Darkness comes early this time of the year, and before we knew it, it was dark enough to head out. It'd been so cold up in Dallas, but get down to San Antonio and its almost balmy! Driving through the residential neighborhoods and I was still seeing roses in bloom. Bastards... my roses got froze off last week.
I've only been to the Riverwalk once before, and then I was very very sick, so I was really looking forward to it. I'm a sucker for christmas lights and love wandering around going "OOOOH!" at folks displays. We get closer into downtown and traffic stops. Apparently everybody thinks this is a wonderful idea for a Saturday night. No matter though. I'm in the car with my loves. Nobody needs to pee, and we're chattering away... oh, and I'm looking at downtown and going OOOH! at all the pretty little twinkling lights. Jacob is commenting that there must be a game going on for it to be this thick, but I really don't care. After living for many years in the Dallas / Fort Worth metroplex, you kinda get used to this kind of thing. Twenty minutes later, and we're finally off the exit ramp... and looking for a parking spot. Full... full.... 20$ parking???? Holy crap! Finally, Lady Luck smiles on us, and we find 12$ parking, AND an empty spot real close to the entrance / exit of the lot :) Yay us! *Happy dance*. I'm officially bouncy, and enjoying being in a fairly new to me city, lovely buildings, loads of history, fairly friendly people. OOOOh lookie! Horse drawn carriages! And holy crap they're decked out. They've got to have a couple car batteries under that thing for all the lights. Geez louise. I'm wandering around with my camera phone, taking pictures of everything, and being duly impressed.... til we come to the Alamo. As I said before, I've only been here once, and then I was very very very sick (as in hadn't eaten in almost two weeks) massive live oaks all around us, draped in teensy tiny lights, hanging down. The smell of the river, the hustle and bustle of the crowd, and the general history. A christmas tree there in the plaza that must have been three stories tall, all decked out.. and then the Alamo itself. I adore that place.. must go back sometime when we have more time to just wander around.
Down on the Riverwalk itself, its utterly divine. Little stands set up all up and down it, singing on the boats, not too terribly cold, just cool enough to make it comfortable to wear a light jacket. Poor Jacob, he should have known... you bring two women shopping / wandering with you, you WILL be stopped at every jewelery and sparkly shop we pass. I'd never seen Luminaries in real life, only on tv and magazines, and they're just too neat... but then again, I'm also exceptionally bouncy and everything is just too neat. The tiny little lights hanging from the trees over the river, the various bands playing through the cool night air, the laughter ringing through the crowd. ... and speaking of the crowd.. it was packed! Remember how I said there had been little stands set up all up and down the riverwalk? Well, also, being an exceptionally busy night, (we found out later that there was four major events going on that evening alone) and you could barely walk the riverwalk at all! There were times of me standing on the stones next to the river, hoping to god that nobody bumps into me or else I'd be soaked! Angela had the idea earlier in the evening for us to have dinner on the riverwalk, but after passing quite a few places with a 1 hour wait, two hour wait, and more, we opted to just eat at home. Its cheaper and much better than anything they could give us anyway :)
We head on back to the parents' place after getting slightly drizzled on, and wandering for a few more hours... and checking out every shop we come to, and there is a wonderful meal waiting for us, with card games later, and some wonderful fudge for a late night dessert. Climbing into bed, the glow from the christmas lights softly filtering through the curtains, we plan our adventures for the next day and reflect on the day's journeys. Tomorrow will be even better.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
A trip to the past.
Its been since October since we've been able to go on a trip and I've been going nuts wanting to get out and go see. A trip to San Antonio had been planned for some time and friday finally arrived. It almost got called because of other people and obligations, but I couldn't let that happen. I NEEDED to get out. To go see and do and be me again. To be free for a little while.
I finally get out of work and head down to meet up with Jacob and Angela, get the car packed, and wait... and wait.. and wait some more! Jacob is stuck at a work thing and doesn't get home until two hours later than he is supposed to, but at 8:30 we are off! Finally! But before we get too far, we must stop for food.
Stop at a fried chicken place, and they just can't seem to get orders right, but that's okay, there's nothing that can ruin my enjoyment of being free. There's a gentleman in there in coveralls and a sweatshirt that keeps on being real friendly, and I can't help but think I should know him. Is he actually flirting with me? Strange, but nice. I love Texan friendliness.
...And we're off! To go and see and do! To live! Flying down the freeway, the further we get from the metroplex, the more stars that can be seen. Chattering the entire way, laughter fills the car more often than not. I've never understood how anybody can not talk while in the car. To me, that's true quality time. Almost as good as pillowtalk. I love music, and if I am alone in the car, I almost always have something playing, but if I'm with someone, we WILL be talking. Its just right!
Late night, many hours of discussion, and the road flying past. Switch drivers, and I relax even further now that I'm driving. Getting farther away from all my cares, farther away from all those who would make demands of me. The open highway, the sound of the tires underneath me, the open road, and I'm free.
We arrive around 2:30 in San Antonio, set up the bed, and succumb to exaustion. An evening well spent, with so much to do and see tomorrow, and freedom tonight to rest and enjoy it all.
Homemade breakfast tacos for breakfast, one of my favourite things... and some truly incredible coffee to start the day, and the plan is to go out to Lukenbach for the day, go see some of the places that Jacob grew up at, see his history, and then to the riverwalk that evening when its all lit up for Christmas.
First, a house, then a park near there, where he used to go wander. A lovely pond with many many ducks, then to the woods. I immediately fall in love with them, and can't help but notice the turkey peppers growing wild on the side of the trail.
Further in, and it stops feeling like the city... a hush comes over the woods, an exclusion of the noise of the city. Hear the birds, hear the breeze in the trees, but for being in the middle of a major city, there's not much city noise. To the country girl, it feels right. Its a hell of a lot more hilly and steep than I'm accustomed to, but it is lovely. As we go along the trail, ravine on one side, and cliff on the other, he stops and points up the cliff and says there is the cave that he spent a lot of time in. I can't help myself, so up the cliff I go to see it. Almost a vertical face, and I'm BADLY out of shape, but I'm happy. I loved hiking all growing up, and the exertion just gets me in an even better mood. There's something about pushing yourself, about getting lost in the moment of finding your own limits and overcoming them, and about sharing that moment with someone that is special. I eventually make it up to the cave and look out. Trees and more trees and more trees. High up in a cliff overlooking a ravine and more hills. Peaceful. Timeless. All the hustle and bustle of the city is far away. The rocks speak of long ago, when that was ocean, of the cry of seabirds, but also of the more recent past, when all that area was untouched by human hand. I could spend a long time wandering those woods, and never tire of them. I look at Jacob, and know that this is his place, his home. More than any house ever was. This is the place that made him, and ask him to choose a rock from the cave. A piece of the cave, of his history, to take with us. To take into our future, and never forget what made him what he is.
