Faces of Texas

(These photos are ordered from most recent to the past

and the formatting is off. Don't ask.

Fortunately, the stories haven't changed at all.)

. . . . .

"No matter where you go in this world,

you'll always find someone from Texas."

- Andy Hodkinson, with wife Ronda,

commenting on how small this world really is.

Henderson, TX

. . .

"What I fear is people not getting out

and living as good as they could."

- David Baugh playing the devil's advocate

to the view that we should live in fear

of all the crazy people in the world.

I met David on Hwy 31. He was going south on his bicycle

and I was going north on foot. We both pulled over

and talked for an hour in a random driveway.

De Berry, TX

. . .

"You be careful now. Don't take no wooden nickels."

- Businessman Robert Williams giving me some last minute advice.

Robert let me camp out at his business out of the rain.

Newton, TX

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"I'm the youngest one here. And I'm 78!"

- Park caretaker Fred Andrews on his position on the veteran committee

in charge of the Golden Triangle Veterans Memorial Park. We talked for a long time about the park, his family history, and the region.

Orange County, TX

. . .

"People I didn't even know would show up with ten boxes of books and say 'I bet you can use these.' That kind of stuff happened all the time."

- Galveston Bookshop owner Sharon Zwick on reopening her store after Hurrican Ike. The water level had been up to seven feet inside the store, which trashed the entire ground level. The community, grateful that business owners hadn't abandoned the city, came out with lots of unsolicited support. Galveston Bookshop was one of the first businesses to reopen.

Galveston, TX
. . .

Days Thirty-Three through Forty-Seven

Historical Marker, Galveston, Galveston County, Day 33
. . .

Once again, it's that time to crunch the numbers. As seems to be the pattern for this trek, I've taken a lot of breaks, but I've also covered a lot of ground, at least it seems to me. As always, I write the day and the end point for that day, followed by an estimate of how many miles I walked. Let's take a look:

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Water Tower, Galveston, Galveston County, Day 33
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Day 33: Port Bolivar, about 9 miles (plus 2.7 on a ferry)
Day 34: Crystal Beach, about 11 miles
Day 35: Somewhere along McFadden National Wildlife Refuge, let's say about 32 miles
Day 36: Sabine Pass, about 30 miles (I first went to the very edge of the coastline, then had to backtrack due to the lack of a road; I'm guessing I added 10 miles.)
Day 37: A zero day in Groves (near Port Arthur)
Day 38: Port Arthur, about 14 miles
Day 39: Groves, about 11 miles (I backtracked to the post office, adding 6 miles.)
Day 40: Orange, about 18 miles (an extra mile to get to my couchsurfing hosts' place.)
Days 41-43: A few zero days in Orange
Day 44: Just shy of Hartburg, about 12 miles
Day 45: Somewhere on Hwy 87, about 15 miles
Day 46: Bleakwood, about 15 miles
Day 47: Newton, about 15 miles

. . .

These two weeks seem much much longer. I can't believe I saw my cousin Cat and her aunt and uncle back in Houston, nor my parents in Sabine Pass, nor (and more recently) my couchsurfing hosts in Orange. Time bends in very peculiar ways, and my mind has a very hard time wrapping itself around its folds.

. . .

Here are a few journaling thoughts to give you an idea of what's going on in my head (And sorry for not putting days on earlier journal entries. I'm experimenting with what works and what doesn't. This is all a work in progress.) . Some thoughts will stand in direct conflict with others. Please keep in mind that these are all snippets from different days, different events, different moods, and different emotions.

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Ferry Crossing Sunset, Galveston, Galveston County, Day 33
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* Day 33: The sunset is perfect today. The clouds are smudged whites and grays. The birds at the ferry landing are silhouetted by the sun's light. It is a spectacular ending to an uneventful day of wandering. I am lucky, lucky, lucky.

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Lighthouse, Port Bolivar, Galveston County, Day 34
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* Day 34: There are so many elements to this night. The ocean waves, the moon mostly full, the fire ling, the hard wet sand, the strong winds. And me. I have to be in this scene to know it, to hear the waves and feel the sand, to build the fire and feed its flames. I am alone but not entirely lonely, my senses responding to my surroundings and filling me with moments of now.

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I Buy Houses, Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston County, Day 35
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Washed Away, Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston County, Day 35
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Pelicans, Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston County, Day 35
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Pelicans in Flight, Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston County, Day 35
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Beach Buggy, Bolivar Peninsula, Galveston County, Day 35
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Private Property, Jefferson County, Day 36
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* Day 38: The rain doesn't bother me as much as you'd think, but it cripples whatever dignity I have as a traveler. You should have seen the motel manager/owner [in Port Arthur]. You'd have thought he was having both a heart attack and seizure by renting to me. I don't know how to diffuse the situation either. I tell the truth, but often the truth is too much for people to believe. The RV park assistant manager I spoke with earlier laughed when I said she might read about me in the local paper. I don't see this situation going away any time soon.

