Tulip Time in Hot Springs AR

We're finally out of Texas! On March 18, we began a month-long stay at J&J RV Park one mile from Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas. This after a grueling drive from Jasper, TX, which we had intended to make as a two-day trip with an intermediate stop at a casino or a Wal-Mart. No such luck.

The northeast road out of Texas took us through Shreveport, LA, which was a bust. The city is crowded and dirty and most of the casinos (all clinging to the skirts of the downtown waterfront) wouldn't take RVs; the one that did was nearly impossible to get to through rutted roads, tricky construction detours, and one-way streets--no place to be driving a fifth wheel!

We left in a hurry for Texarkana on the TX-AR border (another bust except for a welcome rest stop for lunch), then pushed on to Hope, AR, in--well--hopes of a Wal-Mart. No-go there, either. To our surprise, they offered a separate RV area marked by wonderfully long angled parking spots, but they were all taken up by truckers already tucked in for the night, refrigerators chugging. Access to the back of the store was limited by a height-clearance bar that was too low for Ken's rig. By this time, I was tired of travel and getting crabby; Ken wasn't doing much better, and Patchouli hadn't been out of the rig all day.

We weren't due to arrive for another day or so at our Hot Springs reservation, but a call to J&J said we could come in earlier than scheduled. So we left Hope to drive another 90 miles and finally landed at a place to stay. Total travel was from 8:30a to 5:30p, plus another hour and a half to get checked in, backed in, and settled in. Urg.

However, the park is a real find. Our sites (though tight) backed up to a burbling creek near the main highway (mostly quiet at night), and the grounds were well kept overall. We were surrounded by shady sweet gum trees (which dropped their ankle-breaking, mine-like seed pods everywhere), and sweetly fragrant pawlonia trees (imported from China years ago and now rampant in the area) were in bloom; they kept dropping huge, blousy, pale-pink blossoms that looked like something out of Fantasia's Nutcracker Suite. Good walking areas for Patchouli, including a grassy hill to climb and the creek to explore. Only $450 a month, which included electric and a very fast internet, but poor phone coverage because it's in a slight valley.

View from my picnic area. Little fish jumped at dusk, and some guy with an ATV roared down the center of the creek splooshing rooster tails from all wheels. Took a while for the mud to settle again. Patchouli met a frog here--I'm not sure which one of them was the more startled.

A morning visitor outside my window.

Our touring of the area included a visit to Garven Gardens at tulip time (photos below), a couple of visits to Hot Springs (next blog), a really bad comedy/magic act one night (my fault), a brief hike up one of the local mountains (long valley views once out of the trees), and drives on warm days to Entergy Park (a gem of a city park tucked away near a lake) and Catherine Lake State Park. Weather was changeling--several afternoon thunderstorms with pea-sized hail and tornado warnings. One 1:00a storm was 22 minutes of nearly continuous lightning; it put Disney's Fantasmic show to shame. Diesel went from $3.79 to $4.11 a gallon during the month.

Garven Gardens is a private botanical garden that has acres of wandering paths, gentle hills, surprise water features, and a photo op at every turn. We caught it at the end of camellia season and the height of tulips. Daffodils were already gone; rhodies and azaleas were not yet started.

Japanese pond. Cherry trees were in bloom weeks earlier than in the PacNW.

Impossible to keep the camera in its case. Equally challenging was keeping other visitors out of the picture.

This is part of a children's area that you get to via an ingeniously sprawling walkway that spirals you from woods to ground level. Kids can climb a complex of rocks and tunnels and equipment. I especially liked this bridge, with its woven branches and integrated trees.

A model railroad, run by the local (usually gray-haired) enthusiasts. We arrived as one of them was clearing leaves from the tracks and getting two trains ready to go.

An amazing scale model of the local brick works that used to be in town.

Patchouli might have liked trying to catch this train through the tunnels.

Martin Dies at Jasper

March 13-17, 2011. Having spent two weeks hugging the Texas-Mexico border from El Paso to Mission, and two months traveling along the entire Gulf coast, we are starting to head north, more or less still on the eastern side of Texas, into the lower reaches of the midwest green belt.

The Texas terrain to date has been endless flat and scrub (of either the desert or dunes variety, depending on the region) punctuated with lots of windswept live oak. Now it becomes hillier, greener, and with more variety in the trees. Weather remains chilly and damp since it's still mid March. We are far from any major cities.

