THE TEXAS COAST traverses along an arc on the northwest edge of the Gulf of Mexico, covering the distance of about 367 miles, but there are actually over 3,300 miles of shoreline along its islands, bays and river mouths. Unlike most coasts in this country, the Texas coast does not have a coastal highway.

Sure, there is the seawall in Galveston which can be driven west to Freeport but that is less than fifty miles. If one would include the crossing of the Bolivar ferry and drive to the end of Bolivar beach on SR 87, then this coastal route would still be less than eighty miles and no where close to traversing the 367 mile coastline.

Up very late this morning due to the late night drive south towards the border. My first stop is for coffee in the d-mart where I parked for the night. After my second cup, I again begin moving toward the lower latitudes on Texas.

Leaving Victoria, I continue on US 59, which begins the future designation of IH 69W and continue to George West, Texas, where US 281 takes a more southernly route to McAllen, Texas. From this intersection, US 281 will be the new IH 69C from George West to McAllen. I though continue on US 59 to Laredo, Texas, continuing on the route that will be designated IH 69W.

However, from George West, Texas on to Laredo on this journey, I drive on the US 59 route to Laredo, Texas as none of the interstate has been built yet.

Upon arriving in Laredo, I locate the d-mart, one which I have used for parking many times in the past, and when I search my GPS, I find that many of the amenities that I prefer are very close by.

Because Saturday is considered a normal banking day in Laredo, I spend the entire day visiting the many available banks looking for one in which to deposit my inheritance money. I begin with IBC which has a branch in the store where I parked last night. Right away, I am impressed that this bank is open seven days a week. It stays open on Monday through Saturday for thirteen hours and Sunday for eight.

Even with such great hours, I still visit many of the other banks, the national banks, continue to be the worst possible choice. After many stops, I decide to go with the local bank because not only does it have the long hours at several branches, but it has the best value with the most services. That is the reason why twenty years ago, I selected WIB in Oak Harbor and maintain accounts there. Two very nice young men, Pablo and Caleb help me open an account.

Then just after sunset, I locate the hall and then retire for the evening parked in the cul-de-sac near by.

Upon awaking, I get dressed for the meeting and then go for coffee, returning to drink my cup but do not have enough time to finish the entire cup because the meeting begins at nine-thirty. I meet many of the friends and one brother from Michigan who is also on his way into Mexico. After the meeting I take a long nap and awake to the sun shining hot into the van. Previously, I acquired a list of allowed imports and then went shopping for groceries to take with me into México.

I have been contemplating my route once I enter México and have determined that I will first go to Monterrey where I will stay for the district convention that is being held there during the first weekend of January. Next, I will drive south to San Miguelle de Allente. From there I will drive to the state of Michoacán in order to search for the monarch butterflies. Next, I will check our some of the English congregations on the list I have. Some time during the time I am in the south central park of México, I would like to drive to México City to visit the branch. That is my story and I am sticking with it. After sunset, it begins raining and I retire to the d-mart which does not empty until after midnight; the rain does not stop til morning.

It was very warm last night and I did not get to sleep until late so I am tired this morning when I awake at seven. I get up and drive to a restaurant for coffee which also has WiFi and check my e-mail.

It is still eleven days until my crossing so I am thinking that I will drive to the coast to see some winter waves and to check out what kinds of birds live on the south Texas coast.

I arrive at Padre Island in the early afternoon and realize that the last time I visited this island was forty-one years ago during the late summer of 1968. I remember there was a bridge to the island and then the road ended at the beach. Too, I recall there was a hamburger vender in a trailer right on the beach and a lot of cars on the beach with people in tents camping. Well, now it is called Padre Island National Seashore with a ten dollar access fee, lots of roads, a visitors center, grocery, flush toilets and showers. I do appreciate the shower even though it is only cold water.

