Southbound to Corpus - November 2024

There are two things that can be said, without dispute, about the content I share on this blog. If you’ve been following along for a while, I’m sure you’ll agree. First: the amount of Port Aransas, Corpus, and Texas Gulf Coast content I upload far outnumbers just about everything else, and by a long shot. Second: when I do finally publish something, the entry is seldom, if ever, what I would consider to be “new.” Most of what I manage to upload is at least six months to a year old. As of this post, I’m falling even further behind, unfortunately, flirting with a gap of nearly a year and a half.

I’ve honestly tried to speed up my workflow and to shrink the gap between taking a trip and writing about it. But life rarely lets me operate at the pace that I’d prefer. And while I’m a little bummed about that on the surface, I’d much rather spend my free time with family, kicking my kids’ butts in Mario Party while I still can. As most parents can probably attest to, you blink and suddenly they’ve grown taller, and you’ve become noticeably less “cool.”

One thing I have changed, though, is how I take notes, or rather, I’ve started taking them again. It was a practice I stopped for reasons I still can’t quite explain. Because of that, and the previously mentioned lack of idle time, I’ve begrudgingly accepted that there will almost always be a sizeable gap between the actual trip or experience and the moment I finally sit down to write about it. So, starting last year, I began keeping better notes and even audio recordings to help myself later, especially when it comes to subtle details that I might have otherwise forgotten or downplayed. This trip was the first time I made a concerted effort to revisit that approach, and I hope being able to look back on those notes makes this entry a little more detailed, and maybe a bit more entertaining than usual. If not, well… at least I tried.

With that being said, on to the story. And on to something a little different than normal, though maybe something that will become more common. Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. Who really knows.

As if rambling is the only thing I know how to do, it feels important to point out that this entry was revised a handful of times, and the intent and direction have changed quite a bit since the first draft. Some events have since panned out in ways that, rather than aging like fine wine, aged more like milk. So, since I have the benefit of control here, I made the decision to completely nuke those elements. Oddly enough, or maybe it’s just delusion on my part, I think the story ended up being better because of it.

Anyway, the story is below. Kudos if you’ve made it this far.

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That morning, my alarm went off around 5 AM, which is about the time I normally wake up. However, the older I get, a 5 AM wake-up always seems to come sooner than I want it to, no matter how early I go to bed. In the spirit of transparency, I definitely hit the snooze button on my iPhone at least twice. Shoot, possibly even three times. Eventually, after failing to come up with a plausible excuse to stay in bed, I got up and shuffled into the bathroom to take a shower.

From there, as it typically goes, I got dressed and filled my Yeti cup with fresh coffee in the kitchen. After saying goodbye to my wife and briefly contemplating waking the kids to say goodbye as well, I walked out to the garage, climbed into my truck, and backed out a little after 6:30 in the morning.

Not long after pulling out of the driveway, I glanced down at the outside temperature gauge on my dash and noticed the reading dropping rather quickly. The day before, in true Texas fashion, we had flirted with temperatures around eighty degrees and an almost summerlike feeling. But overnight, a cold front blew in and brought what I would personally consider good fall weather. It was a welcome reset from the heat I’d grown beyond tired of. In my almost perpetual salty state, the heat was also something I’d been complaining about up until that point.

I was not even out of the neighborhood and had encountered my first setback. Thankfully, it wasn’t the cause for too big of a delay. (iPhone 14 Pro)

A short while later, almost out of the neighborhood, the temperature settled at forty-seven degrees, at least according to what my truck was displaying. Slightly chilly, sure, but enjoyable to me. The sky that morning seemed to match the shift in weather: partly cloudy, with remnants of the cold front still visible and a sunrise that was rather underwhelming. Still pleasant in its own way, in the sense that I was above ground and able to witness it. Just nothing worth pulling over to photograph.

This outing was set up as a trip to Corpus for work, rather than one planned purely for fun. Even so, it was a trip I approached without dread. Looking back, I was genuinely excited about it. More than anything, I just needed to step outside the office, get back on the open road, put a little distance between myself and my normal routine, and look toward a horizon that wasn’t the same one I stare at every morning on my usual commute.

As soon as I got off the backroads and onto the highway, Roger Miller’s King of the Road came on. It honestly felt a little too on-the-nose, but fitting enough that I couldn’t help but turn up the volume. In my true old-man fashion, I’ll admit that I’m a huge Roger Miller fan and seldom skip his songs when they pop up in my Apple Music rotation.

Traffic was nearly nonexistent, but then again, it was Tuesday during the week of Thanksgiving. Even with ongoing construction along I-35, 410, and I-37, I made it from the house to the southern outskirts of San Antonio in roughly an hour. Looking back, that was something I hadn’t been able to do in years.

As I continued south, the clouds ahead of me thickened, muting the landscape and dialing down the saturation on everything outside the windshield. The world beyond looked almost alien and lifeless. I remember chuckling to myself, thinking it had taken on the vibe of a poorly color-graded TV series from the early 2000s. I was especially thankful there was no trace of the dreaded orange-and-teal nonsense. On a more serious note, thank goodness that phase of editing is behind us. Hopefully permanently.