There are many dam-made lakes in this area, with state parks to go with them. We settled on Martin Dies, Jr. in Jasper for a few days' stay. It proved to be a quiet and relaxing park, although Jasper is one of those dots on the map that offers little beyond boating and fishing for visitors. We toured a few other lake parks in the area (= long country drives); followed a solitary sign to explore a Corps of Engineers campground and ended up (after miles of successively deteriorating road surfaces) at a rural dead-end next to a potato farm and horse pasture; and drove through little ol' Jasper, where we finally came upon a Goodwill to offload a mess of things I've been hauling around since January.

Finally out of Texas desert and beach, and into Texas green!

The campground welcome sign at Martin Dies, Jr. State Park in Jasper, TX.

Our rigs were on two sides of a huge corner lot; this is from my front door with Ken's rig way out there. Oodles of space between all the sites made the noisy, happy family to my left almost unnoticeable. Patchouli loved the tree debris to poke around in, and he bravely growled away a raccoon family that visited one night.

My rig, as seen from a wee fishing pier across the way.

The lake from the fishing pier. That straight strip of land across the water is the main road along the lake. Very quiet from here.

Cedars grow near the shores and make the whole place look like a bayou in the narrower waterways. We tried to get Patchouli to join us on the pier, but the sound of water lapping at the rocks was a bit too much...as was a boy carrying a lively fishing pole that clearly was a cat-eating monster.

The park offers a few miles of easy trails that wind you through thin and scrubby trees and past swamps and ponds.

"Turtle pile!" (Yurtle's third from the right.)

So It's Not Campbell's Galveston

March 6-10. Our time in Galveston, TX, was mostly spent hanging around the beachfront RV park, wringing humidity out of our clothes, and touring the town by car and a little by foot. Oh, and did I mention wringing the humidity out of everything?

We arrived during the last days of Mardi Gras, which Galveston apparently celebrates with as much fervor as New Orleans. The road to (and through) town hugs the coastline, and on our first day here the tides were so high there was no beach along the miles-long seawall. Instead there were parked cars. Lots of them. And dogs. Lots of them. And people. Lots of them, too. Most folks were draped with scads of mardi gras necklaces--plastic beads in shiny metallic purple, blue, red, pink, gold, silver. A carnival had taken over the west side of the street and was alive with flashing lights and whirling, barf-0-matic rides. Children and hot dogs and cotton candy and coke cups everywhere. Half the population was negro, the other white or Asian. Traffic crawled along from light to light as drivers looked for parking on the ocean side of the road. The historic center of Galveston was closed off to cars for the party...and the city was charging $15 for parking plus a whopping $15 per person just to walk past the barriers into the heart of the street fair (which wasn't going all that strong mid-day on the last Sunday of the festival). Forget that, bub!

Our two rigs near the shore at Galveston Island State Park. Ken bought his Big White with no paint or vinyl artwork, and we immediately stripped off all the identifying logos and model info that Carriage slaps on by default. In a world where fifth wheels now sport full-body paint jobs and full-length swooshes like their motorhome cousins, this clean version is a head-turner. At least one person at every park stops by to ask, "What kind of rig you got there? Custom?"

You'd think there was a sign, "One Gull Per Post, Please."

Gulf of Mexico on a windy March morning. A mile of beach was less than a minute's walk from the rigs...and that's only because we had to go half the length of the park to get to an opening in the fence line in the photo above.

This same flock of pelicans repeatedly flew the beachline. Patchouli didn't much like the ocean roar and wave action, but he discovered the joys of soft dune sand for a litterbox. Imagine having to carry poop bags when walking a cat.

Like so many Gulf coast spots, Galveston is an oil rig town, so of course we toured the Ocean Star Offshore Drilling Rig Museum. It's a small rig by today's standards but, aside from the expected pro-oil PR that abounds throughout, is interesting to tour. Four floors, lots of fascinating rig models and drilling exhibits, and the chance to stand underneath the derrick and stare up into a narrowing channel of metal braces to the top of the drill post. Sort of like being beneath the Eiffel Tower on a tiny scale...only it reeks of diesel and oil. No photos from that day, but you can check it out at http://www.oceanstaroec.com.

I was most fascinated by the range of Galveston's homes. 99% of them were on stilts to survive hurricanes. This neighborhood is built to weave through a bunch of inlets, giving most residents waterfront access to canals that lead to bays all around the island.

Homes on canals have their own docks, usually covered. From back door to moored fishing boat in ten steps.

