South Padre Island 6-01-07

This weekend we ventured down (way, way down) to South Padre Island. We left Austin on Friday around 13:00 via 35, to 37, 77, and finally, 100, to arrive at Beach Access #6 around 19:30. The tide was low and we drive on the hard pack along shore; a few more miles up the beach and we found Robersan's truck, empty. K-lube emerges from the ocean and led the way to the established camp site behind a nearby set of dunes. The wind was blowing 15-20 miles per hour, battering us all to hell and whipping the top layer of sand up into the air. We barely got the new tent assembed (a Magellan Yosemite, a decent, cheap tent for 2-3) just as the sun went down, and we got the fire going for a few brots and buns. About that time Cecil and Will called from up the beach: they were stuck in the sand. K-lube and Robersan became stuck themselves going to the rescue and shortly returned to camp. After dinner the stuck pigs showed up, having dug their way out with a handy shovel. They removed the sand behind the tires and rocked it backwards before charging further down the trail. Good strategy, and it would pay off the next day in spades (har har). Unfortunately, they weren't as lucky with their tent and were unable to get it upright in the terrible winds. During all this, we discovered that having one side caved in by wind was letting sand rain into our own tent at a prodigious rate. Despite being a few beers deep (or perhaps because of it) we were able to unstake and relocate it, posting it snug up against a nearby dune. After some sandy food, there was only one thing left to do: party balls and forget about the ridiculous conditions. The full moon was up and we had plenty of beer and ice, so it was pretty much a slam dunk. The shore and dunes at night in bright moonlight were spectacular, completely worth the price of admission.

I woke up a little groggy at sunrise, looked in on Cecil and Wilson who had braved the elements sleeping in the back of the trucks, and went down to throw a few lures in the water. The wind was still whipping hard and the surf was awesome, but fishing was a non-starter. I had to clear the line of seaweed and trash after every cast; nothing was happening. So I swam a bit as the sun climbed out of the ocean. Fun but quite violent. Later, everyone else woke up covered in sand and feeling a mite peckish, and we decided to high-tail it out of there. The trip back through the deep sand (the tide was up and we had to take the high road) was total white-knuckle because we had to keep moving in order to remain unstuck. Finally after twenty minutes of ass-hauling and nail biting we arrived back at the beach entrance and parted ways. We took 77 all the way up to 183 on the trip back and although there were more small towns and downshifting involved, it was much more scenic, a great transition from south texas farms and game ranches to the hill country forests. I believe it crossed the Guadalupe three times and each bridge was different; the river was flooded up something fierce from last week's rains.

Padre lessons: four-wheel drive is a must, as is coordinating your stay with the full moon, and don't forget the hand brush for de-saandification. Compared to Port Aransas, which I've visited more often, the sand in Padre is much finer and you're just never rid of it. The water is slightly more clear but I didn't notice too much of a difference from beaches further up the coast. Up the beach away from the main park, you can get very well isolated from other campers, but there's no electricity, showers or even chemical toilets, so it's essentially a primitive experience, which can be its own pleasure if you're prepared for it. You've never deuced until you've deuced out of doors. You can't simply pretend you didn't just deuce on the ground right there. It's really the essence of deuce undistilled and in your face. Thankfully the issue never came up for me this time.