In less than a minute under the water, I am adjusted to the water temperature and my shower lasts about five minutes. I tell the concession operator that my journey is now in it′s sixteenth week and during all that time, I can count all the hot showers I have had and they would number less than the number of fingers I have. What I do not tell her is that most of my showers have been taken with cold water from a gallon jug alongside the Windjammer. Even more often, I have used rubbing alcohol to clean myselƒ. Yes, hot showers are no longer a need for this wayfarer, as I have learned to get along without them. Instead they have been enrolled into the category of special treat and I do enjoy an occasional special treat. ⁸

In my search for camera subjects for my birding gallery, I am able to come upon quite a few birds in the park: there are a lot of great blue herons, many sanderlings and willets, a great egret standing perfectly still, a few black necked stilts and a lot of brown pelicans. I leave Padre Island National Seashore feeling really clean, but I want to return here in the future and if it was up to me, it would be often. In the evening, I drive south towards the valley.

People in these parts only know of one valley because when anyone mentions The Valley you can be assured that they mean the Rio Grand Valley along the Texas-Mexico border, particularly the section of the Rio Grande river below Falcon Lake. It is a long, foggy drive arriving at the national park after eleven and decide to park just outside the gate on the street and then go to sleep. The roadway is under construction and because the area where I am parked is about thirty feet from the lanes of traffic, I feel safe to park here. It is still quite warm and the rain continues most of the night again.

Up before eight and enter Palo Alto Battlefield National Historical Park to use the facilities. I then walk around the center to explore and see in the back, a map on the concrete deck which shows the entire south Texas area. Soon, the park ranger opens the door to let me in.

This park features the battle when the Mexican army crossed the Rio Grande and attacked US soldiers patrolling here, killing one soilder. I read many of the displays and learn here more about this Mexican-US war than I did during any of my school American history classes. I find out that the Mexicans considered Texas to be part of their country and that those who settled it were granted homestead rights but would have to become citizens of México.

However, Texan′s and most other US citizens believe in their manifest destiny which means that they would settle and own all of the lands from the Atlantic to the Pacific and do so despite any previous claims.

Long story short, the US army had to capture México City before the Mexicans submitted to the demands of the United States. México was forced to succeed all of Texas and other lands which later became New México, Arizona and California.

What I did not know is that the US troops moved into México and captured Monterrey and México City and that the US forced México to sell the rest of the lands.

Despite being a US citizen, I am continually shocked and appalled by the aggressive nature of this country to get what ever it wants by what ever means it deems necessary.

Then upon leaving Palo Alto, I drive past the Port Isabella lighthouse, and onto South Padre Island, the extremely overdeveloped south end of the island, where I find the South Padre nature preserve, stop and walk the boardwalks photographing the wildlife.

There are quite a few types of birds and a few other species of animals including a great egret, a moorhen, brown pelicans everywhere, box turtles, a northern pintail and one lone Monarch butterfly.

Later, I drive to the Southmost Road and find the coordinates to be 25° 51′ 36" N, 97° 23′ 02" W on the public roadway. I venture down a dirt road and go to 25° 51′ 20" N, 97° 23′ 02" W where I met an immigrations officer sitting in a truck right in front of the bird sanctuary I am trying to reach. He said the park is closed, so I turn around but methinks I could have gotten below the N. 25° 50′ line. ⁹

Finally, I leave the bottom of Texas and to drive up the Rio Grande Valley to search for more birding centers because I have heard that the Valley has many such locations, many more than the ten of the World Birding Centers. I do find another one that is closing for the day so I leave for San Benito to find a hall for the meeting tonight.

The friends here are so nice that I have decided to include this congregation on my list of must return to visit again. After the meeting, we all sing three songs from the new song book, which it is so cool! Then, I join several of the friends who go out to a f-mart for something to eat.

Afterwards, I returned to Resaca de la Palma State Park, which is one of the World Birding Centers, where I park in a small parking lot just outside the park gate and begin writing in my journal. Outside, a storm blows hard with heavy pounding rain and there is absolute no traffic on this back road. At just past midnight, I pull the sleeping bag over my head and I am only asleep for a few minutes when there is a knock on the outside of the Windjammer.

When I open the sliding door window I see that it is a pair of city Police who ask what I am doing here. I explain that I am going to the Birding Center in the morning and got here late. They warn me about all the bad guys who travel these back roads and then wish me a pleasant evening. I tell them, "Thanks guys!"