Hay rolls are as Texan as longhorns and cowboy boots. These we found along I-10 outside of San Antonio. Photo by Glenn.
These barns were located across the interstate from the hay rolls in the photo above. Photo by Glenn.
Does this qualify as a Texas wind farm? A feed and hardware store near Schulenberg was selling these. The tallest one is a mere $850, but you can land the smallest of them for around $250. Photo by Glenn.
Our trip has come full circle as we arrive again in Houston, this time by car. This makes at least eight major cities we have been to in less than two weeks. Photo by Roni.
This is the exterior of the Quality Inn where we stayed in Humble. Our room is the one on the ground floor. The patio door actually worked once we figured out how to open it. Photo by Glenn.
That tree line obscures the Intercontinental Airport of Houston. One of the main runways is about half a mile away. Our rental car awaits the attention of the touch-up paint. Photo by Glenn.
Feeling better. After a quick touch-up the paint job is passable. What you are seeing in this slightly blurry picture is the reflection of the curb on the front bumper; the worst scratches are gone. Photo by Glenn.
Aside from some bug splatter, the front of the Dodge looks happy. Photo by Glenn.
Not much to do in the hotel but kick back with a book or watch cartoons. Photo by Glenn.
Ben plays with his toys on the dining table in our room. Our hotel room isn't one of the nicest ones we have stayed in this trip, but at least it is convenient to the airport. Photo by Glenn.
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Houston means I'm one day closer to you
Wednesday, September 29 (Day 13) — I'd like to say that our last big drive across the state of Texas was filled with wonderful sights and memories that will fill countless pages of this journal. But that would be an exaggeration of Texas-size proportions. I have previously stated that the interstate is not the way to go if you plan to sightsee, which is unquestionably the case for I-10 between San Antonio and Houston. Unlike the trees that lined vast stretches of I-55 through Mississippi, I-10 is a mishmash of ranches, truck stops, scrub land and the occasional woodland guarding the banks of rivers and gullies. The freeway widens from two to three lanes when you get within about 70 miles of Houston, and there is little along the way that screams out to vacationers to stop and look. Nevertheless, I will attempt to offer some highlights.
We repacked the Dodge around 10 a.m. and somehow made it all fit in the trunk before checking out of the Clarion Hotel Riverwalk following a quick peek at the hotel's gift shop. I was tempted to buy some more postcards, but I am sure my quota for San Antonio images was more than satisfied yesterday. Outside, crews were adding new coats of red paint to the curbs around the valet area. I half joked to Roni that I should ask to borrow a brush for a moment to touch up the damage to the Dodge. There is a curb in San Antonio with our rental car's paint on it. Judging from the numerous scuff marks on the curb, I am not the first one to tattoo the concrete.
The streets of San Antonio were just as quiet today as they had been yesterday. Where is everyone? They must all hang out at Austin. Our first stop was an Exxon convenience store where we got a 6-pack of Krispy Kremes for the road. Ben and I argued about what brand of chocolate milk he should get -- the generic brand at $1.29 with more ounces (my choice) or the tiny bottle with the cartoon character on the lid for twice the price (his choice). We compromised. He bought the generic brand, but in strawberry instead of chocolate. We ate the doughnuts in the store's parking lot, so so much for taking breakfast on the road. It was better to get eating out of the way before driving in my case, because I was focused on trying to find an auto parts supply store. NAPA, Kragen, Advance... anybody who might have the touch-up paint I required. As we trekked east on I-10 and away from San Antonio, I wondered if finding an auto parts store would prove more of a challenge than finding postcards near Dallas.
My question was answered as the big towns became small towns and eventually disappeared altogether the farther east we traveled. Did you know that there are entire communities in south Texas that rise up along the highway and offer no services besides truck repair? OK, maybe they have a hotel or a gas station, or there is a restaurant nearby, but truckers have it made along I-10. We poor vacationers looking for some touch-up paint are simply out of luck.
Our first stop came just outside of Seguin where I finally got to photograph some of the huge hay rolls we have been seeing throughout the South. They're nothing special, just hay rolled up snail-like and left to dry in the hot Texas sun. I don't think I have seen a single hay bale since we were in California. We rolled along some more until we came to the exit for Luling and Ottine, where Palmetto State park is located. I thought it would be fun to explore the park, check out the lake there and maybe walk on a trail. But it didn't seem like much of an attraction, or perhaps we're just getting tired of all the driving. We didn't stay after visiting the park headquarters and looking at the map. All the while we were listening to an AM radio station out of nearby Gonzales where they started the top of the hour reading the local obituaries and concluded it by rattling off items for sale, classified ad-style. Now that's a small town! That's something I sort of wish we had more of in California, the unsophisticated community radio shows that may be short on news but long on listenability.
