After nearly six!!!!!!! consecutive weeks without the RV, we finally polished ‘r up and hit the trail. Bregitte drove the girls and the rig from Jackson to Houston the day before I left work, and I flew into Bush something-or-other International in Houston where Kati and her crew picked me up. Pretty sweet, since I haven’t seen them in quite a while. They hung with us at the Houston RV campground, sampled some of the finest Mexican food the second largest U.S. city had to offer, then we were on our way.
(We did remember Graham, despite his best efforts to go unnoticed and sneak off).
From Houston, we were bound for San Antone and the most famous outpost in American history, the Alamo. Which is rather disappointing as far as memorable outposts go. But they had a pretty sweet old-school firearms display that Rosemary quite enjoyed, so it was all good.
(After a while, you just get used to public transportation, and eventually embrace it).
Then it was on to the equally famous San Antonio Riverwalk. The usually pristine waters had turned murky on account of the rain, but it was a pleasant afternoon all the same.
The next day was one of the most special days we’ve encountered on this whole trip. We participated in mass (despite being manifestly un-Roman Catholic) at the Mission Concepcion. The oldest unrestored stone church in America, Concepcion appears today much the way it did when it was commissioned in 1755. It was truly a blessing to spend a splendid Sunday morning in this weathered house of God.
On our way out of Tejas and into the deserts of the Southwest, we stayed one lonley, windy evening in Balmorhea State Park. Could have been a nice time, but the wind was blowing 30+ mph, and the sign on the entrance of the park read “Beware of Rattlesnakes.” So much for a relaxing stay.
But that was Texas. And the rest of the trip was not.