Becoming real Texans, Part I

The last time I took a driving test, I was 16. To say I had a case of performance anxiety would be putting it mildly. I drove the family car, a 1961 Plymouth Valiant station wagon, to the Department of Motor Vehicles office in Topeka, Kansas, parked and waiting for the examiner to join me. I started the engine and proceeded to pull out of the lot, at which time the examiner pointed out that the parking brake was still set. I was mortified, so much so that I released the brake but forgot to stop the car first! We lurched forward. I regained enough composure to proceed through the rest of the test. When it was over, the examiner said, “I've seen better, but I've seen worse.” (He passed me, but I gather it was a close call.)

It seems life has handed me yet another opportunity to humiliate myself. That's because I have to do it all again, this time driving KongZilla. This has to do with our decision to switch domicile from South Dakota to Texas. (If you want to know why we initially selected South Dakota, see “Domiciling in the State of Emergency.”) Why? Health insurance, that's why.

When Leonard, Sprocket and I returned to the U.S. after three years in Costa Rica, my only affordable health insurance option was a high-deductible plan that covers catastrophic illness. It might have kept us from filing bankruptcy should I become really sick, but that's about all. Once the Affordable Care Act insurance marketplaces opened, I went shopping and discovered that none of the South Dakota providers in the network reaches beyond the state's borders. Worse yet, none of the companies writing plans for South Dakotans cover full-timers. In the words of that great philosopher Scooby Doo, ruh roh!

I searched the Information Highway and ended up in Texas where a major insurer in Texas' ACA marketplace was offering just what I was looking for: coverage for anyone (including full-time RVers) at lower costs than my existing plan and access to a provider network that reaches 30 states (and counting). Save money by paying lower premiums and in-network rates nearly anywhere we might travel? Count me in! Now, all we had to do was become real, legal Texans. Sure, except that this sh*t gets complicated! Here's why.

 

Before we could get Texas drivers' licenses, we would have to register the truck and 5^th wheel in Texas. Before we could register the truck and 5^th wheel in Texas, we would have to get them inspected in Texas and get Texas liability insurance. Before we could get Texas liability insurance, we would have to get a Texas address without buying or renting property. Like I said. Complicated.

The entrance to Escapees Rainbow's End RV Park. So many RVers

use the club's mail service that the mailroom it has its own zip code.)

The address part was the easiest. We simply joined Escapees RV Club and signed up for the club's mail service (similar to a service we used in South Dakota). This got us a street address with personal mail box number. Voila! A Texas residential address.

During our San Antonio stay, Leonard took Truckzilla to a local inspection station. Driving a truck onto a lot where a certified inspector can take care of business is one thing. Getting Kong inspected was a whole other deal. Our choices – assuming we could find a station in San Antonio authorized to inspect trailers - would be to a) pack up all our stuff, disconnect utilities, hitch, tow the 5^th wheel in for inspection, drive back to our parking spot, unpack our stuff and reconnect utilities; or b) pack up, hitch, tow Kong in for inspection then drive on to Rockport (our next destination). We chose “b.” Thankfully, there was a station right along our route. An hour stop there, and it was mission accomplished!

In 2013, the Texas legislature changed the state's RV inspection

requirements. Unless lobbying efforts succeed, every RVer

registered in Texas but not visiting there will have to return

for annual inspection.

Next, Leonard (Chief Operations Officer of our little enterprise) checked out insurance options and found we could use Escapees' endorsed insurance broker to get the policies we needed. The broker's office is located at Escapees' headquarters, just a short walk from where we'd be parked at their Rainbow's End park in Livingston. Here again, we ended up with better coverage for less money. So far, so good.

With proof of insurance in hand, we gathered up the rest of the necessary paperwork (titles, SD registrations, inspection certificates and proof of residency) and walked into the Polk County Assessor's Office and walked out with brand spanking new Texas license plates.

If all of this sounds like fun, just wait to you ready my next post where I will attempt to explain the ABCs of Texas RV drivers' licensure, a subject so complicated it warrants its own section.