After a few moments of peace, we hear kids further down the trail, breaking bottles and making a racket, and Angela far below us is getting rather worried because she can't come up with us, and we decide its time to go. He practically runs down the side of that cliff, years of experience with the rocky face evident in each stride, and I stand up and look down... and remember.. oh SHIT! I'm afraid of heights and I have to get down this thing! Jacob can't carry me, and even if he could, he's long gone. This is up to me. So, I laugh at my own fears, and start down on my butt. Crabbing down the nearly sheer rock wall, hanging onto brush and rocks and getting my butt covered in dirt. I eventually bound off at the bottom, laughing at myself and pleased, and we come back to a laughing Jacob. Apparently, the munchkins were rather spooked by a large biker dude with long dark hair telling them that they're done making a racket and its time to stop breaking shit.
And now, to Lukenbach!... or at least that was the plan. On our way out of town, we see a huge outdoor store and decide that Lukenbach is technically on our way home, so we can do that tomorrow.. lets stop here now. The place is duly impressive for an outdoor store in Texas, and has a two story waterfall, and not one, but TWO blue catfish in it... one of which is bigger than my coffee table! .. And they have fudge!
Back to the parents' place, to rest and recuperate and wait for nightfall. And then the Riverwalk!
I finally get out of work and head down to meet up with Jacob and Angela, get the car packed, and wait... and wait.. and wait some more! Jacob is stuck at a work thing and doesn't get home until two hours later than he is supposed to, but at 8:30 we are off! Finally! But before we get too far, we must stop for food.
Stop at a fried chicken place, and they just can't seem to get orders right, but that's okay, there's nothing that can ruin my enjoyment of being free. There's a gentleman in there in coveralls and a sweatshirt that keeps on being real friendly, and I can't help but think I should know him. Is he actually flirting with me? Strange, but nice. I love Texan friendliness.
...And we're off! To go and see and do! To live! Flying down the freeway, the further we get from the metroplex, the more stars that can be seen. Chattering the entire way, laughter fills the car more often than not. I've never understood how anybody can not talk while in the car. To me, that's true quality time. Almost as good as pillowtalk. I love music, and if I am alone in the car, I almost always have something playing, but if I'm with someone, we WILL be talking. Its just right!
Late night, many hours of discussion, and the road flying past. Switch drivers, and I relax even further now that I'm driving. Getting farther away from all my cares, farther away from all those who would make demands of me. The open highway, the sound of the tires underneath me, the open road, and I'm free.
We arrive around 2:30 in San Antonio, set up the bed, and succumb to exaustion. An evening well spent, with so much to do and see tomorrow, and freedom tonight to rest and enjoy it all.
Homemade breakfast tacos for breakfast, one of my favourite things... and some truly incredible coffee to start the day, and the plan is to go out to Lukenbach for the day, go see some of the places that Jacob grew up at, see his history, and then to the riverwalk that evening when its all lit up for Christmas.
First, a house, then a park near there, where he used to go wander. A lovely pond with many many ducks, then to the woods. I immediately fall in love with them, and can't help but notice the turkey peppers growing wild on the side of the trail.
Further in, and it stops feeling like the city... a hush comes over the woods, an exclusion of the noise of the city. Hear the birds, hear the breeze in the trees, but for being in the middle of a major city, there's not much city noise. To the country girl, it feels right. Its a hell of a lot more hilly and steep than I'm accustomed to, but it is lovely. As we go along the trail, ravine on one side, and cliff on the other, he stops and points up the cliff and says there is the cave that he spent a lot of time in. I can't help myself, so up the cliff I go to see it. Almost a vertical face, and I'm BADLY out of shape, but I'm happy. I loved hiking all growing up, and the exertion just gets me in an even better mood. There's something about pushing yourself, about getting lost in the moment of finding your own limits and overcoming them, and about sharing that moment with someone that is special. I eventually make it up to the cave and look out. Trees and more trees and more trees. High up in a cliff overlooking a ravine and more hills. Peaceful. Timeless. All the hustle and bustle of the city is far away. The rocks speak of long ago, when that was ocean, of the cry of seabirds, but also of the more recent past, when all that area was untouched by human hand. I could spend a long time wandering those woods, and never tire of them. I look at Jacob, and know that this is his place, his home. More than any house ever was. This is the place that made him, and ask him to choose a rock from the cave. A piece of the cave, of his history, to take with us. To take into our future, and never forget what made him what he is.After a few moments of peace, we hear kids further down the trail, breaking bottles and making a racket, and Angela far below us is getting rather worried because she can't come up with us, and we decide its time to go. He practically runs down the side of that cliff, years of experience with the rocky face evident in each stride, and I stand up and look down... and remember.. oh SHIT! I'm afraid of heights and I have to get down this thing! Jacob can't carry me, and even if he could, he's long gone. This is up to me. So, I laugh at my own fears, and start down on my butt. Crabbing down the nearly sheer rock wall, hanging onto brush and rocks and getting my butt covered in dirt. I eventually bound off at the bottom, laughing at myself and pleased, and we come back to a laughing Jacob. Apparently, the munchkins were rather spooked by a large biker dude with long dark hair telling them that they're done making a racket and its time to stop breaking shit.
And now, to Lukenbach!... or at least that was the plan. On our way out of town, we see a huge outdoor store and decide that Lukenbach is technically on our way home, so we can do that tomorrow.. lets stop here now. The place is duly impressive for an outdoor store in Texas, and has a two story waterfall, and not one, but TWO blue catfish in it... one of which is bigger than my coffee table! .. And they have fudge!
Back to the parents' place, to rest and recuperate and wait for nightfall. And then the Riverwalk!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
The Wurst Trip Ever! -- Day 2
Whoo -- chilly in the woods this morning! Funny, Brandy had said it was in the 90s when she came down this way about 2 weeks before...weird. We pack up camp -- oh look, there's the hole in the mattress...guess we need to get a patch kit sometime today -- and make our way up to the office to register the campsite. But before we go, I want to take a couple pictures of where we stopped -- hey, there's a river over the grassline next to the campsite! Cool! We found out later that it was the San Antonio River. Neat!
