According to Plan

Contented. Sometimes on my travels things don't go exactly according to plan. Actually, more often than not things don't go the way I envisioned them in my head when I planned out my adventure, and those times are what give me my stories. Who wants to hear about a trip where everything was choreographed and rigid? They don't make for fun stories, and I find myself only sharing the times on my adventures where something didn't happen like I thought it should. Even my short weekend get-aways, with less room for error due to time constraints, sometimes don't go the way I want them to. This year's birthday trip was no exception.

I like to take trips every year to celebrate my birthday. Given that I'm a January baby you would think that my options are limited as far as celebrations can go, but I was never one to shy away from a challenge. When I was younger my birthday trips were usually limited to a single day, usually ice skating or maybe driving to a museum or something. As I got older and more independent, I started travelling (go figure, right?) Now, traveling in the winter has its own logistical difficulties, but I always seemed to manage ok. I started exploring outdoors in the chill of mid-winter, first in my home state, followed the next year with a trip to Colorado and Rocky Mountain National Park with a friend, and the year after that (last year) I spent a week by myself in the deserts of southern Utah. That trip in itself was an exercise in changes to my itinerary, what with me getting sick and the blizzards I encountered. This year, however, I wanted to go somewhere warm. I envisioned sunny beaches with that sea breeze that keeps everything from getting too hot, camping out in my tent with my pup while wearing shorts and a tank top. Lucky for me, I moved to Texas almost two years ago and the gulf coast is only four hours away, plus previous adventures had led me to a tiny little state park with no crowds. A perfect get-away for the birthday girl.

The day I left home it was foggy, threatening rain. I'd checked the forecast obsessively, making sure I wouldn't have to change my planned location, though I wasn't opposed to travelling further south down the coast until I found warmer skies. The forecast promised the fog would burn off by noon, so I timed my arrival at the park for 11am to ensure I got the perfect spot on the beach. Setting up a tent, which is essentially a giant sail, by yourself on the beach takes some skill and patience, and with only one minor mishap where I had to chase down my rainfly before it blew into the alligator infested marshes I managed to get the tent set up and pitched tightly against the strong breeze, all while dense grey fog swirled around me. The sea was indistinguishable from the sand and the sky.

With the tent up, I waited. And waited. Noon came and went, and the fog only seemed to thicken. I took Callie on a walk along the water where she enjoyed chasing the waves and bringing me seagrass that washed up with the tide. If I wasn't paying attention I could have lost her in the fog that turned everything into the same monochromatic grey. Everything was diluted, even the bright red paint of my car. My grey tent with orange linings all but disappeared, and the only reason I found my way back to it was by walking along the edge of the dunes until I nearly walked into it. As 2 o'clock came and went, I crawled into my tent to try to keep my dog and I a little dry. It didn't matter; everything was damp from the fog that swirled around outside. Finally, an hour before sunset, the fog lifted and sunlight sifted in through the clouds, giving a false warmth to the drenched beach. I crawled out of my tent, but my hopes of lying on a beach while the sun warmed my bones had been dashed hours before. Instead I curled up in the last rays of the sun, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and read my book until the light became too dim to continue outside. The fog was moving back in from the ocean, and Callie and I crawled back into the tent for the night.

My one last holdout for the weekend was one of the spectacular beach sunrises that I've come to love so much, but Mother Nature wasn't having it. The fog that had begun creeping back in at sunset the night before enveloped everything in just as dense and damp of a mist as the previous day, and I found myself packing my tent just after what should have been sunrise. Instead, I got to watch the grey mist develop from a dark charcoal fog that blocked out all light into an ethereal landscape that held no shape or feature. After one final walk along the water's edge (only discernable by the wetness of the water washing between our toes, because we sure couldn't see much) Callie and I loaded up into the car and left the park. It wasn't exactly what I had envisioned when I thought about a beach trip for my birthday, but I find myself still happy that I went. Fog on the ocean and beach is something I hadn't experienced before, and now I can say I have. Next time though, I want some sun!