 

To be continued....

 

Escapees RV Club National Headquarters. The club trolley gives guest tours of the property twice a week.



Rainbow's End is enormous! It includes this community center - watch for announcements about free movie nights, dancing and other fun activities - a swimming pool and activity room where residents gather for daily socials.

Sweet tooth? Satisfy your cravings here with the week's selection of soft serve ice cream flavors.

RV safety includes knowing how much your rigs weighs as well as how that weight is distributed. Escapees offers several weighing locations, including this site at Rainbow's End.

 

The Escapees CARE (Continuing Assistance for Retired Escapees) Center helps full-time RVers who need help when they cannot take care of themselves. Residents continue to live in their RVs while accessing the center's services during the day.

 

Escapees shares the Rainbow's End property with other business that cater to the RV market. Want to RV in England? Adventure Caravans can arrange that. They'll even help arrange for your trip insurance.

Testing our limits on the Texas gulf coast

Want to know what I love most about full-time RV living? It's being able to live on some of the most beautiful spots around without making a long-term commitment or paying a king's ransom for the privilege.

Itching to climb mountains? Go to mountains. Yearning to hike the desert? Find one. Wanting to hear water gently lapping on a lakeshore? Get out your map and drive! I find this way of life to be emotionally truly freeing.

Another great backyard at an affordable price!

Our latest experience along these lines was found at Goose Island State Park near the community of Rockport, Texas. Leonard, Sprocket and I parked at the very edge of the Gulf of Mexico for just $22 per night, plus a $5 per person daily entrance fee.

To some, $32 probably seems like a lot to spend for camping at a public park. Consider that not only did this cover water, electricity, grill and a lovely ramada complete with picnic table, it also featured entertainment courtesy of Laughing gulls - their call sounds more like Burgess Meredith in his role as The Penguin in the old Batman TV program than it does a laugh - pelicans diving for dinner, red-headed ducks bobbing in the water, cormorants and other birds that call the Texas seashore home during the winter months. Then there were the Bottlenose dolphins enjoying their sushi breakfasts while swimming the waters off the back of our parking spot. Paying a heftier price to stay in a similarly-situated private park ($50 per night in most cases) would not have enriched our experience. Not one bit.

Stinky beach? Only in summer when sea vegetation rots under the hot Texas sun.

Too good to be true? Not quite, but there were a couple of catches.

The first relates to a Texas state parks rule limiting camping to 14 consecutive days. Those of you sneaky enough to figure out that being “tardy” to class only matters if you get there after the teacher does probably already have reckoned that the way to skirt this rule is to move out of the park for some period of time only to return for another 14 days. (But why do that when so many other cool spots await discovery?)

Goose Island State Park is home to “The Big Tree,” a live oak whose trunk measure 11 feet in diameter and 35 feet in circumference. It stands 44 feet tall and has seen more than 1,000 summers. Truly awesome!

The Texas gulf coast attracts many species of birds...and birders during the 

winter months. Volunteers lead free birding walks at Goose Island.

The second concerns RV tanks, specifically black and gray tank capacities. Note that when mentioning Goose Island's amenities I said nothing about a sewer connection, a feature that allows RVers to clear a rig's waste without having to move to a dump site. Our stay at Goose Island would offer us a chance to test our fitness for “dry camping” (i.e. park with no hookups at all) as prelude to many such experiences in store for us during July and August when we plan to spend a significant amount of time exploring the national parks of the West.

Successful dry camping requires significantly changing many daily living habits we normally don't give a second thought to. Think about it. Every time you brush your teeth, wash a cup or go to the bathroom brings you that much closer to needing to pack up your possessions, in preparation for the rolling earthquake to come, disconnect any hookups you have and go to the dump station only to return to your space and repeat the entire setup and unpacking process. Who needs that?

Reaching Port Aransas requires a ferry ride to Mustang Island. The ride is 

free and takes less than 10 minutes.

