Saturday Summary - Week 15 - Wide open beaches, Bison & Longhorn, and Boondocking

Feb 7th - Feb 13th - Mustang Island, TX (70’s) → Bandera, TX (70’s) → San Angelo, TX (80’s) → Midland, TX (70s)

This week felt like the kind of week you imagine when you picture “life on the road.” There were beaches and cowboys and long empty highways. There were oil fields and libraries and free desert camping. There were moments that felt cinematic and others that felt very ordinary. And somehow, that mix is what makes it real.

Mustang Island — The Beach Day We Didn’t Know We Needed

Saturday on Padre Island was close to perfect.

We had a lazy breakfast and then biked on the beach. Not along it, but on it. Cars are allowed, bikes are allowed, and even primitive camping is allowed right on the sand. We didn’t risk taking the bus out there, even though there were other campers around. Soft sand and heavy vehicles don’t mix, and I don’t want to add getting stuck in the sand to my Monday Mishaps post.

Biking on the hard-packed shoreline felt magical. We had to walk through some soft sand to get to the hard-packed stuff, but not that long. There was almost no one around. A wide, endless stretch of beach. Blue sky. Lucky was riding in her basket with her cute little ears flapping in the wind.

Don rode through the rolling surf and splashed salt water all over his bike. It looked like pure joy, until his electrical system temporarily stopped working. Salt water and electronics are not best friends. Thankfully, unplugging and letting it rest solved everything. Crisis avoided.

Remember my bike’s pedal-assist issue from last week? Lectric bike customer support is outstanding.  It was simply a loose cable. Lectric Customer Support sent diagrams, step-by-step instructions, and it was fixed in minutes. I love these bikes. They give us so much freedom. I just need to give them the tune-up they deserve. (Las Cruces. That’s the town where we’ll finally do all the “we’ll handle it in the next town” tasks.)

We flew the drone. We used the GoPro. We captured Lucky footage that will make you laugh. We met a woman named Dianna, who was a wealth of knowledge and advice. I finished the paint-by-number I started back in September. Yes, I’m slow.  The only thing we didn’t do? Kayak. There’s always one thing, but the low tide didn’t make it possible. That night, we attended a stargazing program at the State Park. A few little girls were there from their curiosity and excitement to learn. I got the feeling they were homeschooled. I miss those days! The ranger giving the program was great with the kids, just answering their questions enough without getting the program off track. It reminded me how important it is to nurture wonder.

Bandera — Cowboy Capital Energy

Claudia, when you offered for us to swing back through Austin, we thought about it. Hard. Laundry and home-cooked meals are powerful incentives. But we stayed the course. Arriving after 3 p.m. and leaving at 6 a.m. didn’t feel respectful. 

Bandera calls itself the “Cowboy Capital of the World.” Founded in the 1800s, it became a key stop along the Great Western Cattle Trail. Today, it leans fully into that identity; honky-tonks, western boutiques, historic markers everywhere.

We wandered the tiny downtown with Lucky. We searched high and low for a miniature cowboy hat for one of our mascots. (Yes, I owe you all a proper mascots post.) We finally found a small Christmas ornament hat with “Bandera, TX” on it. Not what I envisioned, but perfect for bus life,  small is good. We had a beer at Arkey Blue’s Silver Dollar Saloon, reportedly the oldest continuously operating honky-tonk in Texas. A guitarist was playing live. It felt like stepping into a movie.

At the Western Trail Heritage Park, I took photos of historical markers for Dad. I want to read them more closely, but we needed to check into our Harvest Host. Cowboy culture came north from Mexico — I’m always curious whether that credit is fully given.

We stayed at Bandera Brewing Company. Big patios. Outdoor stage. Good weather. Not the best parking situation, but the atmosphere made up for it. We ate burgers and fries and vowed to eat healthier the rest of the week. We are not on a year-long vacation. We are living.

We watched the Super Bowl there. I don’t know much about football, but I do know pride when I see it. The halftime performance, the flags, the nod to all of America (not just the U.S.) meant something. Bad Bunny knew how important this was, and he delivered! When Hanna called, emotional over seeing the Nicaraguan flag front and center, that meant something too. There are layers to identity. And I was proud to see it represented on a whole stage.

San Angelo — Hills, Hammocks, and Longhorns

We left before sunrise. Texas Hill Country at golden hour might be the most beautiful stretch of road we’ve driven here. Limestone cuts. Rolling hills. Long views. After weeks of flat terrain, it felt alive.

We worked from a laundromat parking lot so Don could take meetings and I could handle laundry. $15 and three loads later, we were reset. It’s funny how routine tasks become talking points on the road.

San Angelo State Park is another favorite stop so far. I set up the hammock for the first time this trip. The hammock always makes me think of Henry, he gifted it to us in preparation for the trip, and I love reading a book and thinking of my amazing son. 

We biked ten miles around the park. Saw bison. Saw deer (too close for comfort at one point). Visited O.C. Fisher Lake, it feels strange to see that much water surrounded by desert landscape. We biked to a lookout just before sunset and had it entirely to ourselves. Lucky rode in her basket like royalty.

We stayed an extra hour on Wednesday morning to watch the Longhorn feeding. The ranger spoke of them as his friends and neighbors. He knew their personalities. I loved that. You can tell when someone cares about what they’re stewarding.

Midland — Oil Country

The drive to Midland was long and flat again, but this time dotted with oil pumps. So many. It’s one thing to hear about Texas oil, and it’s another to see it everywhere.

We stayed overnight at the Permian Basin Petroleum Museum. The museum was impressive and well-funded. It has excellent immersive, educational exhibits. Sponsored by major energy companies, yes, but it didn’t shy away from discussing future energy balance.

I wrestled with this one. It’s easy to criticize oil. It’s harder to acknowledge how deeply we depend on it. We are driving a bus across the country. We are not neutral participants. I don’t have neat answers. Just awareness.

We did, however, have a fantastic mascot photoshoot, climbing the oil tower like Godzilla. Claudia and Grandma, we enjoyed posing your contributions to our mascot team.

Whites City, New Mexico — First BLM Camp

Finally. A new state. Texas is enormous. We were ready for a shift.

We stopped in Eunice, NM, for Don’s meetings. I worked from the small local library on my final CDME paper:  tourism funding challenges. A topic I know well from Cayuga County. It feels good to write from lived experience.

The librarians were kind, mostly. When I asked if Eunice could be pronounced “You Nice,” one answered very sharply, “No.” I suppose not everyone lives up to their town’s name. We grabbed a quick lunch, picked up minimal groceries (the fresh perimeter section of the store was almost nonexistent), and headed toward Whites City.

This was our first BLM boondocking experience. No electricity. No bathrooms. No showers. No picnic tables. Just flat desert land, open sky, and about twenty other campers scattered across it.

And I loved it. I need three things: relatively flat ground, safety, and a story. 

This place had all three. As we approached the Carlsbad region, I saw something in the distance that stopped me. A mountain. It was the Guadalupe Mountains, I figured out later. After weeks of flat horizon, seeing elevation felt like a gift. I know I’ll probably curse mountains later when Skuhlie has to climb them, but right now? I’m ready.

Baby steps into unfamiliar territory feels right. We’re rolling steady. We’re learning how to need less and notice more. And Mausi, Grandma, Claudia,  we carry you with us. Always.