Well, we had planned to wander through the mission before we left the park, but before that, I wanted to get a shower. Angela's still a little iffy on the idea of using the public showers at the State Parks, but I guess growing up going to public schools and dealing with communal showers for P.E., I just plain don't think anything of it. Of course, these aren't always the best quality showers....the hot water was fine, but there was perely any water pressure -- I was wedged up against the wall trying to make sure everything got wet -- and that wall was cold! shivers
As I was drying off, my phone buzzed, and I checked it to see a very tender e-mail from Brandy telling me how much she missed us. With a soft smile, I began mentally composing what I would send back to her a little while later.
Angela and I walked around the mission, and were duly impressed by our surroundings, although neither of us is particularly religious. Angela lit a candle for her grandmother, and I got to ring the bell! The museum was interesting, showing how the Spanish missionaries converted the native peoples, and had several artifacts displayed related to the clothing, pottery, and stonework that was manufactured there. We saw a sundial that was little more than angled lines carved into a stone and a stick to create the shadow -- I think it was accurate, too! Oh, and best of all -- we saw a fox! Angela was giddy about seeing that fox for the rest of the trip.Finally, we opted to push on, figuring we would make our way south, eventually going through Port Aransas, for the sole purpose of riding the ferry to the island. I can't think of very many ferries in Texas, so if you've never been on one, I recommend it if only for the unique experience -- unfortunately, it doesn't last very long...just a few minutes.
We made our way down to Mustang Island State Park, where we found the beach to be pretty much empty. The red tide was mostly cleaned up, although we saw some dead fish here and there on the beach while collecting some shells. The wind was blasting away at us, but we looked forward to camping on the beach.It occured to us that we should probably consider what we planned to do for dinner...on our way out, I asked if it was permitted to have a campfire on the beach -- turned out we were allowed a small fire. Cool! Camping on the beach and a campfire! I was looking forward to getting back. We ended up buying some sausage, shrimp, and of course marshmallows....I even picked up some chocolate and graham crackers. We grabbed a small bag of firewood and some firestarters, and made our way back to the beach, where I pitched the tent......in the dark.....again. Then I dug a quick hole and struggled to keep the firelighters lit long enough to really catch while the wind was fighting me to blow them out. Eventually I got a little fire going, but it quickly became merely coals....the wind was not goign to allow me to get a decent cooking fire going, nor did it seem it planned to let the tent stand up either -- the dome was looking more like a squished nerf ball from the pressure the wind was putting on it. Sadly, it looked like we would not be able to feasibly remain on the beach, unless we planned on sleeping with the roof of the tent in our faces all night. Too bad, though -- the moon was full, the beach was empty, and the ocean was gorgeous. It was a glorious night, and we soaked it in for a while before we buried the fire, crammed the sandy tent into the trunk and made out way to my parents' house in San Antonio. On the way, I spent time on the phone with Brandy, which was helpful in keeping me awake when Angela dozed off.
Finally a bit after midnight, we rolled in, said brief hellos to the parents, then found a mattress and passed out.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
The Wurst Trip Ever! - Day 1
Nah, this trip wasn't actually bad....but we did end up at WurstFest in New Braunfels at one point, which led to an amusing title.....of course, that would be starting at the end of the trip.....rather than try and recount it backwards, I shall begin someplace more sensible.
Perhaps at the beginning....
Miracle of miracles, Angela managed to get a 4-day weekend....a little chat with the boss, and I managed to get the same one. Ideally, Brandy would have been able to go along as well....I think she had enough leave time, but for reasons more private than I care to reveal here, she was unable to join us, and we missed her greatly during the entire trip -- fortunately, I was at least able to stay in touch with her through IM and phone calls.
Of course, we ran into a potential snag right away....although I had gotten paid the day before, it wasn't deposited yet, and we still needed money to at least buy a tank of gas, not to mention other vacation expenses. Should be simple....just deposit my check with cash back, right?
Well....there's a bit of a problem there, as I still have not had the chance to replace the driver's license which was lost when my wallet was stolen a few weeks before....darn banks liking to see ID to give you money back from your check.
So we went to the bank and I put on my poor pitiful orphan face, asked nicely for alms, then recited a bunch of facts to prove I was me, and they let us have the money. Hurray! Quick stop at Kroger to fill the cooler, and we were--
--well, not quite off....thought it might be wise to check the tire pressure before heading out, as we know at least one of our tires has a very, veeeeerrrrrryyyy slow leak. Whipped out the tire gauge and, wow....no pressure at all.
"You've been driving on this?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. Miracle it hasn't shredded by now." Shrugging, I aired up the tires, and we finally hit the road....well, we were missing my jacket and the gazetteer, but we figured we weren't looking at back roads that were too obscure this time, and since we were going to the coast, where Brandy had been merely two weeks before and it was in the 90s then, we thought we could get by without them.
Note to self -- if you're forgetting something, ALWAYS go back and get it.
We started simple, stopping at the Kolache Bakery in Ennis (definitely a good breakfast), and then made our way down I-45 to Corsicana, where Angela loaded up on goodies at the Russell Stover factory. Afterward, we made a phone call to Galveston Beach state park to reserve a site to go camping that night.
See, Angela loves the ocean - it recharges her, and she had been wanting to try camping on the beach. This was the basic plan for the weekend -- to camp at least one night on a beach.
Sadly, at barely noon on the first weekend in November (you'd think tourist season would have wound down by then), Galveston was already booked up -- no available sites. So we check the next beach we think of, Mustang Island state park. They tell us there are open spaces at the moment, but that their beach camping is first come, first served.
So, Mustang Island is the plan! Off we go! Down 45 for a bit, then exit onto the back roads in Buffalo. mmmm....buffalo.....
Quick pause for a break in Marquez, and I decided to take a picture of the little backwoods corner of Texas we found ourselves in.....when as luck would have it, a rail inspection truck just happened to be passing that portion of the tracks right next to where we were parked. Well, you don't see one of those every day, so I whipped out the camera and snapped a picture.
On we go, eventually connecting to Highway 77 southbound, figuring we'd head down through Victoria and cut over toward Mustang Island by way of Port Aransas -- it's just too cool to ride the ferry. Unfortunately, darkness comes quickly in November (who'da thunk it?), and by the time we were going through Victoria, it was getting pretty dark and we were starting to feel the fatigue of driving all day. So, we decided to compromise and find a closer park to stop and camp at, and then make our way to the beach in the morning. Turned out the closest spot available would be Goliad State Park, so we changed course and made our way there.
Wow.
