The Man is a native Texan. He was born and raised in Houston. He relocated to Dallas in 1994. We have traveled I-45 between these two massive cities more times than I can count over the past twenty-five years, visiting and revisiting the people and places that shaped The Man’s past and forged his future. Embarrassingly, I don’t recall even once noticing that there was a State Park along the way, much less one as extraordinary as Huntsville State Park.
The Manling and I visited HSP in August 2018, unsure what to expect from a park that hadn’t managed to catch our attention over the course of two decades. What we discovered was an awesome park deep in the thick, towering pine trees of the Sam Houston National Forest. With a plethora of activities to choose and only six hours to spend, we quickly prioritized our line-up and began enjoying a leisurely summer afternoon around Lake Raven.
Knowing that The Manling’s primary love language is fishing, we headed for fishing spot numero uno – a pretty pier located between picturesque camping spots 154 and 157. While The Manling began reeling in fish after fish after fish, I spent some quality time with my iPhone attempting to capture the beauty of the place digitally.
Next, we explored the rest of the park from the inside of the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside), surprised to see so many tent campers enjoying the park deep in the throes of the hottest month of the year. August in Texas, dear reader, is akin to swimming in the lava pools of Mordor in Mount Doom. It’s hot as Hades. Did I mention the humidity? South Texas is famous for its heat AND its unbearable humidity. My mother-in-law, a native Houstonian, once told me that you have to have gills to breathe in Houston. It’s a thing. Look it up. And yet, there were families who had chosen to forsake the blessed comfort of air conditioning in order to make memories tent camping at HSP. I could drop the mic right there because that, amigo, says A LOT about the awesomeness of Huntsville State Park.
While exploring HSP from our sweet {air conditioned} seats in the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside), we discovered another fishing pier in the Coloneh Camping Area (between spots 78 and 82) and decided to pull over and drop a line in the water. Well, The Manling dropped a line. I grabbed my iPhone and continued my search for the perfect picture that would speak more than a thousand words to us both.
Here it is:
In the effort of full disclosure, I did not take that photo myself. Marsha did. Marsha was one of the many campers in the park that day, completely living la vida loca by camping in August with her hubs and three grandkiddos. Huntsville State Park, you see, is home to some of these bad boys and Marsha aimed to hook us with “front row seats” to see them up close, but not so up close that our own personal safety was at stake (a philosophy her dear husband did not share – story to follow, keep reading).
The Manling and I hunkered down on the pier, him with his rod and me with my iPhone, while we waited for one or more of the local ‘gators to make an appearance. Marsha gladly shared her experience (and the above photo) from the night before along with all the information she knew about alligators, including this little tidbit – the lines through the growth in the water hugging the shoreline and the pier were tracks made by the alligators as they entered and exited the water.
The Manling, Marsha’s husband, and two out of their three grandsons fished from the pier, catching hand-sized little fellas left and right. Marsha and I chatted. Time passed.
Marsha’s Man announced to the pier that he saw a ‘gator across the lake. Skeptical, The Manling and I shaded our eyes with our hands, squinted against the late afternoon glare off of the water, and slowly scanned the area that he indicated. We saw nothing. After surveying the area several times, I ventured to mention that I saw nothing, to which he responded, “That thing that looks like a log right there,” pointing exactly where I should look. Sure enough, we saw what looked like driftwood floating adjacent to the shoreline. Still somewhat skeptical that it was a bona fide alligator, The Manling and I took up “log watching” like it was an income-generating venture. And guess what. It WAS a bona fide alligator! (We were clued into this when a fish jumped out of the water and the “log” course-corrected to follow it. For about ten minutes.)
Assured by Marsha’s hubs that the thing would feed on the fish they were catching under the pier around 6pm, we not-so-patiently watched the clock, waiting for him to make his way across the lake to us so we could get a good look at him. By 6:30pm, he had disappeared altogether. Feeling slightly disappointed, we bid our new friends good-bye and headed to one last spot, a place that Marsha’s husband assured us he’d seen a 10-12 footer earlier in the day. After driving around for about fifteen minutes, unable to find the spot he had referenced, I unexpectedly got a text from Marsha that said the alligator had shown up! The Manling and I pointed the Tiny Toyota Tardis (because the Yaris is bigger on the inside) back toward the pier and were rewarded with these up-close encounters with a 5-6 footer –
After the excitement wore off (for the alligator, not us), Marsha’s Man hopped on a scooter and escorted us to the place he’d seen the 10-12 footer earlier in the day. Stopped on the side of the road, Marsha’s Man crossed the road and ventured into the dense brush under the towering pine trees. Alone. Wearing flip flops.
After searching a few minutes, he found what he had been looking for… sitting utterly motionless in the water looking at him, only his head visible. And it was a ginormous head. Can you see it?
After several failed attempts to lure The Manling into the brush to get a closer look (This came out of my mouth: “That’s going to be a hard ‘no’ because I love him. And your family loves you, too, so I think it would probably be best for you to come back out here with us.”), he finally joined us back on the road. In his excitement, he commenced trying to convince us that approaching the alligator’s home – for we assume it was indeed it’s home since there was a camera box in the brush pointing at it – wouldn’t be too unsafe. He eventually understood the meaning of our “no’s” in all of its varying forms, bid us farewell, and we parted ways – him back to the pier, us back to I-45…and the safety of our own home.
Why We Love Huntsville State Park
- Fishing. In our experience, it should be called “catching” at HSP. Go old school with worms.
- Camping. Like I said, there were tent campers. In August. In 100+ degree weather. That speaks volumes.
- Alligators. This could easily become classified as an obsession. Until this year, I had only seen alligators in the zoo or on the screen. It is insane to know they are around and that they aren’t out to get me. You know, like the snakes. Or the alligator on Lake Placid.
- Towering Pines. Being a native of Alabama the Beautiful, ya girl loves her towering pines. This places is tall tree heaven. Bonus: Lots of shade, which lowers the oppressive summer temps.
Must-Do’s
- Alligator Watch. Seriously! Go to the fishing pier. Take binoculars. Be patient. Better yet, ask Park Staff on your way in where the best place to spot an alligator is and follow their advice. (NOTE: The alligators are not tame. They are 100% wild. Keep your distance. Don’t be stupid.)
- Fish. The fishing piers were perfect for catching hand-sized fish. We didn’t drop a line anywhere else, but I’m sure the Park Staff could give you good tips. Just ask them when you check into the park.
- Camp. Beautiful, roomy camping spots. RV spots. Not your jam? How about a shelter with a/c? HSP has you covered, whatever your preference for camping.
- Hike. Because of the allure of the alligators, we ran out of time to be able to hike. I imagine the trails would be gorgeous winding through such beautiful trees. Let me know if you have first-hand experience. I’d love to hear from you.
We’d love to hear about your experiences at Huntsville State Park! Please share your thoughts on this no-longer-overlooked state park in the comments.
*In all natural areas, you are a guest. Educate yourself on what lives in the areas before your visits, always talk to the Park Rangers upon arrival and take precautions so that your experiences end as positively as ours.
The landscape as you drive I-20 in West Texas is flat. Really flat. It is literally mile after flat mile of basically the exact same view, which isn’t necessarily bad. It can, however, become monotonous. Which is why you take the five minute detour when you see the one raised portion of earth in Big Spring jutting out of it’s utterly flat surroundings.