Kong can hold up to 50 gallons of black water (the stuff you flush down the toilet) and 75 gallons of gray (the stuff that goes down the shower, sink and laundry drains). We knew how long it would take to fill the black tank. That's because when we're parked, we let that tank fill then dump using the onsite hookup. (This helps to avoid the "black mound of death" I wrote about in an earlier post on dumping.) We did not know how long it would take to fill the gray tank. Our strategy was simple: do as much as possible to keep as little as possible from going into both tanks!

Browsing at Felder Gallery in Port Aransas. Leonard studied painting with Larry, a fellow expat we met during our Costa Rica days. The gallery is now owned by Larry's son Robby.

This would probably be an appropriate time to mention that Kong came with sensors that let us monitor tank levels. The black tank sensor has never functioned correctly, and we're not really sure about the gray tank. Only the fresh water tank level appears to read accurately. Since Kong's still under warranty, we plan to address the matter in an upcoming visit to our dealer in NW Arkansas.

Truckzilla enjoys a visit to the beach.

As for our quasi-dry camping at Goose Island, some changes of habit were easy, like not leaving the faucets running while we brushed our teeth or soaped up our hands. Others required more forethought, like remembering to pack up everything we needed to shower before schlepping off to the nearby (and spotlessly-clean) bathhouse instead of our in-house (also spotlessly-clean, thank you very much) shower. During our six day/five night stay, we got in two runs of the dishwasher and one load of laundry and still managed to come in under limit. Success!

So, you see, there are some tradeoffs to living like nomads. I suppose someday we might consider a more stable arrangement, like leasing or buying a spot at an RV resort. For now, I'm not ready to give up the freedom of the road. There will time enough for that soon enough.

Remembering the Alamo

The Gonzales flag, on display at capitol visitor center, was first flown at the Battle of

Gonzales in 1835. The flag came to symbolize Texas pride.

Yesterday marked the 178^th anniversary of the fall of the Alamo (also known as Mission San Antonio de Valero). The mission remained under siege for 13 days as Texians, fighting to restore constitutional rule in their sovereign nation of Mexico, and Mexican troops, commanded by Mexican President General Antonio López de Santa Anna, played out their historic drama. To Santa Anna, the battle amounted to little more than a skirmish with rebels resisting his dictatorship. To the Texians and others who would rally under the cry “Remember the Alamo!” it would open one of the more dramatic chapters in Texas' history.

Ultimately, the Republic of Texas would gain its independence from Mexico and become part of the United States of America.

Two lessons I've learned about Texans: 1) they are proud to be Texans; and 2) they know how to throw a great party!

Our month-long stay in San Antonio gave Leonard and me a chance to see and learn more about the Alamo, an experience made somewhat more meaningful to me by that fact that one of my ancestors fought in the Mexican-American War and was bivouacked for a time at the Alamo. Our studies of the events of 1836 included watching a film at a nearby IMAX theater. Sitting there, I couldn't help but wonder what great-great-great Grandpa Andrew Jackson Finney would think of my walking where his footsteps fell so many years ago.

 

In addition to learning about the Alamo, we also took advantage of our proximity to Austin to visit the state capitol. While touring the capitol grounds, the sound of canon fire alerted us to the fact that something unusual must be going on. (We're kind of sharp that way.) A few cannon blasts later, and we realized that we had stumbled into Austin's annual Texas Independence Day parade winding its way through downtown. It was great fun, and a terrific way to wrap up our time in south central Texas.

 

We look forward to more adventures in the Lone Star State, including our upcoming driving tests to acquire Texas licenses. Yes, we'll have to take both written and road tests. This ordeal is part of shifting domicile from South Dakota to Texas (more on that in an upcoming post).

 

For now, I'll leave you with some images from our day trip to Austin. Enjoy, y'all!

 

The State Capitol in Austin stands as one of the city's most beautiful architectural works.

Everyone gets into the act when it comes to celebrating Texas independence, even these antique car buffs!

  

No Texas parade would be complete without caballeros!

 

Lots of veterans marched in the parade, including one who apparently returned from the grave. (Douglas, is that you?)

