Fixated on the Ocean

After leaving El Paso my heart was set on the beach. Dreaming of the rolling waves outside my window at night and the warmth of the sun on my skin as I relaxed on the sand. 

My first instinct was to drive the nine hours in one day to arrive as quickly as I could. A span I have driven many times before, most frequently from Kansas City to Denver. Though driving the van was somehow much more exhausting than driving my Toyota. If it was windy, I used my core to keep between the lines; If the roads were steep or winding, I had to stay extra alert to continue the safest speed and shift gears accordingly. That day, I made it for four hours before I decided to stop and relax in the middle of Texas. Four had become my lucky number, my sweet spot. I checked the Campendium app, finding the nearest free campsite. It happened to be in a park in Junction, Texas. By day the park looked like your average small town park with picnic tables and shelters lining the perimeter. A few Christmas banners hung from a central shelter that kids were playing on, chasing each other around and laughing. A beautiful blue river ran alongside the park with a rocky hill on the opposite side.

I arrived with a few more hours of daylight and took the time to address my ‘Water in fuel’ light that came on sporadically. Several cars drove by gawking out the window at me as I stared at my manual and peered under the hood. People walked far around me to get to their own shelters and didn’t say a word. I admit I was wearing my black and white tie-dye pants and my ‘strong women’ T-shirt, looking like a dirty hippie in a van. In all the places I have been I had never felt so unwelcome. I had finally figured out how to drain the water from my filter when the sun dipped low enough to trigger Christmas lights that were wrapped around nearly every branch of every tree in the park. Each tree a different color, hovering tall above illuminating the entire park. I sat on the bench for a while watching more kids playing tag under the bright lights, taking a moment to really soak in the spirit of the holidays, grateful to have stumbled upon the park. For the rest of the evening, locals circled the park to see the Christmas lights. Some exited their cars and took photos, most drove by slowly with music escaping their windows. I was tired that evening and headed in early, laying my head near the back window to watch the lights of the park. I fell asleep before documenting those lights and woke to the sun rising over the hill and the lights concealed against the trees once more.

I had a four-hour drive to Corpus Christi and was eager to sit by the beach and leave El Paso behind. I had met someone in Las Cruces and slowly let my guard down enough to go on a date. We got along really well. He laughed at all of the stupid things I said. And he seemed to become as crazy about me as I was becoming for him. I drove back from Carlsbad Caverns to meet him in El Paso instead of heading further into Texas, where we went on our second and final date. As we sat and got to know each other more, attitudes changed and expectations were smashed. It was clear we wouldn’t mesh outside of the bubble we had created during our short time together. So I left it there, in El Paso, feeling sad and a little crushed, but empowered to be able to accept that it was best to walk away. I fixated on the ocean.

I drove right through Corpus Christi and straight to Padre Island. Padre Island National Seashore was a large island with plenty of on-shore camping. $20 gets you in the park with 14 days of ‘free’ camping. Primitive, dry, and mostly without service. The weather was perfect and the skies blue. The beach was lined with sand dunes with about 50 feet of compacted sand that grew and shrunk with the tide. I parked my van as close to the dunes as possible, throwing the door to the van open and taking in the sunshine and waves. I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face. Luna took one look out into the giant mass of water and retreated to the top bunk, more than happy to avoid a giant bath. I put on the swimsuit I had bought in Phoenix, a light yellow one-piece that cut low in the front and was tied with a bow. I grabbed a book, Wild, which always prompted me to dream, and sat on my camp chair with my feet in the water. I couldn’t believe such a place existed. For $20

The sun began to dip below the small dunes and the fishermen drove down the beach to head back home. I changed out of my swimsuit as it got cooler and slipped back into my tie-dye pants and T-shirt. No side-eyes here. A few days prior I had bought ingredients to made kale potato soup. Without service, I did my best to remember the recipe and made the soup from memory. I’m not a great cook, but soups I found, I can handle. I chopped the potatoes, onions, and garlic. Sauteed the latter two, poured in the veggie broth, potatoes and kale and let it simmer for a while. I added salt and white pepper and took a taste— it was delicious. I was on a beach making a fresh meal with no recipe and it was actually wonderful. I think it was the white pepper. I grabbed a bowl and ate on the step of the van, before closing up and drifting to sleep with the sound of the waves.