After visiting our friends in Texas we drove to the Gulf and began making our way home along the coast. The more we drive, the more it looks like home. This is confusing.
We have been hiking in the mountains, peering over the Pacific Northwest cliffs, and staring up at Redwoods and Saguaro cacti for the last 10 months. Nothing looked like home. We have been learning about prairie dogs, elk, and burrowing owls, none of which we have at home. Home, when it doesn’t look like home, is wherever we park it. And this just makes things easier for all.
That is until it does look like home, and then we’re all a bit confused. Add to our confusion that the National Parks we’re so used to are dwindling. While we struggle with the odd familiarity of our surroundings and try to find a new normal, we are admittedly finding ourselves with just as many memories to replay,
“Remember that one time…”
Our first stop along the Gulf was Padre Island National Seashore. We enjoyed their visitor center and Jr. Ranger Program as well as the attention from a kind Ranger who introduced us to a variety of carnivorous plants we never knew existed. We energetically cleaned the beach as a part of the Jr. Ranger requirements and earned an awesome patch for our backpacks. Learning we could drive onto the beaches here and even camp on them we tried our luck. As luck would have it, the tides came in unusually high and we had to head inland. Of course when we did there were no spots available. Anywhere. Night started to fall and we decided to camp in the visitor center parking lot and hope for a spot in the morning. We awoke to a full parking lot and a massive beach clean up. We imagine they were commending our overnight commitment to participate, so we jumped right in. We caravanned down the beach almost to South Padre and began cleaning our way north. We were astounded by the trash. The most common things we loaded in our bags? Bottle caps and mylar balloon strings. We will never look at a bottle cap the same. Apparently the current is just right to carry trash from the Atlantic into the Gulf and onto Padre necessitating efforts like this one, often. It is devastating to see. Our unintended participation in this beach clean up was rewarded with a T Shirt, pizza, and hot dogs.
“Remember that one time…”
From Padre, we headed to Gavleston, Texas and gray skies moved in. I am always struck by how weather can shade our opinion of a place. We tried our hand at Geocashing and failed to find the cashe. Twice. We tried to explore downtown and were unimpressed. We tried to bike the “endless” trails, which amounted to one mile. Nevertheless, we enjoyed ourselves and will most certainly have memories from this stop as this park held the campground shower to end all campground showers. Here we were forced to all cram into one shower, bolt the door, and hurry. As soon as the door bolted my children began to scream with delight. The place was crawling with tree frogs. Now I like tree frogs, but when my children are naked, climbing the walls of a filthy campground shower the likeness of a prison cell, and tree frogs are catapulting with abandon to save themselves, well, I lost it. I mean screaming, trying to escape naked lost it. My entire family was thoroughly entertained, and as we walked home Shawn put his arm around me and just laughed.
“Remember that one time…”
After Gavleston we crossed into Louisiana and found a campground outside of New Orleans. We spent two days exploring this lively city. The girls reflect on New Orleans with, “ It is so dirty, so different, and so awesome.” I think that means they liked it? I contemplated heading into the city for Mardi Gras, but without a home base or hotel, I felt driving would be a risk. As it were we hit the city two days after Fat Tuesday. I’m not sure the city got the message that Lent had begun. This meant more live music, street performers, and beads than I had anticipated which made our experience all the richer. We strolled the market and ate gumbo, exhausted the French Quarter and ate begniets at Café Du Monde, and may or may not have taken our kids down Bourbon street for Poboys at Nola’s.
We found the Jean Lafitte National Historic Park downtown and were determined to learn why the National Park Service had chosen the name of a pirate! This led us to the Chalmette Battlefield and National Cemetery where we stood on the battle ground of the Battle of New Orleans and sang “In 1814 we took a little trip…” at the top of our lungs. I looked at my children singing on the battlefield of Chalmette and discussing why the British were still lingering in the United States post Revolution and thought to myself, “This is certainly not normal, but it is beautiful. Road schooling at its finest.” When we returned to New Orleans the next day our exploring led us to Louie Armstrong’s Park and a lesson in the history of Jazz, beautiful above ground cemetaries, and into the middle of a St. Patrick’s Day “practice” parade. This was too much. Who practices for a parade? These guys. We followed their live music for blocks and racked up on beads and goodies. The girls could not believe their luck. A parade to practice the parade.
“Remember that one time…”
We moved again down the coast to Gautier, Mississippi to explore Biloxi and see friends of ours the Gautiers… The answer to your question is yes. They spoiled us with a lovely evening of friendship, laughter, and 30 pounds of crawfish! This family was introduced to us via mutual friends, but on this visit we had the opportunity to realize just how much we love them. We met them again for dinner to keep the conversation going! The next day we toured the Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge. We met the sweetest, older couple volunteering there; they were over the moon that M and R wanted to complete their Jr. Ranger Program. They spent so much time with them and spoiled them with drawstring bags, stickers, water bottles, and patches. For some reason the woman reminded me of my grandmother and as I watched her with my children I couldn’t help but think how much my grandparents would have loved them.
On our final day we toured Biloxi. Biloxi is a quaint, costal town with adorable boutiques I had to steer clear of and bakeries we did not. We caught their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, the real one not practice, and racked up again with beads and goodies. Someone even threw M a teddy bear. Thanks, she needs more stuffed animals. Just for giggles we capped the night with a visit to Margaritaville. Daddy generously handed the girls an arcade playing card and to our surprise M asked to use the whole thing on rock climbing the massive, Margaritaville volcano. Stunned. Absolutely, yes. Do it sister!
“Remember that one time…”
We moved into Gulf Shores, Alabama to stay at what would become our favorite state park. We took an actual Geocashing class and met with much cashe success! We loved the white, sugar sand beaches and aqua water! We enjoyed the downtown area, and rode MILES of beautiful bike trails every day!
We called my Godparents hoping on a whim they were still in town after wintering there. Luck was on our side this time as they had planned to leave that afternoon, but would stay the night just to catch dinner with us. We were thrilled! We were able to see their condo on the beach and fully understand why they decided to call this place home for the winter. It is breathtaking. We sat on their balcony and caught up, then headed to a vacation favorite called The Hangout. It is not just a meal; it is an experience. They have a foam party, for kids, live music outside, and inside the music competes with your conversation as the diners line dance on the floor and on the tables. And somehow they manage to keep this whole thing family friendly! As we left we were doing the Cha-Cha Slide while the waiters threw cocktail napkins in the air and chaos ensued.
“Remember that one time…”
As we travel down the Gulf Coast we continue to move closer to home. And while the terrain tends to be a bit confusing, we continue to create and store precious memories we won’t soon forget.
“Remember that one time…”