Where the West Begins ... Almost (Mile 7215, Trail Mile 173.6)

It's been incredibly interesting on this trip seeing how amazingly schizophrenic America can be. We started on the West Coast, noting the significant differences just in our own state, between the north and the south. The Mountain West had a distinct character, as did the Great Plains, the Great Lakes, and our families' two different versions of the Northeast. And "the South" is no different. I added the quotes because, as with so many things, we often generalize and stereotype. In reality, the horse country South of Virginia's rolling hills is worlds away from the Great Smokey Mountains. Similarly, the Gulf Coast of Alabama has little in common with Huntsville in the north, where I once lived. 

Today's trip had us heading further southwest to Galveston. I've always thought of Texas as the dividing line between the south and the west, notwithstanding the fact that it lies squarely in the center of the country. After all, Texas is cowboy country, right? Well, almost right. Galveston is near the eastern border of Texas, lies along the Gulf Coast, and, I've always thought, feels more like an offshoot of Louisiana than the state it actually belongs to.

It was a medium drive day, clocking in at just about 8 hours. Along the way, we saw more fun signs of southern culture ...

... passed by our new favorite grocery store in Bayou la Batre (of Forrest Gump fame) ...

... and saw the massive shrimp fishing fleet that helps make the Gulf Coast one of the most productive fisheries in the country.

Further west, we entered the grotesque industrial belt around Houston.

But, on a brighter note, we crossed over a super cool bridge ...

... and even drove past the Johnson Space Center, which, of course, you all know as Mission Control ("uh, Houston ... we have a problem").

Eventually we arrived at our new beach house in Galveston. And, believe it or not, it's on Rachel Road. Now, what could be better than that?

Here's us, out west again ... almost ...