We woke to a dry morning, cool temperature with light breeze, unlike the windier, wetter conditions of yesterday evening's thunderstorm.
"Sore throat," Primate said, screwed his face, swallowed hard.
"You'll feel better soon. We'll get you some Fisherman's Friend lozenges later, if you need something for the rawness," I said.
Shallow puddles lingered from yesterday evening's deluge, scattered in the low spots on street pavement and RV park gravel. While the horizon changed from vibrant orange-red to pale blue, we broke down the tent, re-stowed gear in the car, made quick visits to the toilet. Cats from nearby mobile homes and permanent RVs perused their breakfast prospects around our open car, smelled the possibilities, assessed their risks and chances for a food score.
We left the cats to find food elsewhere, drove to the Sonic car-side service restaurant in Fort Stockton, for our own breakfast, then headed east across the expanse of Texas towards the Gulf Coast, a long day's drive.
We collided with a thunderstorm head-on in Houston, kept going east, then south to High Island where we walked out beyond the higher reach of in-coming waves for our photos of the TX low point.
About two hours daylight remained, so we stopped at East Lucas RV Park in Beaumont, TX for the night.
The idea of local food and approaching evening made Primate's stomach gurgle. "Hungry," he said.
My mouth watered. Crabs? Crawfish? Steak? Floyd's served a great seafood platter and Bloody Mary.
We covered 664 miles, stopped just short of the Louisiana border.
Low points - three; high points - one.
"Sore throat," Primate said, screwed his face, swallowed hard.
"You'll feel better soon. We'll get you some Fisherman's Friend lozenges later, if you need something for the rawness," I said.
Shallow puddles lingered from yesterday evening's deluge, scattered in the low spots on street pavement and RV park gravel. While the horizon changed from vibrant orange-red to pale blue, we broke down the tent, re-stowed gear in the car, made quick visits to the toilet. Cats from nearby mobile homes and permanent RVs perused their breakfast prospects around our open car, smelled the possibilities, assessed their risks and chances for a food score.
We left the cats to find food elsewhere, drove to the Sonic car-side service restaurant in Fort Stockton, for our own breakfast, then headed east across the expanse of Texas towards the Gulf Coast, a long day's drive.
We collided with a thunderstorm head-on in Houston, kept going east, then south to High Island where we walked out beyond the higher reach of in-coming waves for our photos of the TX low point.
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| Dr. Bobo Runs From TX Low Point. |
About two hours daylight remained, so we stopped at East Lucas RV Park in Beaumont, TX for the night.
The idea of local food and approaching evening made Primate's stomach gurgle. "Hungry," he said.
My mouth watered. Crabs? Crawfish? Steak? Floyd's served a great seafood platter and Bloody Mary.
We covered 664 miles, stopped just short of the Louisiana border.
Low points - three; high points - one.
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