The Bad Day

The nature tour of southeast Texas eco-regions continued today with a trip to the Big Thicket nature center.  Along the way we misread a sign and turned onto a dirt and gravel oil well road.  Initially there were a few little homes in various degrees of upkeep, but it quickly devolved into a setting appropriate for a last ditch effort in a cold case investigation.  The road broadened and ended abruptly after a couple miles where a couple dilapidated pump jacks rusted themselves out of existence.  We found the mythical "Middle of Nowhere." 

The kid's asked "Is this it?", to which we responded, "Yep, we're there!  Everybody out!"  They detected our teasing and refused to remove their seat belts while voicing their certainty that we would all surely be eaten by crocodiles!  We re-traced our steps and found an amusing sign that directed us to all manner of destinations, yet strangely failed to direct anyone to the "Middle of nowhere."  We assume they thought everyone already knew.

Eventually we arrived at the nature center, which displayed a surprising assortment of educational information.  Unfortunately, unlike Jessica, the lone attendant provided as little help as possible and seemed more concerned with our potential as shoplifters.  The kids were revved up and darted here and there, revealing themselves only as loud blurs. 

We hit the nature trails in an attempt to get some exercise and burn off some energy.  The place appeared rustic and quaint, but soon bore a striking resemblance to Middle of Nowhere, USA.  Impenetrably dense vegetation progressively crept into the ever narrowing pathway, stifling all air movement and creating an intolerably hot maze.  Visibility off the path was limited to about 2 feet and we were quickly enveloped and swallowed by the Big Thicket, figuratively and literally as clouds of mosquitoes swirled around us, taking sips of us at will.  We sat the kids on our shoulders and set off at a brisk pace, trying to put distance between us and the swarm, and hoping that we might actually see something a little more picturesque and memorable.

We didn't really find the picturesque, despite discovering a nice little spot on a bridge, but we found "memorable".  Henceforth, today will be remembered as "The Bad Day in the Big Thicket."  The "trails" were mostly unmarked, and maps didn't seem to agree with the forks in the path which occasionally narrowed to less than 6 inches width, with grass and branches projecting into it.  If mosquitoes and crazy paths weren't enough, the area was inundated with little patches of swamp that nearly touched the edge of the trail, denoted by a patch of waist high grass; perfect ambush cover for the park's alligators.  We never saw any alligators, but the thought of them was ever present.  Needless to say, we walked very quickly and paid very close attention.

We walked so far we were certain that we must be close to the car, but discovered an unexpected sign that indicated we were deep into the thicket, a long way from the parking lot.  We quietly cursed our map and the lack of way finding signs as we debated our course.  Sweaty, sticky, frustrated and covered in bug bites despite a generous application of bug spray, we came to the unenviable realization that, rather than continuing the loop and potentially finding something worthwhile, we must about-face and return the way we came.  Boo!  We marched quickly back through the nasty mess of the Big Thicket, this time spotting a poisonous Copperhead snake, perfectly camouflaged in the leaf litter.  We paused just long enough to snap a picture and acquire a few more souvenir mosquito piercings.  Then we beat a hasty retreat to our trusty Hyundai and its bug free comforts of air-conditioning, cup holders and the power of internal combustion which quickly put as many miles as possible between us and the Big Thicket.

Recounting the event brought a scowl to our face for a couple days.  The kids only refer to it as "The Bad Day", but with time it has grown to be an amusing memory- to a point.