I'd never been to this state park before, which features a restored Spanish mission from about the 1700s. Driving up to the park and seeing its white walls all lit up with golden lights, it was like a beacon from the road. We decided right then that we had to explore it in more detail in the morning before we left.
We glanced at the office door and found that there were open tent campsites available, and made our way to the camping area. Down the steep gravel road and found a place to park, and then set up the tent in the dark (again). You know, I can't think of a time in which the sun was actually still up when I've set up that tent....we always seem to arrive as or after the sun is going down....guess we're just too easily distracted.
Aired up the mattress, and -- we're cursed. We've only used this mattress once before, and at that time, we didn't know that the two parts zipped together, so we spent an uncomfortable evening trying to balance on two separate twin mattresses. Later, we found they zipped together and were looking forward to a much more comfortable use of it.
This time? There was a hole in one mattress, and no practical way of finding it in the dark, much less repairing it. Fortunately, I'd slept on the ground many times before....not as comfortable as the air mattress, but still doable -- so I let Angela have the mattress and I slept on the floor of the tent.
Chilly that night, but not too windy -- the moon was nearly full and the stars were out...it was a great night for camping, and I slept much better than one would expect for lying on the ground...
Perhaps at the beginning....
Miracle of miracles, Angela managed to get a 4-day weekend....a little chat with the boss, and I managed to get the same one. Ideally, Brandy would have been able to go along as well....I think she had enough leave time, but for reasons more private than I care to reveal here, she was unable to join us, and we missed her greatly during the entire trip -- fortunately, I was at least able to stay in touch with her through IM and phone calls.
Of course, we ran into a potential snag right away....although I had gotten paid the day before, it wasn't deposited yet, and we still needed money to at least buy a tank of gas, not to mention other vacation expenses. Should be simple....just deposit my check with cash back, right?
Well....there's a bit of a problem there, as I still have not had the chance to replace the driver's license which was lost when my wallet was stolen a few weeks before....darn banks liking to see ID to give you money back from your check.
So we went to the bank and I put on my poor pitiful orphan face, asked nicely for alms, then recited a bunch of facts to prove I was me, and they let us have the money. Hurray! Quick stop at Kroger to fill the cooler, and we were--
--well, not quite off....thought it might be wise to check the tire pressure before heading out, as we know at least one of our tires has a very, veeeeerrrrrryyyy slow leak. Whipped out the tire gauge and, wow....no pressure at all.
"You've been driving on this?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. Miracle it hasn't shredded by now." Shrugging, I aired up the tires, and we finally hit the road....well, we were missing my jacket and the gazetteer, but we figured we weren't looking at back roads that were too obscure this time, and since we were going to the coast, where Brandy had been merely two weeks before and it was in the 90s then, we thought we could get by without them.
Note to self -- if you're forgetting something, ALWAYS go back and get it.
We started simple, stopping at the Kolache Bakery in Ennis (definitely a good breakfast), and then made our way down I-45 to Corsicana, where Angela loaded up on goodies at the Russell Stover factory. Afterward, we made a phone call to Galveston Beach state park to reserve a site to go camping that night.
See, Angela loves the ocean - it recharges her, and she had been wanting to try camping on the beach. This was the basic plan for the weekend -- to camp at least one night on a beach.
Sadly, at barely noon on the first weekend in November (you'd think tourist season would have wound down by then), Galveston was already booked up -- no available sites. So we check the next beach we think of, Mustang Island state park. They tell us there are open spaces at the moment, but that their beach camping is first come, first served.
So, Mustang Island is the plan! Off we go! Down 45 for a bit, then exit onto the back roads in Buffalo. mmmm....buffalo.....
Quick pause for a break in Marquez, and I decided to take a picture of the little backwoods corner of Texas we found ourselves in.....when as luck would have it, a rail inspection truck just happened to be passing that portion of the tracks right next to where we were parked. Well, you don't see one of those every day, so I whipped out the camera and snapped a picture.
On we go, eventually connecting to Highway 77 southbound, figuring we'd head down through Victoria and cut over toward Mustang Island by way of Port Aransas -- it's just too cool to ride the ferry. Unfortunately, darkness comes quickly in November (who'da thunk it?), and by the time we were going through Victoria, it was getting pretty dark and we were starting to feel the fatigue of driving all day. So, we decided to compromise and find a closer park to stop and camp at, and then make our way to the beach in the morning. Turned out the closest spot available would be Goliad State Park, so we changed course and made our way there.
Wow.
I'd never been to this state park before, which features a restored Spanish mission from about the 1700s. Driving up to the park and seeing its white walls all lit up with golden lights, it was like a beacon from the road. We decided right then that we had to explore it in more detail in the morning before we left.
We glanced at the office door and found that there were open tent campsites available, and made our way to the camping area. Down the steep gravel road and found a place to park, and then set up the tent in the dark (again). You know, I can't think of a time in which the sun was actually still up when I've set up that tent....we always seem to arrive as or after the sun is going down....guess we're just too easily distracted.
Aired up the mattress, and -- we're cursed. We've only used this mattress once before, and at that time, we didn't know that the two parts zipped together, so we spent an uncomfortable evening trying to balance on two separate twin mattresses. Later, we found they zipped together and were looking forward to a much more comfortable use of it.
This time? There was a hole in one mattress, and no practical way of finding it in the dark, much less repairing it. Fortunately, I'd slept on the ground many times before....not as comfortable as the air mattress, but still doable -- so I let Angela have the mattress and I slept on the floor of the tent.
Chilly that night, but not too windy -- the moon was nearly full and the stars were out...it was a great night for camping, and I slept much better than one would expect for lying on the ground...
Friday, September 29, 2006
Show Some Respect -- (Part Three)
Mmm, breakfast...feeling much better with a full belly, we paid and prepared to leave....on the way out though, we heard a great line from a local:
"It's been so dry, this morning I had to dust off my catfish."
With a smile on our faces, I rang the bell just outside the front door of the restaurant, and we continued on our way.
Our quest this morning was to see if we could find my grandmother's farm in Gray, TX. We were near (ish) the town, so it didn't take long to drive there, but once in Gray, the task became tricky. See, I hadn't been on the farm since I was 10 years old...and my grandparents on that side of the family had died some 5 or so years before...I hadn't heard from the uncle who inherited the land since shortly after that, and my father only gave vague directions about being 5-miles west of a T-Intersection in Louisiana. The road looked familiar, but all I really remembered was that there was a mailbox on the road near where we turned, and I remembered the red dirt road and trees to get there.