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Golden Triangle Veterans Memorial Park, Port Neches, Jefferson County, Day 40
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* Day 40: Once again, I am hesitant to leave a safe space. I'm enjoying having people to talk to, ways to entertain myself, distract myself. I'm also a little nervous again about the road and being alone. Will this ever become normal?

. . .

* Day 43: I meant to take off but got bummed by the rain. It was really coming down. I asked my hosts if I could stay again, and (yes!) they accepted. I bought groceries and made homemade pizza (crust, too) for us. I definitely pushed the boundaries of hospitality, but I think it was ok in the end.

. . .

[Side Note on Couchsurfing: Allison and Jayne were amazing hosts (pictures in previous post). They really helped me out, treated me well, and of course, gave me a space to crash. If everyone were like them, I think Couchsurfing would be much more popular.]

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Walk with God, Pine Grove, Newton County, Day 47
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Evacuation Route, Newton, Newton County, Day 47
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* Day 47: Why does hiking have to be so ? When I'm able to chat with people a bit, they open up to my project and ultimately me. It feels good to connect. I just don't know how full-time homeless people do it. It's the solitude that's worse than any panther scream or beach flashing. Yes, I can deal with it - I have to. But I did not expect it to be so crushing, a defeat to be lived over and over in the presence of those who could make it go away.

. . .

[Note on Above Entry: This was the end of a good day. I had some nice conversations with people in a cafe, and all went over well. It stands in direct contrast to a interaction I had at a convenience store which still s in my mind. This entry is a reflection not on the people of Newton that I met but on my earlier encounter.]

. . .
Crawfish, Newton, Newton County, Day 47
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And that's all from the edge! I really appreciate all the comments on this blog, Facebook, Twitter, etc. They really cheer me up and keep me motivated to keep going. I laughed especially hard at the kinetic flashlight comment (see comments under The Scary Incident at the Beach). Be strong, be good, and do something you've always wanted to do.

Until next we meet...

Days Twenty-Three through Thirty-Two

Windmill, Palacios, Matagorda County, Day 20

. . .

I am currently in Houston, living large with my cousin Cat. When I showed up to Galveston, I was limping a little from the four or five blisters I had picked up along the way. Normally, my calluses are enough to stave off any nasty, bubbly blistery trouble, but I pushed a little extra hard to get there, walking around 50 miles in two days. Maybe the previous days' wanderings contributed too. Here they are in brief:

Day 23: Somewhere just shy of Old Ocean, about 14 miles

Day 24: Brazoria (via the back roads), about 15 miles

Day 25: A zero day in Houston

Day 26: Quintana, 20 miles

Day 27: Just shy of San Luis Pass (I went back up to Freeport for mail), about 25 miles

Day 28: Galveston, about 25 miles

Days 29 - 32: A zero weekend in Houston

Wetlands Project Sign, Matagorda County, Day 21

(Note: The domes in the background belong to a nuclear power plant on 521.)

. . .

I am taking full advantage of having family in the area. My parents swung by on Day 24 because my dad had some business at MD Anderson in Houston. I went to a hospital class with both parents (and tweeted about it) and was later taken back to where I left off. I then got picked up by my cousin in Galveston on Day 28, and we've been hanging out since. Also, a huge thank you to Nate and Fatma who let me crash in their garage in Bay City on the night of Day 22.

Truck on Pier, Galveston, Galveston County, Day 28

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Triangular Beach Houses, Surfside Beach, Brazoria County, Day 27

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A few thoughts in the last week:

* There are two types of interactions on this trip, my virtual ones (family and friends via phone, email, and texting) and my real life ones. The difference is stark. The presence of someone - even a stranger - is sometimes preferable to a virtual contact simply because that person is right there. This kind of interaction and communication has a more profound impact for reasons I have yet to understand.

Since breakfast with Nate this morning and a short conversation with a fellow at the donut shop, I've had no other meaningful face-to-face conversations with people all day. I've mostly talked on the phone (five conversations) and texted (over a dozen). I'm subsisting on a virtual community, but I need the one I'm in.

Cross on Telephone Pole, Matagorda County, Day 21

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* It's been great to see my folks during the trip, but I wonder what it's doing to the trek's continuity. I suppose you could argue that it is what it is, that there aren't rules to this thing. But I feel myself getting yo-yoed back and forth between the two worlds.

I was a homeless person to the Sonic staff today. That is, until my parents showed up, gave me hugs and kisses, and reduced their idea of me to a large, dirty

boy scout. Not that a person should think one thing or another, but whatever reality we're creating is getting disrupted or in this case abruptly redefined. I don't know how I feel about that. Then again, it is what it is.

Texan Mailbox, Matagorda County, Day 23

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Stone Hedge?, Brazoria County, Day 27

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* How much am I really learning about Texas? I read a few books, talked to a few people. There's too much! It's too epic! I'm a little kid begging for tales, and there's no time to hear them all.

But I am learning something. There's a heartbeat around here somewhere.

Fresh Seafood, Matagorda County, Day 23

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Church, Matagorda County, Day 21

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That's all for this installment. There is much much more coming up. Please stay tuned.

Beach Landmark, Brazoria County, Day 27

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Until next time, readers...