The capitol grounds features several monuments, this one dedicated to the state's early white settlers.

 

Where RV going to stay (once we get there)?

The time has come to think about departing San Antonio. We have enjoyed exploring this lovely city and its many historic, cultural and recreational offerings. May 1 is fast approaching, and we still have a lot of ground to cover before reaching Aztec Ruins National Monument. So, next Monday, the journey resumes.

Leonard, Sprocket and I will travel more than 1,700 miles of highway between March and May, passing through Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas before heading for northwest New Mexico. Trip planning for us has been fairly easy, mostly because Leonard and I have similar travel styles. Neither of us likes to be rushed - “Hurry up so we can get there and have fun, dammit!” is not something you'll hear from either of us – and we both enjoy travel for travel's sake, as opposed to seeing it as a necessary evil. That said, we also share a tendency towards inertia, whereby trip planning starts with one of us asking, “Where do you want to go?” and the other responding, “I don't know, where do you want to go?” Eventually, restlessness prevails, and we pull out the maps.

Deciding on what towns to stay in is one thing, choosing RV parking spots quite another. From the beginning, Leonard and I were keen to stick with facilities known to be well-managed, clean and safe with rates that fit our budget. As chief planner, responsibility for locating parking spots falls to me, and I rely on a combination of resources to get the job done. Here's a list of my “go to” sources:

 

* Good Sam RV Travel Guide & Campground Directory

In 2012, the Good Sam RV Club merged two widely-used directories, Woodall's North American Campground Directory and Trailer Life Directory, into a single guide. Most listings are for private parks, but some public campgrounds are also included.

While some prefer the print version, a recent RV industry survey showed that an increasing number of RVers (like me) are moving towards web-based publications. The search feature of this site makes it easy to sort out parks by city and amenities (big rig parking, swimming, etc.) and frequently includes a link to the park's own web site for a more detailed look. Plus, not having to worry about where you're going to store a giant book is a nice bonus.

 

The caveat here is that Good Sam RV Club is a business that relies to some extent on sponsorships for revenue. This may or may not influence the club's objectivity when it comes to rating parks.

 

* RV Park Reviews

This web site is a kind of Angie's List for RVers, relying on user-submitted comments to create reviews of private and public parks. If a park's manager treats guests like suspects in a robbery investigation or if the on-site workout room advertised as “full of equipment” turns out to be a small closet with a 1980's era treadmill squeezed in, you will hear about it here. You'll also learn about hidden gems where things like scenery and friendly management make up for amenities that a larger, newer park might have, such as a large, paved site or planned activities.

 

The caution here is that there's no vetting of comments. Anyone with an ax to grind can sharpen away. I find that comparing RV Park Reviews to other sources produces a check against attempts to bias these ratings, one way or the other.

 

* Google maps

Typing the name of a specific park into Google map's search will yield a map pinpointing the park's position and ratings, submitted by Google+ members.

Further probing via Google Earth lets me get a closer look at the prospective park and surrounding area. Knowing where the nearest railroad tracks are or just how low the branches on all those lovely trees surrounding a potential parking site hang comes in really handy (as do pruning sheers).

 

Using all the above, I identified our next parking spot. Goose Island State Park in Rockport, Texas gets good marks all round, including perhaps the most important rating system of all, the Timm Annual Budget Affordability Scale. That's one guide I follow very, very closely.

Google Earth view of Goose Island State Park campsites. No overhead obstructions or ground-level barriers to beware of. Just the Gulf of Mexico, straight ahead. Sweet!

Canines and molars

This past week, Sprocket, Leonard and I experienced woes related to (of all things) teeth. Hubby's and dog's arose from an encounter with a couple of aggressive dogs, mine from a failed root canal. I'm happy to say we all seem to be coming out of our respective ordeals “none the worse for wear.”

San Antonio's extensive system of walking/biking trails, like the Salado Creek Greenway,

is helping to build the city's reputation as a place to live an active lifestyle.

The week started with news that San Antonio would experience a stretch of warmer weather. This development inspired us to further explore the city's outdoor delights, including its miles of bicycle paths and famous River Walk.

