birds: boat-tailed grackles, red-winged blackbirds, a common gallinule--yes, the same bird I'd spent so much time trying to photograph across Steinhagen Lake, coots, and a pied-billed grebe. The latter was a new one for me despite the fact that they're exceedingly common. I'd never gotten close enough to positively identify one before.
And over the pool we could see the ocean!
After a quick setup we took a stroll along the raised walkway to check out the water.
It was very, very windy. Not exactly cold, but I was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt and I definitely wanted more clothes. The water was gray, forbidding, unpleasant to behold. It was in a mood that definitely did not want to play.
Along the shoreline there were, of course, tons of peeps (sandpiper sp.) that only an expert could tell apart. A few gulls and terns, and I'm almost sure I saw a brown pelican. But not sure enough to note it down. It wasn't a day for bird watching.
We retreated back to our shelter to take it easy, watch a couple of ships passing far, far offshore, and enjoy the loveliness of simply being someplace cooler than words. Supper was steaks on the grill--it wasn't too windy for that. And even though it clouded up and looked like rain, it didn't.
Watching ships pass by.
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