Walking the West End Seawall

On September 8, 1900, the Great Storm of 1900 struck the City of Galveston, Texas. 6,000 to 12,000 people lost their lives that day, making it the worst storm in U.S. history. This tragic loss of life was due to the way Galveston was hastily constructed on the Barrier Island at the mouth of Galveston Bay. The low-lying dunes were no match for the high winds and huge storm surge that destroyed much of the City.

 

In response, the City of Galveston decided to build a seawall to protect it from such storms. Their plan worked. On September 13, 2008, Hurricane Ike could not top the Seawall, and saved most of the City from similar destruction. The concrete and sand that comprises the Seawall is laid on a solid foundation of Central Texas Pink Granite, the same stone that was used in building the Texas State Capital in Austin. The stone was cut from the Granite Mountain Quarry in Marble Fall, Texas, just down the road from Enchanted Rock State Park, which is made of the same rock. The Granite can withstand weathering and the constant pounding of the surf from the Gulf. It is laid out in a highly engineered grid to support the structure. Additional jetties were built to help hold the sand and prevent the undercutting of the foundation. The Seawall is an engineering marvel and stands as a symbol of the resilience and determination of the people of Galveston to remain on their little barrier island paradise.

  

On a foggy day, Marlene and I walked along the west end of the Seawall, where the foundation remains visible. Here, the Seawall rises 17 feet above the Gulf and now extends 10 miles to the east end of the Island. As we learned, apart from the occasional Hurricane, it is always a good day to walk the Galveston Seawall.

 

 

The granite blocks stand their ground as wave upon wave crashes into the shore of Galveston Island. Every block in the Seawall averages 5 tons. They were all hauled by rail 260 miles from the Texas Hill Country and placed here by steam-driven and horse-powered cranes in 1904. They have remained in place, protecting the City and its inhabitants.

 

 

This is the first of several short jetties on the West End. This point bears the brunt of the prevailing currents and tides.

 

This is West Beach, just beyond the Seawall. The City has had to rebuild it from time to time as the currents wash the sand out to sea. Barrier Islands are not permanent features of the Gulf Coast, even without hurricanes. They shift and move, disappear, and reappear all along the stretch of the coastline. Without human intervention, they would likely move on. Marlene and I watched them rebuild this stretch of the beach last year as a fleet of dump trucks and several bulldozers worked to restore the beach protection of the condos and parks built on the Gulf side of Texas 3005. This area is also prime turtle hatching territory and nesting areas for many shore birds, including the Snowy Plover.

 

The jetty takes the main force of the waves and dissipates the power, protecting the wall itself.

 

 

The planned chaos of the Galveston Seawall

 

The end of the first jetty also takes a pounding from the surf.

 

A few of the locals are hanging out on the Seawall. Looks like nap time to me!

 

This young Laughing Gull is unsure about these two creatures who are invading his turf. Over the next year, the black on the tip will cover the entire bill and turn deep red during the breeding season.

 

 

Looks like we got too close to this youngster.

 

 

But he is a handsome creature!

 

 

These three adult Laughing Gulls are pondering the mysteries of the thin veil at the sea's edge. Well, maybe not. Perhaps they are resting up for another trip to the grocery store just beyond the Seawall.

 

 

Time to get the groceries!

 

 

The concrete sidewalk that caps the Seawall is amazingly level. Even the stairs that lead to the surf have not shifted. This is a credit to the engineering that took place in planning and executing the foundation of the wall. Have you ever tried to lay a brick path on sand? Imagine laying a heavy brick on the sand at the edge of the Gulf? How long do you think it would last? This wall is 121 years old and as level as the day it was built.

 

 

A bit of flotsam caught in the Granite. But it sure looks like some eerie, magical creature crawling out of the crevices!

 

Here is another one. Could this be another magical creature disguised as flotsam?