Another coastline neighborhood. It seems impossible to plop homes of this size onto stilts, but it works. Some homes are grand enough to rival those in La Jolla and Lake Washington. Sweeping exterior staircases, botanical-garden landscaping, stonework facing, full-surround windows, octagonal turrets...everything you'd expect in multi-million dollar homes, except with all the living space standing one story above the ground.

And then there was this abandoned gem along the main highway into town...

Perhaps the theory is that it would just bob away in a hurricane.

I loved the pastels and fresh whites that are so popular here. This is a new neighborhood, with Gulf views and a big lagoon in the center of the community...plus multi-storied homes to take it all in. Half the lots were still unsold and no one seemed to be home in the ones that were here, although many looked lived in. A few were probably model homes.

A typical older home right on the Gulf. Many had For Rent signs on their balconies. That's beach sand for the frontage road.

And this is their view of an abandoned house across from their front yard. This one showed some severe hurricane damage, probably from the devastating 2009 season that left most of Galveston under water.

OK, so beachfront property isn't all it's cracked up to be. This one's foundation is nearly gone.

Leaving Galveston Island from the north end means a free 20-minute ferry ride...but we ended up on separate boats! That's Ken's rig sailing away at the very tail end of the ferry, just to the left of that center post. (Foolishly, he waited for me at the other side. Now he's really and truly stuck with me and Patchouli.)

Florida Interlude

February 11-19, 2011. We leave Patchouli in the loving care of fellow RVrs Carol and Richard at Aransas Pass and drive off to San Antonio TX for a next-day flight to Orlando FL. Primary reason--a week-long visit to Walt Disney World and environs with Ken's friends Mark, Lisa, and Mary from southern California.

I've never been to San Antonio, and we enjoy a walk through the downtown area and have dinner at a local "burrito bar" (read: two-fisted burritos made to order) near our hotel.

San Antonio has a river through the city. The current generation has tamed it into a canal loop replete with putter-boat tours, riverside restaurants, two stories of shops, and office/condo space above. It was lovely to stroll on a sunny day. The remains of the Alamo (more story than "remains"), plus a lot of touristy attractions like a wax museum and Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum, are just a few blocks' walk from here.

San Antonio's river--same spot, the other direction.

Ken and I stayed at a two-bedroom timeshare in Orlando (thank you, mom!) that was big and comfortable and only a few miles from the entrance to WDW. Mark, Lisa, and Mary got into another room in the same complex, which made logistics easy for travel.

Any week at a self-contained hotel at WDW must start with a trunkload of food for five people, care of the local Wal-Mart.

Computers remain our constant companions, even at our Orlando hotel.

This was my third trip to Walt Disney World, and likely to be my last. Even in the low season of February, the place was mobbed, especially the Magic Kingdom, an aging duplicate of Disneyland that none of us enjoyed because of the screaming parents, the loose-running kids, the ever-underfoot strollers and guest carts, the horrendously crammed food courts, the sardine-like ride lines, etc. I had also forgotten that this park is so similar to Disneyland, with very little of its own unique flavor. Pirates of the Caribbean (my all time favorite ride at Disneyland) had been completely revamped for the Jack Sparrow/Johnny Depp movie hook, which left the whole thing just too dumb for words. (Our experience wasn't helped much by the half hour we spent wending through the rather nifty "Port Royale" staging area, followed by a not so nifty 35-minute wait for a ride breakdown when we were five minutes from the loading dock.) Clearly that park is only for 50- and 60-somethings who have a mess of grandkids in tow.

Disney Hollywood Studios (formerly MGM Studios) hadn't changed much over 25 years, either, except that it's more crowded, more overpriced (a dinner buffet at $36 a pop--and fully booked for the night!), and somehow more difficult to navigate without a lot of doubling-back and losing my bearings.

The Tower of Terror there remains one of the best rides, as does the Buzz Lightyear arcade ride, which we missed because of the crowds and conflicting FastTrack wait times. The Aerosmith coaster (enjoyable when I went with Tom and Mimi several years ago) was no fun this time with all the blasting rock music and flashing lights; I must be losing my tolerance as I get older.

The park did have a couple of engaging live special effects shows about the first Indiana Jones film and a car chase through an Italian city. Some of those movie tricks look so real on screen! We also took in the Fantasmic light show, which I enjoyed watching for the second time, except that sitting for a couple of hours on concrete slabs isn't the most comfortable way to spend a cold February night. And of course, getting in and out of the show's dead-end venue meant 45 minutes of press and shuffle at both ends of the program until the congestion let up.