We stopped for lunch at a restaurant in Schulenberg that advertised homebaked pies on its freeway sign. I had a German sausage and potato salad combo, then polished it off with a slice of pecan pie. The meal was forgettable, but the pie was excellent. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't leave the South without having at least one slice of pecan pie. Now I can leave satisfied.
Less satisfying was my quest for an auto parts store. By the time we reached Katy, just 30 miles east of Houston, I was becoming desperate. Don't people in Texas fix their cars? Apparently they do, just not themselves. There must have been a dozen auto repair places in Katy alone, but I searched high and low for auto parts for nearly an hour with no luck. Then, just as I was about to give up and drive on, out of the corner of my eye I say O'Reiley Auto Parts. I was saved! I went straight to the paint section and found a can of red spray paint that looked about right. Then I had second thoughts about just spraying on what might be the wrong color. I tracked down the paint code inside the engine compartment of the Dodge and discovered that in fact an exact paint match was available. Unfortunately, it came only in a tiny vial that had to be brushed on. I wanted a spray can! I looked at every spot on the shelf and failed to find the product number. Then I asked a clerk who confirmed that the paint I needed only comes in a small tube. What? Do people with fire red Dodge Stratuses not fix anything larger than a rock chip on their own? OK, at least I had the right color if not the best way to apply it. Along with sandpaper and a solvent wipe to remove the bug splatter from the bumper I was out a little more than 10 bucks, which if it saves a $300 painting bill was a worthwhile investment. We all went over to Dairy Queen for some Blizzard treats after that. I had left Roni and Ben in the car parked in the hot sun, so they were in need of a refreshment after the ordeal. I ate my Blizzard while trying to navigate traffic on I-10. We were in the thick of rush hour by now, and while traffic was not as unbearable as the other day in Austin, it was still plenty slow. I have found Texas drivers to be a pretty laid back bunch overall, but they drive just like any other harried bunch of commuters when you get near the big cities. Houston, with about 3 million people living in an around the beltway, is plenty crazy at rush hour.
I was looking for Highway 59 north and hadn't expected to get all the way into downtown Houston in the process, but that is where I-10 and 59 meet. The business district looks a lot like the one in Dallas, except that it sneaks up on you from I-10. We looked to our right and suddenly it was there. Perhaps we will explore it some tomorrow, but that is a point still open to discussion. In the meantime, Highway 59 led us back to Humble, which was our starting point nearly two weeks ago. Our final two nights in Houston, aside from Dallas, were the only rooms we had not booked in advance. Part of the reason was because Roni wanted us to be near the airport to save time on our morning flight home. I wasn't sure what we wanted to do in town Thursday and thought we might want to be close to whatever attraction we decided to visit, then we could always change hotels to one closer by the airport Thursday night. We decided it would simply be the easiest thing to stay close to the airport both nights. So we wound up at the Quality Inn about two miles away from the terminal at George Bush Intercontinental Airport at Houston -- also known as IAH in airport code-ese. It isn't elegant, but it is cheap at $59 a night. We are in room 130, an alleged non-smoking room with a sliding glass door that opens out onto the main parking lot. What a view! Across the street are some heavy woods that screen out the noise of the jets landing. When we arrived, there was some guy parked in front of our room washing his car with rap music blaring from his radio. He turned it down just after we passed him. I could sort of relate to the car care thing, however, as that was my plan precisely.
The first thing I did after we checked in was to go out to the car and get to work on my crappy paint job. First, I lightly sanded the scraped area to remove some of the burrs from the damage. I was using a fine grit sandpaper, so it didn't take much of the roughness out. Just enough to be credible. Then I used the solvent wipe to remove the dust. Next, I dabbed on the touch-up paint liberally to the damaged areas. I know every car repair guide says you shouldn't do this if you want the best finish, but I was striving only for hiding the scratches in quick-and-dirty fashion. When I was done it looked pretty good from afar. I may have to repaint a couple of areas in the morning, but for the most part the abrasions are covered over and are hardly noticeable unless you are looking right at them. Who knows how closely they'll inspect at Thrifty, but I guess we'll find out.
We planned to eat at the restaurant attached to the end of our hotel, but when we got there about 7:30 we discovered the restaurant is closed for renovation or something silly. They were referring people to the bar upstairs. Well, I didn't like the idea of eating in a smoke-filled bar, nor of having Ben around the drinking crowd. We decided instead to order Domino's Pizza. Hopefully tomorrow, our last night in town, we can finish off with a good Texas-quality dinner.
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