Conroe Hotels
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Day Seventeen
Entry 17 of 119 | show all | print this entry |
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Summer and Fall are fighting it out here and I'm afraid that Fall may win. It was a windy fifty degrees this morning with no sign of any sun. Zoobley and I were very domestic and in anticipation of leaving Galveston Island for the bright lights of the Big "D" (Dallas, not divorce), we went grocery shopping and did laundry.
Before heading North, me and the Zoobs visited the Chamber of Commerce to learn a little about Galveston. It turns out that the Island has been inhabited since the early 1500s first by the Akokisa then the Karankawa Indians. Galveston gets it's name from Bernado de Galvez, the Spanish Viceroy to Mexico who sent surveyor Jose de Evia to map the Texas coast in 1786. De Evia, obviously being a brown nose, named the Island in honor of his patron. The island was an early base of operations for pirate Jean Lafitte and a key defense of the Texas Navy (Texas had a Navy?) in preventing supplies from reaching Santa Anna at San Jacinto in 1836 thus allowing Sam Houston's troops a decisive victory. Galveston's most infamous notoriety came with the hurricane of 1900 considered the worst natural disaster in U.S. history. Winds reaching 120 miles per hour and phenomenal tidal surges killed more than 6,000 people or approximately one-sixth of the city's population. Under the ludicrous assumption that we could make it from Galveston to Dallas in about four hours, Kudzu and I left town about 3:30 heading north on Interstate 45. Did I mention that we had to go through Houston on a Friday night? We covered a grand total of eighty-six miles in just over three hours and wearily gave up, stopping at Conroe for the night. I'm still not sure where all those people came from or where they were going. We spotted a La Quinta and since we have discovered that they are consistently reasonably priced, clean, serve a free breakfast, and most importantly, are Kudzu friendly, we checked in for the night. Much to our dismay, we discovered too late that about fifty twelve-year-old cheerleaders had also stopped there for the night. Give me a "K", give me a "U", give me a "D", give me a "Z", give me a "U." Go Zoobley!
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