My favorite WDW park is still the Animal Kingdom. It has fewer fast rides so is less of a draw for families, and is just more relaxed overall because of the zoo/botanical gardens atmosphere. The Tree of Life with all of its animal carvings still fascinates me and makes an easy landmark for getting around the park's various world "countries." Sadly, I didn't find "D'Vine" this time--a vine-entwined performing artist on stilts who wanders the park and stops, half camouflaged among foliage, for passers-by to interact with...if they notice her!

Mark and Lisa at one of the many perfect photo spots in the Animal Kingdom park...by far the WDW park we all liked best.

Our turn at the same spot.

Ken, me, Lisa, Mark in the caverns beneath the Tree of Life and ready for our 3-D "It's a Bug's Life" show (Mary behind camera). It left us all laughing and sputtering from the sensa-round smells, sprays, and startling seat action.

The fastest ride here is via bobsled on the Expedition Everest coaster. Great fun.

A rare shot of Mary, the gal usually behind the camera. This is on the Safari ride at Animal Kingdom. The antelope and rhinos were closest to the jeep on our run, but we didn't get the giraffes hanging over the top like the last time I was here.

On safari care of Disney.

We spent a lot of time just touring the WDW resorts by boat, bus, and foot. We're waiting here for our next bus after an amble through the rustically posh Fort Wilderness Lodge.

And finally, a morning at Epcot, in the British quarter. This was the last park we went to; it was moderately busy that day, but we managed to walk the whole World Circle and take in a couple of the pavilions. My favorite is the Living Earth boat ride, which floats you through a sustainable food garden that uses hydroponics, organics, special trellising, and other practices to grow crops from pumpkins to runner beans in low-water, poor-soil, small-land conditions.

Mid-week, we took a day away from WDW to drive to Kennedy Space Center (AKA Cape Canaveral). The space shuttle program is ready to make its last flights, and we were lucky enough to see the launch pad in its prep stages for the final takeoff of Discovery. The fuel tanks were already loaded on the pad, which is empty most of the time.

A multi-stop bus tour loops through the complex and offers distance viewing and explanations of the shuttle launch pad, manufacturing buildings, and general shuttle prep and setup. We also enjoyed two fascinating 3-D IMAX films on the space station and Hubble, although I was maxed out on 3-D movies by the end of them.

Under the awe-inspiring rockets at Kennedy Space Center.

The highlight of the center is a Shuttle Takeoff Simulator that was designed with the help of shuttle astronauts for absolute accuracy of all roars, rattles, and cheek-flapping G forces. Seats tilt vertically, rocket-thunder rumbles through your ribcage, thrust vies with Gs to pin you to the chair, and you can feel the breakaway shudder of the fuel tanks. Orbit arrives with an instant shutdown of sound and vibration, a queasy float in the belly, and viewing doors that open to display black space filled with the Earth arching across the horizon. This was one cool ride--and no extra charge.

By Friday, we had been to all four Disney parks, toured the nicest of the Disney resorts, and been to Downtown Disney and the Disney Boardwalk more times than we needed to. We were ready for a visit to something completely different--Orlando's Gatorland.

This place has been around since the 1940s and turned out to be a surprisingly good choice despite our initial expectations of an aging, podunk attraction. The park is long and narrow, with several lagoons for alligators and crocodiles. A round of family-focused animal shows (corny jokes, audience participation, cheering competitions, etc.) was still fun to watch because of the stuff you learn about gators, pythons, and tarantulas. Unfortunately, the back side of the park was closed for renovation. They're installing a zipline ride--um, right alongside the saltwater gator/croc ponds. Go figure.

Mr. (Ms.?) Gator on the planks.

Guests can buy hotdogs to feed the gators. Most looked too bloated to want more (or perhaps they deemed our bitty, rationed bites as unworthy of their attention), but the dogs were a hit with the local egrets and other birds. Warnings were up everywhere that the birds would swoop in to steal out of careless hands. One unhappy child lost half a dog to a sneaky bird, and Mark was squirting water from his bottle to keep them from poking at him for more.

On a leisurely boardwalk jaunt through a swamp (thankfully, sans mosquitoes this time of year). This time Lisa's taking the photo, so Mary's in it!

One of the many big boys that were nearly beneath our feet at the breeding lagoon boardwalk. The lagoon has a couple hundred gators.

Egrets nest on both sides of the huge gator breeding lagoon. Some were close enough to the boardwalk to almost see into the nests.

Egret.

Hitching a ride is common.

Back home, caretaker Carol takes Patchouli on a walk. The winds at Southern Oaks RV Park were pretty brutal some days.