I took a break from music. I had a lot on my mind, and at that stage of the drive I was also getting inundated with phone calls. What should have been a three-minute song instead stretched into fifteen or twenty. Rather than getting irritated that I couldn’t make it through a single track uninterrupted, I turned everything off and listened to the faint hum of my tires and the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk as I crossed each bridge seam, of which there happen to be quite a few along this route.

Further into the drive, I reached what I consider my halfway point: the Live Oak rest area. By then, the wind had picked up substantially, making the weather far less pleasant to deal with. It stung my face a bit once I parked and stepped out of the truck to stretch my legs and use the bathroom.

That same cold wind, however, made me appreciate just how ridiculously hot my coffee still was in the Yeti I’d filled earlier that morning. I almost wished I’d brought a bigger tumbler, despite getting somewhat pissed off at the beginning of the trip after burning my tongue on the first sip. Adulting problems at their peak, I guess.

I have never been to a GO Carwash. I do not even know if there is one in my area. I do not know where this air-freshener came from. I do know that I left the air-freshener hanging long after it stopped smelling good. (Leica Q2)

Back on the road, a little farther south and probably an hour or so from my destination, the clouds finally began to break and sunlight pushed through. It was pretty blinding, and driving without prescription sunglasses was coming back to haunt me. At that point, I didn’t own any prescription sunglasses, and if I’m being honest, I still haven’t taken the time to order any. Whomp, whomp. Woe is me. I may also be a little behind on my normal prescription.

I arrived in Corpus earlier than expected. I’d planned on stopping for photos along the way, but the exits I wanted to take were closed, cutting off access to a few spots I’d had in mind. The north side of Corpus, particularly around 77, was under heavy construction at the time, not unlike the chaos along I-35 back home.

With some time to kill, I pulled into a random parking lot near the airport, where I needed to be later that morning, and sat for a bit, checking emails and glancing up from time to time to watch the sky. Only one jet took off in the twenty minutes or so that I sat there, and it wasn’t even worth pulling my camera out for. At the very least, my coffee had finally cooled to a temperature where I could drink it without risking a burned tongue, which felt like a small victory.

The meeting went well and wrapped up around 11:30 or so, and that’s all I care to say about it. (Cue the “aged like milk” comment from the introduction.) Afterward, I got back into my truck, headed farther into Corpus, and decided to surprise my best friend, Justin, with a visit to his shop for the first time in eight or nine years.

Thankfully, he was there. I had briefly considered calling ahead, but that would have defeated the whole purpose of the surprise. Had he not been, I probably would have cursed myself for not calling in advance. Such are the joys of deciding whether or not to listen to the voices inside my own head. This time, the gamble panned out. Next time, I’ll probably call, just to avoid pressing my luck.

Although I didn’t get to hang out with Justin as long as I would have liked, it was still great getting to see him and catch up. Despite the amount of time that had passed, we picked up right where we left off. That’s something I’m genuinely thankful for, especially given that I’m not always the best at staying in touch with people in my life.

After hanging out for a little while, I took a slow cruise down Ocean Drive and Shoreline without any real destination in mind. At least not consciously. Subconsciously, I knew exactly where I would wind up.

Ocean Drive has always been one of my favorite roads to drive, even when I’m doing it in a truck. With the low speed limits, it feels about the same no matter what you’re behind the wheel of.

No, it’s not anywhere near as epic as the Pacific Coast Highway in California, but in my head it still fits the bill. It’s also a heck of a lot closer, which in and of itself earns it some bonus points. There’s something about the proximity to the water, the smell of salt in the air, the seemingly endless amount of palm trees, and the extravagant houses lining either side of the street that makes me happy and, more importantly, helps me relax. Not sure why, but it does.

Eventually, I made a detour and stopped at Nueces Brewing Co., a place I hadn’t been to in a while, but one that just happened to be right where I was headed. Imagine that.

Nueces didn’t disappoint, though that’s nothing unusual. The vibes are always good, as is the food and, of course, the beer. I’m particularly fond of the Citramatic IPA, which is almost always my go-to when I’m there. So much so that one of the main bartenders, Tara, knows my order.

I was also stoked to learn that Citramatic is now available in a six-pack, though unfortunately it hadn’t been canned yet at the time of this visit. That said, I’ve deviated from my usual choice more than once while visiting and can confidently say I’ve yet to have a beer there that I didn’t enjoy.

While I was there, and just as I was getting ready to head out, I happened to run into Kaleigh Glover, a Corpus-based artist who was in the middle of painting murals on the brewery’s windows as part of a Christmas art contest put on by the city. Her work is fantastic and instantly recognizable. I can’t draw or paint to save my life, so I have a deep appreciation for those who possess that kind of talent. We chatted for a bit, talked about the art scene in Corpus, and then I set off back toward my truck.

Before leaving town, I walked around parts of Shoreline and the marina for half an hour or so. It wasn’t quite as much time as I would have liked, but it was still enough to shoot in a way I hadn’t been able to in a long time. I also got to try out a new filter from PolarPro for the first time, which exceeded my expectations. I think I ended up with some solid images, and it felt good to let the camera be more than just dead weight in my backpack.

I walked along the sand as well and picked up a few shells for the kids, which were surprisingly plentiful, before realizing my window to leave and make it back home at a reasonable hour was quickly closing. So I headed back to my truck and set off north, already turning over plans for another visit in my head.

Whelp, that’s it. Until next time.

-Tyler