 

 

Just past the first jetty, there is a stretch where the sand has accumulated on top of the Granite. While not a sandy beach, it does protect the real beach that begins about a mile to the east and runs through the City's central section. This end of the Seawall offers protection for the sand for the remaining 9 miles of beach. By the way, if you look closely, you may glimpse a faint rainbow in the fog near the center of the photo.

 

 

Sea fog rolls in with the cool breeze off the waves. It happens when warmer continental air comes in and the cooler, moist Gulf air slips underneath it. The mist is carried on the breeze and coats everything, including us.

 

 

 A local Willet takes a break from hunting the bugs and crustaceans lurking among the blocks of Granite.

 

 

Here we found a tidal pool just behind the row of rocks that protect the sand. If you look closely, you can see the edge of the granite blocks protruding from the sand. Unfortunately, these are not Pacific Coast Tidal Pools. No octopus or starfish here. But there is likely a Sand dollar of two lurking just beneath the surface of the sand.

 

The sand filters in and fills the space between the blocks, giving more strength to the structure.

 

But the waves will have their way as they move the sand around in the swirling currents.

 

 

This is engineering at its best!

 

The sea fog has grown thicker, and it is easy to see the mist blowing in the breeze.

 

Yep, it was a great day to walk on the Sea Wall. I hope we can walk the rest of the wall while we are here. If we do, stay tuned! More photos may follow!

 

Travel Well, My Friends!

Bob

 

 

Many Paths, One Journey - Part 1

 

In the 10 years we have been RVing, we have traveled many different paths. Some were planned and delivered according to our expectations. Others were not chosen and offered much more than we could have ever anticipated. In this series, I will share some of the pictures I have taken of some of the paths that have been part of our journey.

 

This was a breathtaking stroll through an aspen grove in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado in 2023. The path was like a golden carpet, and the breeze danced with the golden leaves as they gracefully descended from above. It was a place of pure magic that held me in awe, spellbound, and reluctant to depart.

 

This road is part of that same journey through the San Juans. The incredible vistas surrounded me in delight as we moved from joy to joy. We have been on this road many times over the years, and each time, no matter the season, it fills my soul.

 

 

Believe it or not, this is a path through the White Sands of New Mexico. The vast landscape is one big trail that is constantly shifting with the wind. The gypsum sands are kept damp from beneath through water that drains into the area from the surrounding mountains. As the sand dries on the surface, it blows into these gorgeous dunes. To walk this path is to rediscover the incredible artistry of the universe.

 

 

This is a temporary trail that we made in that universe. It was gone within minutes and offered the universe’s response to our time among the dunes. In the midst of the constantly shifting sands, the dunes will survive. Our footprints will not. The constancy of change reminds me to walk lightly and with great respect for the paths before me.

 

 

This is an ancient pathway along a cliff dwelling in Bears Ears National Monument. A rancher camp built in the 1800s was at one end of this overhang. At the other end was a space that had been the home of Native People for thousands of years. In between was a seep of water. Bare feet, moccasins, sandals, boots, and hiking shoes have been walking this path for millennia. children’s laughter and ancient voices echoed all around us. It was more than a privilege to be here. It was an honor to be able to connect with people who called this place home.

 

This is a lava tube in Idaho that is filled with ice. We were there in late Summer 2023. The average temperature in the cave was under 40 F, but the coldest air settled and froze the ponds beneath our pathway. Several storyboards explained the science behind these icy hollows formed by volcanic magma. None of that science stole the wonder the cool air and icy surroundings brought to my soul. A true miracle withstands the assaults brought by science.

 

This path led us through Longhorn Caverns in Central Texas. The cave is the result of wind and water finding its way through seams of rock. It was a darkened space filled with the gentle breeze and the occasional rush of groundwater for tens of thousands of years. After humans stumbled onto it, they brought light into this sanctuary. The human soul found beauty in a space that had been the retreat for bats, crickets, and other creatures of the eternal darkness. As grateful as I am that we could walk this path, I wonder how much we have changed life for those who have lived here far longer than we had been on the continent. I wonder if they yearn for a return to their darkness.