We drove up onto someone else's home, figuring we would try the "small town local" approach -- asked for the Palmer Farm, but unfortunately, he didn't know that it ever existed, much less where it had been. We found a red dirt road and drove up it a little way, but it didn't really look familiar. Back on the highway, we drove back and forth, and after a bit, spotted a sign for a church. I remember my grandmother taking me to church during the summers I visited, and figured they might actually have older records, so we cut up that way...
What do you know? We were in the right spot -- I recognized the church building! Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be there, so we went for Plan B -- call my dad for better directions.
Ooh, interesting trivia -- this turned out to have been the church I was baptized at. Well, we found something from my past, anyway...
Unfortunately, it turned out that my grandmother had in fact sold the farm, and it had been developed (ish), so would no longer be recognizable, but we were in the right general area, and that dirt road had probably been the right one. So we went back and explored it in detail -- found someone pumping oil or gas or something, and a hunter's blind....and a section of road where the rut was deep enough that Brandy's car just about bottomed out -- so I ended up driving with tires in the middle and on the edge of the road for a little while -- whee!
Quest in Gray as close to complete as we could get it, we crossed the border into Louisiana and [content hidden due to not taking place in Texas, and this is Wandering Texas, not Wandering Louisiana] crossed the border back into Texas and stopped at the Travel Information Center in Waskom. Brandy was starting to feel a migraine coming on, probably from overexertion with the walk around the lake that morning, or maybe just from the heat building up. We didn't leave before loading up on brochures and travel guides for more ideas. Back on the road and heading home...
Ooh, we spot a sign for pie, and our stomachs suddenly decided that we had to pull over and get something to eat -- NOW!! (Besides, everything's better with pie!) So we turn off and pull over in Liberty City....then while we're at it, stop and get some migraine meds for Brandy. Alas, but all the cool little shops are closed, so we can't do much there....but on a whim, we decide to divert to Tyler and see the Rose Garden. As we leave, it's beginning to rain, pretty heavily too....we spot a coupld bikers (and only one bike) stranded under a bridge, and it looked like they might be having a problem, so we take the next turnoff to turn around and head back that way to see if we can offer assistance, or at least a ride to the next town.
Hm...they weren't there when we got back to the bridge they were at. We guessed that maybe they were just putting on their rain gear or something...well, rather than turning around again, we opted to take a road that wasn't even labeled in the Gazetteer -- just a thin red line that eventually met up with a road that went to Tyler.
Pulling into Tyler, we smelled BBQ, reminding us again that we were hungry (funny how easy it is to forget stuff like that). We got to the Rose Museum and found that they were closed....sorry Brandy, foiled again. Since we were there anyway, we decided to see what restaurants were available on the way out of town.
Would you believe that in Tyler, every steak and BBQ restaurant on the west side of down is either closed by 6 on Sunday, not open on Sunday, abandoned, or burned down? It's true!
Sigh....on we go, taking the back road to Canton (nope, still no food, although a gas station attendant directed us to a BBQ place that we had seen was closed on the way into town)....then to Kaufman (no luck there, either), and finally up 175 and back toward home, where we stopped and grabbed dinner at...
...Arby's. Oh well -- it was barbecue...ish. Lots of rain, lots of driving, and lots of talking, not to mention loads of fun. All-in-all, a successful adventure!
Some might look at the distances we were driving and wonder at why we would take off and spend so much money in gasoline driving that far. If all you're looking at is the price of gas when it comes to travel, then you're missing the point entirely.
A road trip is not about where you go. It's not about how far it was, or how much money you spent in gas. Road trips aren't like a trip to go see a movie. To simply go straight there and back, following the major interstate -- it takes away some of the magic of the journey. Once upon a time, people always took the back way. Those picnic areas were put all over the place because people would actually pack food, stop, cook on the provided grill, and enjoy the scenery while standing still to take it all in. There's no need to rush....find a destination that's normally only 3 hours away, and then plot a course that takes all day to get there. Stop in the small towns, go swimming, have a picnic, or just sit and breathe outside the airconditioned car for a little while.
You never know -- you might find yourself craving more road trips yourself.
"It's been so dry, this morning I had to dust off my catfish."
With a smile on our faces, I rang the bell just outside the front door of the restaurant, and we continued on our way.
Our quest this morning was to see if we could find my grandmother's farm in Gray, TX. We were near (ish) the town, so it didn't take long to drive there, but once in Gray, the task became tricky. See, I hadn't been on the farm since I was 10 years old...and my grandparents on that side of the family had died some 5 or so years before...I hadn't heard from the uncle who inherited the land since shortly after that, and my father only gave vague directions about being 5-miles west of a T-Intersection in Louisiana. The road looked familiar, but all I really remembered was that there was a mailbox on the road near where we turned, and I remembered the red dirt road and trees to get there.
We drove up onto someone else's home, figuring we would try the "small town local" approach -- asked for the Palmer Farm, but unfortunately, he didn't know that it ever existed, much less where it had been. We found a red dirt road and drove up it a little way, but it didn't really look familiar. Back on the highway, we drove back and forth, and after a bit, spotted a sign for a church. I remember my grandmother taking me to church during the summers I visited, and figured they might actually have older records, so we cut up that way...
What do you know? We were in the right spot -- I recognized the church building! Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be there, so we went for Plan B -- call my dad for better directions.
Ooh, interesting trivia -- this turned out to have been the church I was baptized at. Well, we found something from my past, anyway...
Unfortunately, it turned out that my grandmother had in fact sold the farm, and it had been developed (ish), so would no longer be recognizable, but we were in the right general area, and that dirt road had probably been the right one. So we went back and explored it in detail -- found someone pumping oil or gas or something, and a hunter's blind....and a section of road where the rut was deep enough that Brandy's car just about bottomed out -- so I ended up driving with tires in the middle and on the edge of the road for a little while -- whee!
Quest in Gray as close to complete as we could get it, we crossed the border into Louisiana and [content hidden due to not taking place in Texas, and this is Wandering Texas, not Wandering Louisiana] crossed the border back into Texas and stopped at the Travel Information Center in Waskom. Brandy was starting to feel a migraine coming on, probably from overexertion with the walk around the lake that morning, or maybe just from the heat building up. We didn't leave before loading up on brochures and travel guides for more ideas. Back on the road and heading home...
