A few weeks ago I searched for warm destinations to which I could fly inexpensively (under $100), and packed my camping gear into one tiny personal item with just a few versatile clothes. Once at my destination, I found an equally inexpensive rental-car and with a quick grocery store stop for snacks, a small styrofoam cooler, and some bandages for my messed up knee, drove a couple hours south to the Gulf. The drive took me through an eclectic mix of ranch land, cows, horses and goats, dotted with ramshackle houses, RVs, and trailers. I found it interesting to see farm houses with palm trees in the yard.
Mustang Island State Park is situated on a desolate spit of sand just miles out from Corpus Christie, TX. It's a sandy, windy destination and the primitive camping is without electric or running water. The beachfront campsites are merely a wooden picnic table half-buried in the sand on the wild, un-commercialized beach in front of the dunes that are covered in a wild sage that smells like pepper. With no hotels in sight, it's as if your feet are the first to walk the isolated shores first thing in the morning when the waves have swept the sand clean. There were just a few other campers the day I got in and because the sites are spread out about fifty yards apart, I pretty much had the beach to myself, though more people arrived for the weekend...families, young couples, old couples, people like me who share a love for the beach and camping. I saw a lot of broken sand dollars but no perfect ones this time. I think there's an analogy in there somewhere but haven't put words to it yet. My hammock was a treat and I spent many hours just swinging away in it, people-watching, bird-watching, wave-watching. The elderly campground host, with a quick missing-a-tooth smile, who drove around in a 4x4 to pick up trash, etc., was so kind to check in on me every day.
When you're alone, you have a lot of time to think. And sing. And talk to yourself. Self-doubt will try to creep in, especially when you do dumb things like try to run up the escalator backwards at the airport on your way there and trip and fall and rip your knee open. But it's in the quiet moments, alone, that self-love can also be explored, experienced, and embraced...despite having a big bandage on your knee as a reminder of decisions that maybe weren't the best.
I had several in-depth conversations with random passerbys that probably weren't random, but for the most part absolutely enjoyed my own quirky company. I got the car stuck in the sand four times which was stressful as it triggered that underlying, ongoing fear of "am I really capable on my own?", but I finally took about an hour to dig out a path from my tent to the packed-down 'driving' area with an old Igloo lid that I found in the sand. It was hard work but I just tried to imagine that I was digging a glorified sand castle. After digging and digging then pouring water on it to pack it down I was so proud that I drove right out that last day with no spinning tires.
It's unbelievable waking up to the sunrise just steps away from your tent door. The gray misty sky meets with the grey misty sea until the sun breaks through and separates the two into blues. There is a sacredness about sunrise on the beach that leaves you in awe. Sun-kissed warm days were followed by cool, damp nights boasting an array of stars before the moonbeams took over nightlight duty. Everything got wet at night from the heavy dew and ocean mists. It wasn't the best sleep I have ever gotten but I can't complain about waking up several times throughout the night and hearing the surf crashing and seeing the moonlight dancing on the crests of the waves. The last afternoon and evening was so very windy that I moved my tent to the other side of the car to get a little reprieve. It was great for the kite surfers but difficult to cook and ripped my tent, and by the end absolutely everything in my possession was covered in sand. Again, there are worse things in life and I wasn't complaining. So thankful to get to have a few days off work to take a much-needed adventure with myself. I'm not such bad company after all.
