Angleton, Texas and the local beachfront

Deb and I have spent the majority of our assignment camped out at a KOA (Kampgrounds of America) on the northern side of Houston. The folks there were nice enough, and after all it was an emergency (we moved in before the power was restored) but the place just didn't give us the warm fuzzies.

For one thing, the KOA campground flooded easily:



For another thing, it was expensive for what I'd consider to be a B- place. We were charged full price for the days when there was no electricity and we had to run our own generator, and that hurt.

So we packed up, ran up to the Flying J truckstop off of I-45 where we took on 100 gallons of fuel (at $3.37/gallon, which is a far cry from the almost $5/gallon fuel that we were seeing earlier this year in Florida), and set sail for an RV park that we had spotted a few days earlier near the small town of Angleton, Texas.

Now this is the life - we are right on a bayou and have been getting up at sunup and fishin' for the last few days:






This campground seemed like a nice, safe location to let the cats out so they've been given the opportunity to roam a bit:



Here's Coyote hangin' with the resident RV park tomcat. Obviously none of them are too traumatized:




We will be keeping a wary eye on the cats in the future, however. I spotted this guy within a few hundred feet of where we have been fishin' :




That's a 'gator friends. The RV park management assured me that the 'gators 'round here were all hibernating but I guess that this guy lost his calender during Hurricane Ike. He's not a real big one, but he's about 5 ft. long, and that's big enough to ruin a housecat's day.

Angleton is a small town not too far removed from Houston so once we return from Mexico we'll come back here and hang out while we look for jobs. The RV park is about 10 miles out of town and almost 5 miles from the nearest biker bar so it's well out in the boondocks.

There are some really interesting seaside towns near here. Surfside Beach is actually large enough to support two small bars/grills, both of which are just reopening following Ike's departure. Freeport is a fair-sized town on the mainland that has an unincorporated portion on the eastern side of the Intracoastal Waterway. No bars and no stores on that side of Freeport without crossing back to the mainland as far as I could see.

In between the two towns is a massive chemical plant and a ship channel. There is no bridge directly connecting the two towns - you need to drive back to the mainland and then recross the Intracoastal to get from Surfside Beach to the coastal community of Freeport, for instance.

Here's the coastal portion of Freeport which, by and large, showed little damage from Ike:



Talk about a bridge to nowhere! Quite a massive structure considering that there is little more than a few dozen houses, a small state park, and a marina on the oceanfront side of Freeport. Some politician must have a house over there:



Surfside Beach seems to be a bit more blue collar. They have a couple of RV and tent campgrounds (full of construction folks at the moment). By and large the houses there look like they took a harder hit from Hurricane Ike. Even among the standing houses you can tell that large portions of roof are gone and the interiors have been ruined.






At least the two bars/grills on Surfside are coming back to life. We were among the first to have a drink at this place as they were unloading the booze (first rule of hurricane evacuation when you own a bar - save the hard likker!)



One thing that I really like about this area is that you can get seriously up close and personal to the ships coming through the channel. There is a small park in Surfside and the locals were all out on the breakwater fishing as the ships passed. Notice the two guys wading in the shallows as the ship passes - can we say "bow wave" guys?:



The Angleton/Surfside area of Texas is pretty entertaining and I have heard from others that it's popular motorcycling territory, so we'll be looking forward to exploring there a bit more when we get back.

Brazoria County, TX

I have wanted to explore the coastal towns and beaches of Texas for several years. Now that Deb and I are in Texas, and our disaster relief commitments in Houston have wound down, 'tis the time it would appear.


We drove into Galveston on Wednesday, October 22nd, a bit over 5 weeks after Hurricane Ike had made landfall.


Let's just say that the boats that were lining the causeway as you come into Galveston are finally being removed.


Eerie.

There's going to be plenty of cleanup and reconstruction in Galveston for years to come.

When we were in Galveston the last time (a few weeks ago) we headed north to the ferry to Ft. Bolivar. At that time the ferry was closed to the general public and it still is. Bodies are reportedly being found, buried under the rubble of the Bolivar Peninsula, almost daily. Residents can now go to Bolivar (until recently it was just the authorities) although tourists and looky lous are being kept out. The curfew was until 2PM; I hear it's been extended to 6PM.

Yeah, things sound grim over on the Bolivar Peninsula.

This time instead of heading north we headed south and drove along the beach strand and the famous Galveston Seawall.

Residences along the highway in southern Galveston were severely damaged. The Red Cross still has a feeding center near the end of the island, and FEMA has an RV with a satellite antenna for communications. Few businesses were open. Debris were piled up (notice the side of the road-you see mile upon mile of stacks of debris).

We then crossed the toll bridge (which was untended and not collecting tolls) at the end of Galveston Island and where you cross over into Brazoria County. Immediately we came to a sign that said that the road was closed. Being the shy types that we are we pushed on.

That roughly 25 mile stretch of coastal road running to the little town of Surfside Beach is pretty much gone for a significant portion of it's existence. There are sections ranging from a lane to a few hundreds of yards that are missing, but at one point the highway vanished completely and we were routed out onto the beach itself. Construction trucks are also using the beach strand as a makeshift highway so things get entertaining when you are on what is essentially one lane of packed sand and meeting a Mack dump truck.

This took up an entire lane. Trust me, you don't want to be driving out here at night:







Notice that the road ends completely and that traffic, such as it is, is being routed to the right. This was fairly intense - we followed a family in a Jeep that decided to turn around, but the local construction guys in their pickups just plowed on.

Finally, the road just ran out and we drove for maybe 5 miles on the beach. Notice the heavy traffic.

Yeah, right.

Also notice how desolate this area is, the trash piled up, and the few standing houses in the background:






Alas, things weren't all fun and games. We did witness one poor schmuck getting his car pulled out with a bulldozer. I hear that once you've turned your Toyota into a salt water submarine then they are never the same:

Enough of the road, which will have to be rebuilt. Take a look at the houses. Notice the lean on this first one, and no, the photographer was neither drunk nor standing with one foot in a hole when the photo was shot:

Here's another one that just don't look quite right:

And this one, which is now accessible primarily by boat:

As bad as those examples are, they are rebuildable. We ran across the following in the otherwise charming seaside village of Surfside Beach, Texas. Notice the pile of rubble where a house once stood:




And finally, this is sad. No amount of polish is going to buff out the damage to this family's home.




Let's keep the good people of coastal Texas in our thoughts.