 

 

This is a path through Chaco Canyon in Western New Mexico. It is the site of a pre-European city built 1,000 years ago. The ancients abandoned it when they discovered that large cities did not support their way of life. We walked this path most recently in 2023. We walked a similar path in 2024 in Cahokia, outside of St. Louis, where the native people of the Midwest came to the same conclusion and abandoned their huge mounds for the same reason. The land demands a humility of spirit to allow life to flourish for millennia instead of the slash-and-burn lifestyles of the moderns. My soul tells me that our footprints will be blown away in the winds of time, and the native people may reclaim their lands. 

 

 

This path leads through the hills and valleys of Dinosaur Monument National Monument in Colorado and Utah. This is a path through the hills surrounding the huge excavation where hundreds of prehistoric fossilized bones are preserved,.  It was warm, and I was not excited about making that walk. But, as always, Marlene wanted to "get some steps in."  Along the way, we saw ancient, fossilized shells of invertebrates in the rocks along the hillside. We saw the rocks that held impressions of a prehistoric thunderstorm on a muddy embankment. Despite the desolation of the place, that path led me to a time when this place brimmed with life and was home to magical creatures that challenged my imagination. Some paths are all about time travel, reminding us that the universe did not begin when Homo Sapiens first appeared alongside a stream in Ethiopia. 

 

 

Among the paths we have followed, the most enjoyable have often involved companions. Here is a long-time friend, Doug, who along, with his spouse Marcy (no pictured) joined us along a trail in the Bighorn Mountains. It was a path they had walked many times and shared with us. The countryside was beautiful, but I must admit, being with such congenial folks made that path a special treat for us. Sometimes, it is the company that makes the journey worthwhile.

 

This trail encircles a very old prayer circle on top of a mountain in the Bighorns. D.C. and Austin are nothing compared to the power I felt in this place. I saw countless offerings of tobacco and small goods tied to the posts and left at important points in the circle. The circle is formed by faith expressed as prayers, hopes, and dreams. People come here from all over the world because of the power that infuses the soul along the path. It has been here for thousands of years and still draws the faithful and skeptical alike to experience its magic. Most who come as seekers leave empowered and renewed. I am grateful that there are paths that lead me beyond my waspish, 21^st-century mindset and help me know that the universe is far more interesting than I have ever imagined.

 

The final image for this first edition on paths comes from The Badlands National Park in South Dakota. Some paths exist to help us see more of the horizon. The human spirit yearns for more. When I stumble upon a broad vista, I am not satisfied. I want more! Fortunately, some paths have been created to allow us to see beyond our limited senses and the limitations of daily life. Marlene and I want more and will walk as far as possible to feed that soul's desire.

 

What makes a path worth following? It must feed our soul. We cannot always know what a path has to offer, nor are we always aware of our soul's hunger. But we are inevitably fed by stepping out on the path, following where it leads, and listening to the voices along the way.

 

We will continue to seek the “something more” that awaits us. There are so many paths and so few years left to walk them. I hope you join us on our journey.

 

Travel well, my friends!

Bob

 

The ground beneath is foreign yet firm, 

each step unfolding like secrets revealed. 

Hesitation slows our pace, but 

every stride unveils sights unseen.

 

A burst of colors meets anxious eyes, 

lush greens, sky's expanse, the ocean’s roar— 

these are gifts wrapped in uncertainty, 

generous beauty we almost missed.

 

As we travel on, resistance fades, 

and joy seeps through, subtle, yet profound. 

We laugh at our fear, that cagey ghost, 

and bask in new wonders without constraint.

 

Paths diverging, converging, continue, 

each a promise of stories untold. 

We learn reluctance is just a veil, 

behind which opportunity blooms bright.

 

Walking onward, heart lightened by discovery, 

we find the journey itself is joy. 

Sometimes it’s reluctance, stark and quiet, 

that leads to the richest of destinations.