All was proceeding blissfully until Sunday evening when Leonard, having completed a sunset stroll with Sprocket, returned with news of a different kind. While passing a nearby RV site, two Italian mastiffs, a breed of dog prone to attacking smaller dogs, decided to get a taste of our boy. Both managed to escape their tethers, and a brief battle ensued. What's more, in the confusion Sprocket had repaid his doggy daddy's devotion by nipping his hand! So much for bliss.

Evidence of Sprocket's canine attack. The dogs' owners managed to

restrain them quickly. Otherwise, this incident could have turned tragic.

A quick examination of our canine revealed two puncture marks on his neck, one of which was bleeding slightly (just enough to clean out the wound). After dabbing a bit of antibiotic ointment on the holes, I turned my attention to Leonard who shared that in the commotion of rescuing Sprocket the latter literally had bitten the hand that feeds him. Fortunately, that appears to have been nothing more than a painful reminder of the incident.

By the way, most, if not all, RV parks allow pets. Where dogs are concerned, the majority restrict the more aggressive breeds, like Italian mastiffs. The park we're staying in has no such limitation. Nonetheless, we reported the incident to management so they would at least know of a potential problem.

Meanwhile, I had my own worries. One of my molars – site of an old root canal – was staging an uprising. By Wednesday, what began as a minor annoyance would end with me and my abscessed tooth parting company.

The three of us are recovering nicely. I'm hoping that by week's end Leonard and I can resume our San Antonio explorations.

For now, I am trying to follow my periodontist's post-op instructions, which include drinking milk shakes and avoiding strenuous activity. Gee, doc, I'll try.

This bride was one of a dozen or so on Valentine's Day outside the Bexar County

Courthouse awaiting their turn before the judge.



Visitors to San Antonio's San Fernando Cathedral pass by this crypt containing remains of the legendary William Barrett Travis, David “Davy” Crockett and Daniel Boone.

The Luxury pub, located in a trendy San Antonio neighborhood along the River Walk, is built in recycled shipping 

containers. Dining is al fresco. Ride your bike or walk, and feel free to bring your dog!

 

Frost, friends and fine art in south central Texas

This past Sunday we departed Big Bend NP and began what will be a three-month meandering to Aztec Ruins National Monument, site of our next volunteer assignment.

Leonard & Kat admire this metal sculpture. A museum

docent showed us how to make it move.

First on our list of stopovers: the bustling town of San Angelo, Texas. Why San Angelo? It so happened that Kat, a good friend and fellow expatriate from our years in Costa Rica, was there visiting Margie, her mother. Not wanting to miss out on either the prospect of seeing our pals or getting a tip on where to find good eats – and isn't that what life's all about? - we set the GPS for the San Angelo KOA.
 

For the uninitiated, San Angelo (population about 112,000) offers the kind of amenities found in similar third-tier cities...and a few found only in larger ones. (I'll get to one of those in a minute.) Visitors will find a mix of shopping and dining options capable of satisfying most any heart's desire. The list of “what's going on in San Angelo” also featured a blast of Arctic air bringing yet another round of sub-freezing temps to the area.

 

Our first morning in San Angelo found Leonard scrambling to retrieve our water pressure regulator, the one he connects outside the rig to mitigate potential problems arising from excessive water pressure (a problem in some RV parks). Seeing as how we'd already lost one regulator to ice, we weren't exactly excited about forking out another $60 bucks to replace the replacement. The potential for freezing pipes and hoses is the stuff of which RV nightmares are made.
 

As for our visit with Kat and Margie, Kat steered us towards a fabulous Japanese-Korean restaurant where we dined our first night in town. The next day, Margie wisely chose to remain in the warm confines of her lovely home while Kat suggested a trip to the San Angelo Museum of Fine Arts. Off to the museum we went!

