Remembering South Padre Before They Invented Spring Break

My grandfather, the late L.A. Wilke, seldom needed to look at a Texas highway map before leaving on a trip. In years of Chamber of Commerce work, and later as an executive with the Texas Good Roads Association, he had attended many meetings and hearings on highway projects. He knew the state's highways because he had helped push for their construction or expansion.

As a youngster in the 1950s and on through my young adulthood, I traveled with Granddad all over Texas. That's when I came to understand he was a one-man Texas Travel Guide. He knew something about every town in Texas, including the best places for an afternoon slice of pie washed down by a glass of "sweet milk."

A lot of our trips were in Granddad's white over gold 1957 Chevrolet. It had a big V-8 and an air conditioner, pretty avant-garde for the times. Every summer for years, Granddad took me along when he went to Port Isabel in the Rio Grande Valley to cover the annual International Sport Fishing Tournament for the magazine published by what was then the Texas Game and Fish Commission. (Now Parks and Wildlife Department.)

From Austin Granddad took I-35 (most Austinites called it Interregional back then) to San Marcos, where we hit State Highway 123 to Karnes City. Usually, we reached there in time for lunch at Barth's Restaurant, a place on U.S. 181 between Karnes City and Kenedy that's still in business and still good. From Kenedy, Granddad took State Highway 72 southwest to Three Rivers. There we'd turn south on U.S. 281. In Hidalgo County, Granddad cut over on State Highway 186 to Raymondville. Depending on the time of day, we might eat at the old White Wing Hotel, long closed but still standing in ruins.

From Raymondville, we'd take U.S. 77 to State Highway 100 and on east to Port Isabel. There, we either checked it at the old Yacht Basin Hotel or went across the relatively-new causeway to the Sandy Retreat, one of the first motels on a then mostly undeveloped Padre Island. A fried shrimp dinner at the Jetty's Restaurant (also gone today) was a must stop.

These days, I know Texas' highway system fairly well myself. But I sometimes have to consult a map. The way Granddad and I got to South Padre Island in the 1950s is no longer the most direct route, but along the roadways of my mind, it's still the shortest way to some wonderful summer memories of a boy with his Granddad.