Jacob's Ladder

On a daunting Wednesday morning, we made plans to pull chocks for the first time in 8-weeks.  We were understandably slower, as the rhythm-of-movement was not as familiar.  The skies darkened, as another storm approached to escort us away from our latest port.  As the landing gear lifted, lightening cracked overhead, and obese raindrops quickly saturated everything not under cover—including me.  The last item was for me to pull the 30-amp shore-power and stow the cord away.  I'd always been cautious during the execution of this part, as the higher level of electricity could yield a serious injury.  The moment I pulled the plug, a flash went off...followed immediately by a sharp clap of thunder.  Getting dangerous.  Time to go.

With Glory and Hank in caravan formation, we pulled out of the Lackland FamCamp and headed...East.

It was much too late in the year for us to consider touring the southwest U.S., so we decided to head north where the climate was more favorable for trailer life.  But first, we needed to make a quick pit-stop.  New Texas transportation regulations require all trailers to be inspected prior to getting their plates renewed.  Our plates were set to expire in September, and we didn't want to trek back to Texas just for an annual inspection.  We found an RV service center outside of La Vernia, Texas, so we made a bee-line towards their location.  It only took the inspector a few minutes to tell us that Glory was healthy and in good condition.  After trading a few dollars for a wet receipt, we were back on the road. 

"The clouds prepare for battle in the dark and brooding silence." — Rush; Jacobs Ladder

Over The past few weeks we had been watching North Texas, Oklahoma, and parts of Kansas get hammered by violent storms.  We wanted to head north, but not actually venture through the dragon's teeth.  We agreed that a less risky route would be to trek up the western side of Arkansas.  As we headed East on I-10, the weather radio continued to chirp, notifying us of tornado and flash-flood warnings.  The clouds were heavy, dark, and pendulous; and we were convinced that we would spot a tornado at any moment.  

"Bruised and swollen storm clouds have the light of day obscured." — Rush; Jacobs Ladder

As we approached each roadway that led northward, another NOAA advisory would give us cause to not travel that route.  We soon realized that the storm was trekking along with us, and we could either keep driving further out-of-the-way towards Houston, or bite the bullet and turn into it.  

"Looming low and ominous, in twilight premature." — Rush; Jacobs Ladder

Almost exactly half way between San Antonio and Houston lies the small interstate town of Schulenburg.  We pulled into a vacant parking lot, gave the dogs a quick run to the bushes, and checked the current radar.  The storm was indeed trekking along with us, and the edge was starting to spit on us while we planned our move.  

"Thunder heads are rumbling in a distant overture." — Rush; Jacobs Ladder

With no great options, we pointed Hank north on Highway 77 towards La Grange; a point were we estimated we would meet-up with a bad storm.  The back roads were expectedly slower, and the deteriorating weather slowed them further.  NOAA updates continued to broadcast, and roads to the west that we had opted to avoid were now reporting areas of impassable flooding.  The storm barely beat us to La Grange, and the rain coming down so hard that it was impossible to see "The Shack Outside" made famous by ZZ Top.  After an hour of really intense driving, we got ahead of the storm...again.  The roads were dryer, and we started to make better time.  So much better time that we caught up to another storm as it passed through Franklin.  

"All at once the clouds are parted; light streams down in bright unbroken beams."         — Rush; Jacobs Ladder

We drove through a lesser storm, and began to see clearer skies ahead.  We had already logged some solid hours, and we weren't quite ready to park it—especially with storms so close in our rearview mirror.  With the roads getting better and the skies getting lighter, Kristy started looking for a bed-down location.  It didn't take long to find a spot far enough north for safety, but not so far that we'd be setting up in the dark.  One more stop to get Hank a drink, then it was on to Tyler State Park, just north of Tyler, Texas. 

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