Ooh, we spot a sign for pie, and our stomachs suddenly decided that we had to pull over and get something to eat -- NOW!! (Besides, everything's better with pie!) So we turn off and pull over in Liberty City....then while we're at it, stop and get some migraine meds for Brandy. Alas, but all the cool little shops are closed, so we can't do much there....but on a whim, we decide to divert to Tyler and see the Rose Garden. As we leave, it's beginning to rain, pretty heavily too....we spot a coupld bikers (and only one bike) stranded under a bridge, and it looked like they might be having a problem, so we take the next turnoff to turn around and head back that way to see if we can offer assistance, or at least a ride to the next town.
Hm...they weren't there when we got back to the bridge they were at. We guessed that maybe they were just putting on their rain gear or something...well, rather than turning around again, we opted to take a road that wasn't even labeled in the Gazetteer -- just a thin red line that eventually met up with a road that went to Tyler.
Pulling into Tyler, we smelled BBQ, reminding us again that we were hungry (funny how easy it is to forget stuff like that). We got to the Rose Museum and found that they were closed....sorry Brandy, foiled again. Since we were there anyway, we decided to see what restaurants were available on the way out of town.
Would you believe that in Tyler, every steak and BBQ restaurant on the west side of down is either closed by 6 on Sunday, not open on Sunday, abandoned, or burned down? It's true!
Sigh....on we go, taking the back road to Canton (nope, still no food, although a gas station attendant directed us to a BBQ place that we had seen was closed on the way into town)....then to Kaufman (no luck there, either), and finally up 175 and back toward home, where we stopped and grabbed dinner at...
...Arby's. Oh well -- it was barbecue...ish. Lots of rain, lots of driving, and lots of talking, not to mention loads of fun. All-in-all, a successful adventure!
Some might look at the distances we were driving and wonder at why we would take off and spend so much money in gasoline driving that far. If all you're looking at is the price of gas when it comes to travel, then you're missing the point entirely.
A road trip is not about where you go. It's not about how far it was, or how much money you spent in gas. Road trips aren't like a trip to go see a movie. To simply go straight there and back, following the major interstate -- it takes away some of the magic of the journey. Once upon a time, people always took the back way. Those picnic areas were put all over the place because people would actually pack food, stop, cook on the provided grill, and enjoy the scenery while standing still to take it all in. There's no need to rush....find a destination that's normally only 3 hours away, and then plot a course that takes all day to get there. Stop in the small towns, go swimming, have a picnic, or just sit and breathe outside the airconditioned car for a little while.
You never know -- you might find yourself craving more road trips yourself.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Show some respect! - Part Two!
Trees! Real, honest to goodness, TREES! Gods I love East Texas. The smell alone is absolutely amazing.... old growth pine forests, especially when damp. I can breathe there. I can be alive there. Truly glorious old forest, with the right smells, the right sounds of no traffic, but of birds, frogs, bugs, and the wind far above our heads whispering through the pine needles.
Pulling into the park somewhere around 7ish, we find that not only is the park office closed, but they've got this real sweet little sign up saying that we don't have to take the reserved spot, but can have any spot we want! Sweet! And wandering commences through the park finding the perfect spot. Boyscouts and a hispanic family dominate one area, but there's very few folks over in the other area, and its blessedly quiet. While I don't particularly mind tejano music, I mind it invading and permeating my enjoyment of the woods. Turn it down please.
Setting up camp was so very easy with two people. The tent went up very quickly, and then there was something I'd never heard of before when camping... an air bed. Well, sure. Why not? The reason why will come later in the story.
Camp set up, I wanna go canoeing. Last time we were there, they had paddleboats and canoes for rent, so I'd been looking forward to it the entire way out there... but nutbunnies! They're closed! We were too late! hrm. Lake + swimming gear (sorry kiddos, this is a state park with boyscouts everywhere) + getting rather close to sunset.... screw it. Lets go swimming!
HOOOOLY CRAP that water was cold! Many gasps and squeals and giggles at somebody else experiencing the same thing... especially when certain dangly bits hit that cold water... that still makes me laugh! Inching in, step by step, just slowly getting used to that rather frigid water. Fishies around our feet, wondering the same thing that we are "Are you my dinner?" Splashfights and diving, and the Spectacles That Can See Through Time trying to make a break for Davy Jones locker. I love swimming, but not in concrete chemical pools. I love swimming in the rivers and lakes, to enjoy the outdoors. Lying back in my love's arms, floating, completley care free.. no sound but our breathing and heartbeats, nothing touching but each other... a glorious sunset overhead, streamers of gold and pink and purple. It doesn't get much closer than this. One perfect moment was found.
Allrighty then... its getting dark and we're about 10 miles outside of an itty bitty little small town in East Texas.. we'd better get a move on or we may not get supper! So, we hurry up, get changed, and head on into town... to the Not a Dairy Queen - Hawkins family restaurant. Food was plentiful and cheap and smartass comments were made that you know you're in Texas when you look up on the overhead menu and see fried okra on the list! And they had sweet tea! Ahh, heaven. Heading out, I hadn't noticed anything on the menu mentioning breakfast, so I thought I'd ask where to get some in the morning. Well, lo and behold, they serve breakfast, and were shocked to find out we were camping over at Lake Daingerfield. Apparently the locals thought it was closed for some odd reason. I guess that explains why it was so empty!
Yup. Its official. Getting back to the campsite, I had officially hit the giddy stage of the trip.
Lying in bed, yeah, it was hot, no, there wasn't hardly any wind on the forest floor, but oh my god that bed was heaven! Listening to the crickets and the frogs and the raccoons and above all, the wind in the pines way above. Listening to it come through the forest, curl back, as it progressed and change course... almost could see it. The sky had cleared, and I was almost wishing we hadn't set up the tent, but just left our sleeping bags out in the open. Close your eyes and just listen to the wind... whispering of unknown paths, whispering of the ocean to the south, playing with the tops of the trees, kissing them as it took a piece of them to the next place farther on. Occasionally you would have a breeze come down to run through the forest, play with the needles on the ground and gently rustle the underbrush, and then you'd hear it go back up. I fell asleep listening to the sound of the wind in the trees.
Damn Jays. Don't they know daybreak is way too early to be making that much racket? And when did they get to be in tune with the amount of tea I drank last night? Well, hell. Its time to get up. On the way out of the restroom, we notice this trail running off. You remember what I said before about animal trails being a worse temptation than country roads? What's better to get you ready for breakfast than an early morning hike around the lake? I was raised being taught native foods, and have furthered my own education out of simple curiosity, so I couldn't help myself but spot everything medicinal and edible on the way. Mmmmmm chicken-of-the-wood mushrooms. Mmmmm wild grapes, and blackberries, and there's some lambs' quarters, and cattails and pond lilies and fish and raccoon tracks and I do believe I'm hungry!
