Whiplash!
Journal Entry #20
January 21, 2022
As I write this entry, we are holed up and cozy in the van, listening to the wind’s low roar outside. We are beach camping on Magnolia beach, just south of Port Lavaca Texas. The winds are strong enough to buffet our van just a bit, making it feel oddly, like being on an boat anchored dockside, feeling the gentle rock of the water. The roiling waves of brown water capped with white, gusting gale winds and 40 degree temperatures are in complete contrast to yesterday’s idyllic scene. Eight hours ago we were walking along the blue-green glasslike water of the bay and enjoying the 75 degree sunshine.
The “whiplash” of the weather - vastly different experiences happening so quickly - pretty much sums up the our past week on the road.
The week began at Fort Pickens campground on the Gulf Islands National seashore. We wandered the deserted white sand beach and visited the Fort, a massive military compound established in 1834 built by prisoners and enslaved people, which was rendered obsolete only a few decades later after advances in cannon technology.
It seemed a fitting goodbye to Florida to watch the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico (with cheap bottles of margaritas in hand).
Heading west, our next waypoint was a harvest host establishment in the town of Ocean Springs, Mississippi, just a stone’s throw east of Biloxi. It started out as most harvest host visits at breweries do, finding a camping in spot (usually in a back warehouse lot) and walking inside to “check in.” As usual, we masked up and made our way to the bar. It was Friday night and the place was filling up. Total number of patrons with masks? ZERO. Total number of staff with masks? ZERO.
We’ve been in other places where masked folks were in the minority, but this was the first place where we were deeply aware of heads turning and feeling conspicuously different. We retreated, drinks in hand to a relatively unoccupied room to order food and play table shuffleboard. We later met a woman who who correctly guessed that we were harvest host campers (it was pretty obvious from our masks we weren’t locals!). She had parked next to us in the lot. She explained she was a single (older) woman living on the road originally from Vermont. She apologized to us for not wearing a mask and commented that she “totally supported what we were doing” — that she was vaxxed and boosted and believed in the science, but felt that as a solo female traveler in these parts “it was best just to fit in.”
The next morning we got on the road early and made our way to Biloxi to visit the Ohr-O’Keefe Museum, that featured works of the George Ohr, the “Mad Potter of Biloxi” the collection was housed in a set of beautiful buildings designed by Frank Gehry. The museum seemed out of place surrounded by the sprawl of casinos (kind of like us in Ocean Springs). It was a much needed tonic.
After our visit to the museum we carried on to New Orleans. Tom and I have been to NOLA a few times. We love it, as many do, for the music, food, cocktails, art and street buzz. We expected the town to be similarly laissez faire with masking and Covid protocols, but we were pleasantly surprised. In fact, of all of the places in the southeast we have visited to date NOLA has been the most “mask and vax forward”, requiring masks indoors and proof of vaccination to enter anywhere you might take your masks off. It helped make it easier for us to relax and enjoy restaurants and bars and a little live music.
Of course, it was the first time we have visited NOLA in a van! We opted, for the first time on our journey, to stay at a private, gated, RV park which was conveniently located just a block off the French Quarter. It was also just off of Route 10, next to the highway overpass and sandwiched between St. Louis #2 Cemetery and a block of warehouses and parking which seemed to house equipment and a staging area for a film production. We later learned they had begun filming the Interview with the Vampire series here. Though the RV park was quite swanky inside the gates (the place had a pool and hot tub) it was decidedly urban- our van was dwarfed by our “neighbor” above us—- an absolutely MASSIVE billboard for the mega millions lottery.
The first evening we walked to a distillery tucked into a warehouse under the shadow of Route 10 about a half mile from our RV park. We were the only folks there. We got a private tour of the facility and enjoyed a tasting of their products (we especially liked the Barrel Reserve Gentilly Gin).
We then wandered to a restaurant on Rampart called the Palm & Pine, and after having our vaccine cards and IDs checked we sat at the kitchenside bar, chatted with the line chef, drank Latin inspired cocktails and ate delicious food. A favorite was the smoked butter shrimp and grits.
The next day was cold and rainy so we decided to visit the National WWII Museum. The exhibits were well executed and the combination of detail along with the use of first hand accounts made it a very powerful experience. It inspired us to download Band of Brothers and watch this classic series again in the van.
By afternoon, the skies had cleared. Time to do the real NOLA thing, wander around and see what there is to see! On Bourbon Street we stopped to enjoy, of all things, the Betty White jazz funeral parade, complete with brass band, people wearing white wigs, carrying signs and drinks and walking pets dressed in sequins. As it turns out I had my sock monkey hat on (cold front came through behind the rain) and I was thrown some Betty White beads- a perfect keepsake!
Our heads were spinning a bit - more whiplash from moving from the somber nature of WWII to the complete ridiculousness and levity of the parade. But why stop the head spin?
So we moved onto the Spotted Cat for some NOLA jazz/swing and then ended our night at The Jewel of the South, a new southern small plates place with great cocktails. Favorites were fois gras parfait with toast points, the bone marrow plate, and the golden beets with smoked ricotta.
Let’s just say New Orleans wasn’t a hardship. It was a good “urban moment” for us two city types after a long stretch of “Deep South” panhandle camping.
And so there was even more whiplash when we moved to our next campsite in a county park in Calcasieu Parish, LA. We stopped for lunch at a local sausage/ boudin place called Rabideaux (where we hardly knew how to order), and while folks were friendly, again, we were the only masked people in the joint. We ate outside.
But more whiplash! Our next camping stop was at another harvest host, Equal Parts Brewing, in East Downtown Houston (known as “EaDo”) a former industrial area of the city that is seeing regentrification; the area has a sort of pioneering, hipster cool vibe. It was another BIG shift from the day before in Calcasieu, and a decidedly different but also welcome urban moment. Great, food, beer and street art.
Then we were off again, heading south.
And here we are at Magnolia Beach having the equivalent of a van “snow day” sheltering in place our van. It’s hard to explain the spare beauty and strange culture of Magnolia Beach, Texas. Certainly it is a stark contrast from Houston. We are free camping right on the beach; our spot is just feet from the bay. RVers from all over the country know of this place. They self organize and park along the shoreline. It’s a fascinating mix of young and old, vacationers and wanderers. Our neighbor, K, has been on the road in his class C rig for nearly three years. He prides himself on the fact that he has only paid for 10 nights of camping during his entire journey.
After ten weeks of mostly hugging the coastlines from the Chesapeake Bay to the Matagorda Bay, we will spend the next five weeks or so in Texas. We are heading northward to Hill Country and then west into the dry desert expanse.
This is where you got to my hometown (Houston), but the gentrification of East downtown started after I moved to NJ, so I've only experienced it a couple of times ... as a tourist.
Stay strong and wear your masks! What an adventure!