Goose Island was without doubt a beautiful park and breathtaking location, but after four days of mostly rain, I was pretty glad to shove off. Before we left, we met the fellow who would be taking our site. He was from San Antonio and a frequent visitor. I asked him if it was ever sunny and he replied, “Almost always.” Oh, well. After a week of rain, our luck was sure to change with another geographical location.
Our plan was to cross Texas as quickly as possible. Due to the state-wide spring break, we had been stymied in getting reservations at the parks where we wanted them and we had decided to head for New Mexico. We would return to Texas once everyone was back in school.
Of course, with a state as big as Texas “crossing quickly” is a relative term. We headed south to Corpus Christi. As we crossed over the Corpus Christi Harbor Bridge and sped west we could see the tall buildings of downtown to our left and the enormous port and beginnings of a long string of refineries to our right.
The refineries stretched quite a distance to the west of the city and then ceased as the wide open land reclaimed precedence. At first we were on four lane highways and the fields we passed extended to the horizon and were verdant with tall grasses and dotted with cattle grazing across them. Decorative iron ranch gates interrupted the vast land.
They announced the name of each landholder’s property and were often decorated with appropriate figures or animals. As we got further and further west, the landscape became dotted with mesquite and cattle. Cattle was definitely the one constant.
The roads in Texas are often designated as either a county road with a numerical designation (e.g. CR 599) or Farm to Market Road with a numerical designation (e.g. FM1466). This all seemed kind of strange to us when we first hit Texas, but we had become accustomed to it. I am just not sure how one remembers the numbers better than a proper name. Some of the FM or CR roads, do have secondary names and I guess that is why.
About two thirds of the way through our trip, we turned off Highway 59 on to a 68 mile stretch of FM 468. This was a two lane highway which undulated like a baby roller coaster. Up and down we went for mile after mile. This was tough driving made only a little easier by our chosen soundtrack: the Garth Brooks channel on SXM. To each side all we saw was mesquite and cattle and an occasional ranch gate.
Soon oil derricks joined the mix as did signs offering fracking water for sale. Everything of value was being extracted from this land. As the frequency of oil derricks increased, so did the appearance of small encampments. These were worker’s quarters. Sometimes they were mobile homes, sometimes a sort of generic white rv and sometimes simply a glorified container. Alex lived in a container when he was deployed so I guess it isn’t as bad as it might sound. Signs hawked two bedrooms and full kitchens, but it all looked pretty basic.
Our goal for the night was the Triple R RV Park in Crystal City. We were out in the middle of nowhere and feeling a little anxious about where we were headed. We pulled in to what turned out to be a very large park. There were rows and rows of pull-through sites sitting on gravel with patches of dusty grass. A row of the generic white rv’s sat to the left along with some Fifth Wheels and Class B’s which had clearly been in place for a long time. We pulled up to a cute little house which was the office and met Rashell, the park manager.
At this point we had seen the front of the park. Rashell explained that the park extended for a mile along the Nueces River and was actually part of a working ranch. She directed us to drive back to our section of the park along the river to its far end. This seemed to be the end of the park designated for transient guests. A small lake wound around the end of the park and situated in front of it was a fairly large pavilion.
Our site was quite lovely. Beyond the lake we could see cattle grazing. In the pavilion were spotless showers, a laundry facility and a big recreation area with a wide screen tv. It was all very nicely done, completely peaceful and lovely. We did laundry, ate a simple dinner and hit the hay after a long day of driving.
The next morning we were sorry to leave the oasis of Triple R and tempted to stay, but the road called to us. We had somewhere to go and our next stop in the big hop scotch across Texas was Fort Stockton.