To be frank, my expectations going in were fairly low, the result of growing up in a place where people paid good money for paintings done by orangutans at the local zoo. (One need only look at the walls of any primate cage to know what those looked like.) I wouldn't have been at all surprised to find the museum's walls filled with images of poker-playing dogs or deceased celebrities immortalized on black velvet. Little did I know that we were about to discover a hidden gem in this small, historic town.

A sampling of SAMFA's glass and ceramics collection.

The museum building is a lovely, modern structure in San Angelo's river district . It houses a wonderful permanent collection of ceramics, paintings, sculpture and photographs representing a variety of artistic styles. SAMFA features special exhibits, too, like their current offerings showcasing works of regional artists, including painter H.W. Caylor and sculptor Gib Singleton.

We spent a good hour marveling at all the museum had to offer then followed that with a stop at a nearby Starbucks to consume large cups of steaming hot brown liquid before returning Kat to her mom's to bid farewell in advance of our departure for San Antonio the next morning.

Soon, hopefully, that famous southern Texas winter weather will return. In the meantime, Leonard and I will console ourselves with one simple thought: at least it's not snowing!

Steer horns form the base for this chair. (And, no, we're

not getting one for the RV!)

Harvey Wallace Caylor lived the frontier life and ranks among the American West's great artists.

Gib Singleton trained at the Chicago Art Institute. His sculptures

are displayed at some of the world's most notable museums. 

SAMFA lets regional artists show their talents. Note the creative recycling of used paint tubes. (I'm sure this painter isn't the first to want to throw a hatchet at his work.)



Art of the future? This bracelet was produced by a 3-D printer. Watching that printer in action was like seeing something out of Star Trek.

 

Nearing the finish line

Our three-month assignment at Big Bend National Park ends this Friday. I confess to having mixed emotions about leaving. While I won't miss being so far removed from civilization, I will miss the grandeur of the Chihuahuan Desert, the beauty of the Chisos Mountains, and the majesty of the Rio Grande. I will also miss the Park Service staff and volunteers with whom we've worked. What a great bunch of people!

Activity at Persimmon Gap visitor center slowed a bit after the holidays. The change of pace afforded me the opportunity to participate in a different kind of activity, the Big Bend 50/25/10 Ultra Run. This is one of those “you mean people actually PAY to do that?” experiences that takes runners over a course that would send shivers down the spine of any driver of a low-clearance vehicle. Entrants opt for distances of 10, 25 or 50 kilometers. (That's 6.2, 15.5 and 31 miles, in case you slept through class the day they taught the metric system). They plop one foot in front of the other through Big Bend NP's roughest back roads to the finish line.

A couple of 50K runners pass our station. Eight miles

down, just 23 more to go!

Before you go thinking I was actually foolish enough to enter this grueling event, I should explain that my participation was limited to pouring cups of electrolyte-replenishing beverage and cutting bananas into bite-sized pieces so that those among us who still have knees could live out the day.

 

Feeling it our duty to spur all those weary athletes on towards completion of their quest, the two of us assigned to aid station #2 cheered every runner as if we were a throng of five. I met hundreds of people, each of whom moved me emotionally for their grit and determination. The most awesome participant I encountered was a 70-year-old woman who looked almost as fresh midway through her course as did many of her 30-something counterparts. What a gutsy lady!

 

Leonard and I now direct our attention to the next finish line in our own race, ticking off the items in our two-page departure checklist. He will be busy prepping Kong and Truckzilla – those tires don't inflate themselves, you know – as I reorganize Kong's contents with an eye towards balancing weight load and safeguarding our belongings for next week's “rolling earthquakes.”

Aid station #2. One runner called it, "an oasis in the desert."

On Saturday, we wander 

north to San Angelo, Texas to spend a couple of days with the fabulous Fabulista de Costa Rica (aka Kat) and her mother the equally fabulous Margie.

 

The plan after that – as always with full-timing, etched in Jello – is to spend the rest of winter in Texas before venturing to Kansas for another visit with la familia. Then, it will be off to NW New Mexico for a two-month volunteer gig at Aztec Ruins National Monument.

 

So long, Big Bend. It's been good to know ya'.