[glow=red,2,300]March 4-6, 2011 Bulli-Gras Galveston State Park The Texas Coalition of VW Buses (TCB) gathers in Galveston during the Mardi-Gras festival for camping and fun activities during this weekend. This will be the first post Ike gathering of TCB at the Galveston State Park.[/glow] The event was called Bulli Gras . Camping at one end of the island and the Mardi Gras festival at the other. It was our first real camp-out in my new bus, first time meeting the people in my local VW club, and first time out with my new side tent. We hadn't had a cloud in the sky for 6 weeks and were optimistic about the weather. Who new this was the weekend it would finally rain? We didn't much care. We were bound for fun come Hell or high water. We arrived in a particularly festive mood, busting out the booze and music and enjoying the new tent. The other club members came by a few at a time to meet us. They were mostly white-haired retirees looking down on us for our evil ways. They were rude and snobbish. They all went to bed at 9pm. How dull can you get? This was the bulk of our bleak little group. It was about 12* C and the wind was roaring in off the gulf. Not bad compared to later that evening. We started to get uncomfortable playing music and partying while surrounded by geriatrics who were trying to sleep, so we packed it in and went to bed. We could hear the undulating surf and the wind was beginning to gust, gently rocking the bus. Distant thunder could be heard out over the ocean. I had the back hatch open and was watching the stars through the rear screen as I drifted off in the best sleep of my entire life. Then it began to rain. Hard. It woke me up a few times and I groggily thought, "How nice, the patter of rain on the roof,...Zzzzzzz,.." Finally it was bladder that got me up. My feet were wet and cold. I saw water pouring in over the refrigerator. Curses! We forgot to close the windows! We didn't have a dry blanket in the bus. Even my pillows were wet. I stepped out into the tent and everything was floating. So I peed, zipped everything up, closed the windows and went back to bed. This small pond on the left was where we set up the tent. It was about 10cm deep by morning. Sadly, we had to move to the next spot over. By now the wind was a steady 65-70 kmh. We tried and tried to get the tent back up but it was too windy. At one point I noticed Marcie's feet were about a foot off the ground as she clung tightly to her corner. I knew then the battle was lost. Good old Marcie never made a peep about it. She just kept fighting the good fight. That woman is a trooper. So the 3 of us hung our wet blankets, wadded up the tent and crawled into the bus for warmth. Fortunately, we had the tools we needed to persevere. Thusly fortified, we were able to have fun and get the tent back up, as the wind had mellowed ever so slightly. I got the heater going and all was good. All the other campers drove to the Mardi Gras celebration, but we never made it. Once we were finally cozy again we saw that if we didn't stay and babysit all the other tents they would wind up half-way to Cuba by the time everybody got back. Some of them were gorgeous original side tents and the wind was spanking the holy Hell out them all. So we just broke out the cocktails and had our own party, dashing out every 20 minutes to tie some stranger's tent to the ground. We managed to have fun though. It still beat sitting at home on the computer writing to you people. Well everybody came back, packed up and left a day early. P*ssies, the lot of them and good riddance. We partied into the night, went to bed and woke to a gorgeous sunny day with the entire park and beach to ourselves. As mine was the only tent to survive the gale, I officially dubbed it Fort Buckminster. Now I need a flag. If this weekend proved anything it was that I could have fun at an orthopedic footwear convention if I had to. I can't believe you read the whole thing. Bless your bored lil heart.