We eventually make it back to camp, showered (sorta) and headed out. We got back to the main road and had a decision to make. West = home. We'd be back fairly early and could get some stuff done. Get breakfast at the Not a Dairy Queen. ... or we could go East. We weren't that far from Jacob's grandmother's farm in Gray.... or from Caddo Lake. ... Neither one of us was really ready to head back, so we headed East again.
A handpainted sign on the side of the road promised breakfast ahead, and we've both learned that the best food comes from the handpainted signs, so a glorious breakfast was found (eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, homemade buttermilk biscuits, gravy, taters, fresh homemade butter) and a lovely view of some nicely chatty bouncy jiggly bits. I do believe its very true when I quote someone saying "They do grow 'em nice down here"
..... to be continued in part 3.
Pulling into the park somewhere around 7ish, we find that not only is the park office closed, but they've got this real sweet little sign up saying that we don't have to take the reserved spot, but can have any spot we want! Sweet! And wandering commences through the park finding the perfect spot. Boyscouts and a hispanic family dominate one area, but there's very few folks over in the other area, and its blessedly quiet. While I don't particularly mind tejano music, I mind it invading and permeating my enjoyment of the woods. Turn it down please.
Setting up camp was so very easy with two people. The tent went up very quickly, and then there was something I'd never heard of before when camping... an air bed. Well, sure. Why not? The reason why will come later in the story.
Camp set up, I wanna go canoeing. Last time we were there, they had paddleboats and canoes for rent, so I'd been looking forward to it the entire way out there... but nutbunnies! They're closed! We were too late! hrm. Lake + swimming gear (sorry kiddos, this is a state park with boyscouts everywhere) + getting rather close to sunset.... screw it. Lets go swimming!
HOOOOLY CRAP that water was cold! Many gasps and squeals and giggles at somebody else experiencing the same thing... especially when certain dangly bits hit that cold water... that still makes me laugh! Inching in, step by step, just slowly getting used to that rather frigid water. Fishies around our feet, wondering the same thing that we are "Are you my dinner?" Splashfights and diving, and the Spectacles That Can See Through Time trying to make a break for Davy Jones locker. I love swimming, but not in concrete chemical pools. I love swimming in the rivers and lakes, to enjoy the outdoors. Lying back in my love's arms, floating, completley care free.. no sound but our breathing and heartbeats, nothing touching but each other... a glorious sunset overhead, streamers of gold and pink and purple. It doesn't get much closer than this. One perfect moment was found.
Allrighty then... its getting dark and we're about 10 miles outside of an itty bitty little small town in East Texas.. we'd better get a move on or we may not get supper! So, we hurry up, get changed, and head on into town... to the Not a Dairy Queen - Hawkins family restaurant. Food was plentiful and cheap and smartass comments were made that you know you're in Texas when you look up on the overhead menu and see fried okra on the list! And they had sweet tea! Ahh, heaven. Heading out, I hadn't noticed anything on the menu mentioning breakfast, so I thought I'd ask where to get some in the morning. Well, lo and behold, they serve breakfast, and were shocked to find out we were camping over at Lake Daingerfield. Apparently the locals thought it was closed for some odd reason. I guess that explains why it was so empty!
Yup. Its official. Getting back to the campsite, I had officially hit the giddy stage of the trip.
Lying in bed, yeah, it was hot, no, there wasn't hardly any wind on the forest floor, but oh my god that bed was heaven! Listening to the crickets and the frogs and the raccoons and above all, the wind in the pines way above. Listening to it come through the forest, curl back, as it progressed and change course... almost could see it. The sky had cleared, and I was almost wishing we hadn't set up the tent, but just left our sleeping bags out in the open. Close your eyes and just listen to the wind... whispering of unknown paths, whispering of the ocean to the south, playing with the tops of the trees, kissing them as it took a piece of them to the next place farther on. Occasionally you would have a breeze come down to run through the forest, play with the needles on the ground and gently rustle the underbrush, and then you'd hear it go back up. I fell asleep listening to the sound of the wind in the trees.
Damn Jays. Don't they know daybreak is way too early to be making that much racket? And when did they get to be in tune with the amount of tea I drank last night? Well, hell. Its time to get up. On the way out of the restroom, we notice this trail running off. You remember what I said before about animal trails being a worse temptation than country roads? What's better to get you ready for breakfast than an early morning hike around the lake? I was raised being taught native foods, and have furthered my own education out of simple curiosity, so I couldn't help myself but spot everything medicinal and edible on the way. Mmmmmm chicken-of-the-wood mushrooms. Mmmmm wild grapes, and blackberries, and there's some lambs' quarters, and cattails and pond lilies and fish and raccoon tracks and I do believe I'm hungry!
We eventually make it back to camp, showered (sorta) and headed out. We got back to the main road and had a decision to make. West = home. We'd be back fairly early and could get some stuff done. Get breakfast at the Not a Dairy Queen. ... or we could go East. We weren't that far from Jacob's grandmother's farm in Gray.... or from Caddo Lake. ... Neither one of us was really ready to head back, so we headed East again.
A handpainted sign on the side of the road promised breakfast ahead, and we've both learned that the best food comes from the handpainted signs, so a glorious breakfast was found (eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, homemade buttermilk biscuits, gravy, taters, fresh homemade butter) and a lovely view of some nicely chatty bouncy jiggly bits. I do believe its very true when I quote someone saying "They do grow 'em nice down here"
..... to be continued in part 3.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Show Some Respect! (Part One)
Another first for our relationship this weekend, as this was to be the first time I took Brandy camping. Unfortunately, Angela had to work this time, but she trusts and loves both of us, and knew that Brandy would really appreciate a chance to go camping again (she hasn't been in over a decade).
Our destination was Lake Daingerfield State Park, which we had gone to on a whim a couple of weeks before, and fell in love with the place. Go ahead, insert your Rodney Daingerfield quips here -- not like we didn't joke about the park that gets no respect for most of the trip.
We got a late start Saturday, partly because I wanted us to spend some time with Angela before she had to leave for work, but mostly because we didn't get out of bed till 10:30 or so, showered, had leftover pot roast for breakfast, etc. Why wake up so late? Um....we took a sneak preview trip with all three of us the night before and didn't get back till after midnight, and not to sleep until after 2am or so?
