|Cattle Crossing the Colorado|
Today will have to be the record for the shortest move - about 100'. I'm now in site 47, another full hookup site that, because it is preferred, is up to $34.50 per night with the reservation fee & park entry fee. I'm here until Friday, at which time I have to leave for 2 days. There is an unofficial dry camping area near the loop at the end of the road; I'll probably stay there.
The big excitement for the day was a Texas cattle drive. According to the attendant at the Nature Center, they won't allow the cattle on the bridge that crosses to a rancher's winter grazing area, so he swims them across the Colorado River twice a year. Today is the day! They truck the cattle to a holding pen & drive them across at low tide. They had a bunch of cowboys (and girls) on horses guiding them, a couple of boats in the river (one of which had to lasso a cow that kept wanting to come back to this side of the river). I wandered around & took a bunch of photos, including one of my "interesting" tree images, and a flock of pelicans, all of which can be found on today's LakeshoreImages page.
After that it was time to make the pie for tomorrow's pot luck. I definitely need to learn to check supplies before I make a run to the store, particularly when it is 30 miles away. My recipe calls for one cup of sugar - I discovered only have a half a cup. Luckily, there is a small store in Matagorda, a town at the foot of the bridge that is at the beginning of the road to the park, and only 6 miles away.
I keep trying to make the pie less soupy. It tastes fine, but there is always too much juice, particularly if I use frozen berries. They were fresh today, and I added a bit more Instant Clear Jel than I've been using. The toaster oven is part of the problem - there isn't enough air circulation, at least not as much as in a 30" household oven. I added 10 minutes to the cooking time at a bit higher temperature, producing a nicely browned crust. We will find out tomorrow about the juice!
Dinner was the left over spaghetti.
Until Tomorrow -