Course, that was fun, too -- on the way back, we passed a sign for the town of Cumby. You remember Cumby, don't you? White rubbery guy, kinda shaped like an eraser with arms? Rides a Trojan horse named Pokey? (Believe it or not, the jokes actually managed to get worse than that) -- Somewhere, we passed a sign for a city that was something to do with weaving or a loom....so naturally, I had plenty of bad puns for that too.
But back to Saturday, the actual day of the trip! Brandy had been acting kinda cool or bored all morning, but it turned out she had just been trying to contain her excitement so she didn't work herself up into a frenzy. Angela left for work while I was still working my way through my breakfast, and Brandy was watching me, waiting for me to finish so we could go -- the car was already packed. After a little bit, the roommate happened to wander out.
"Hey Guido, do you want the rest of this?"
"what, pot roast? Um, sure, I'll finish it."
"Okay, bye!" WHOOOOSH!! And we were out the door -- I don't think I even heard the fork hit the table, we rushed out so fast!
Up the back way to 67, and then east on I-20 to make a little distance and get out of the metroplex...although I wanted to see more of Highway 80 before cutting up to the route I had plotted for scenery. So we turned up through Mesquite just after we got outside Loop 635, and we went through a very small-town-looking area until we finally went over a bridge and got to Highway 80. Of course, as we passed over the bridge, we were above a small road that followed the railroad tracks and looked like it would be a nice ride in itself...gonna have to figure out how to get down there to that little road sometime.
As we drove along toward Terrell, we wnet through Forney and spotted some rustic antique stores that we decided we must check out next time we're in the area, as unfortunately, we only saw them as we were going past. We entered Terrell and cut north into the boonies, and Brandy showed her country roots when she tried out for a stunt driver role in the next Dukes of Hazzard movie -- we hit a dip or bump in the road in Terrell and actually left the pavement for a bit! Interestingly enough, a little while later, the noise that had been coming from Brandy's rear passenger wheel (a worn brake, we think), stopped -- so maybe the bump was all it needed.
Zipping up the ranch road, we cut over to another ranch road, and went through Poetry, TX. Granted, we didn't know until a little bit later that it was a town called Poetry -- all we knew was that we passed a water tower labeled in nice calligraphy -- Poetry. Naturally, we felt this deserved a poem:
Yeah, that's what happens when you write a poem in 5 minutes or so...as we continued along this road, making up really bad poetry, we saw a historical marker pointing at a cemetary, which we decided to check out. Of course, we don't always stop for these, but something told us this would be one of the interesting ones. And it was -- with the earliest grave from 1871, and the most recent for a Vietnam vet buried in 2000...the cemetary is closed for burial now, but two markers that caught my eye -- one was for a Woodsman (a title of some kind) from the Poetry camp. It was 5 feet tall and resembled a petrified tree trunk. The other was amazing just in trying to figure out what kind of magic metal it was made of -- it barely had any rust and was erected in 1882 -- it still looked brand new!
On our way out, we paused to retie the rope that held the gate shut, and commented on the recent litter of plastic easter eggs and broken bottles, then talked about a cemetary found where the city of Dallas is extending the Tollway north -- right now there's a big battle going on between the city planners and the archaeologists. While I don't necessarily see the point of going to a great deal of expense in the disposal of a body that life has departed, I do believe in history and showing respect for the wishes of those who came before us. If they built a place to house their dead, then that is a monument to their work and their lives. It shouldn't be bulldozed and buried, then forgotten as people simply commute across their graves.
At last we reached highway 276, where we would finally be turning east toward our eventual destination. A quick stop for drinks and some gas, and we were off again!
Ooh, antiques in Quinlan! The row of shops caught our eye, and we had to pause and wander. While browsing, we saw a black laquer Japanese changing screen that my father would probably go nuts over, and a gigantic grandfather clock that would be stunning with a little careful polishing. In the next store, I spotted an old Boy Scout handbook and with camping on the mind, couldn't help flipping through it a bit. Then Brandy called me to the other side of the store -- she had found her mother's glassware, for only $56 for a set of 14. She desperately wanted to get them, but alas, she had a budget limit for the weekend, and buying them would stress it. I could tell that it broke her heart to leave that find behind us as we drove out of Quinlan.
It seems I chose a very scenic route this time -- we ended up crossing 3 lakes on the way -- 1 of them twice! I love the water, and there's just something special to me about seeing a large expanse of blue leading away -- it's like looking into infinity, even if I can see the shoreline on the other side. It's one of the reasons I moved where I did -- at any time, I can go about 5 minutes away from my house and enjoy a view of the lake. We also went through the ghost town of Coke, where we saw an old store and a firehouse that closed in 1905.
In time, we made out way into Pittsburg, but unfortunately too late to see the Ezikiel
Airship, as the museum was closed. ChickFest seemed to be winding down, too, but we got to park and wander around Main Street, poking in a couple of antique stores -- we found a cool replica of a Chinese ship, with wooden sails. We also found a 1906 edition of a card game called Gavitt's Stock Exchange. This is a trading game in which a deck is distributed to all players, and it contains several rail lines, each with 8 cards of stock. You're trading with the other players all at the same time, trying to get a complete set, then call "Topeka", and win the game. The game was originally produced in 1903, so I was sorely tempted to pick it up -- maybe next time I'm through. Did I mention I was a game nut? Go see my other writings at A Gamer's Eye for more on that subject.
We also stopped in a soda shop, which, while artificial nostalgia, still served a good malt -- Brandy had cherry and I went with chocolate. After walking around for a bit more, admiring the scenery, we decided we'd stopped enough -- it was time to go camping!
We made our way to Daingerfield, and got a brush to finally sweep the sand out of the tent when I pitched it, as well as a couple of sodas. We wouldn't be able to cook at the campsite, as there was a burn ban -- no fires at all, but that was okay...we'd just get dinner somewhere. The sky was looking very threatening, and we felt a few drops of rain, and decided we'd dawdled more than enough....
to be continued
Our destination was Lake Daingerfield State Park, which we had gone to on a whim a couple of weeks before, and fell in love with the place. Go ahead, insert your Rodney Daingerfield quips here -- not like we didn't joke about the park that gets no respect for most of the trip.
We got a late start Saturday, partly because I wanted us to spend some time with Angela before she had to leave for work, but mostly because we didn't get out of bed till 10:30 or so, showered, had leftover pot roast for breakfast, etc. Why wake up so late? Um....we took a sneak preview trip with all three of us the night before and didn't get back till after midnight, and not to sleep until after 2am or so?
Course, that was fun, too -- on the way back, we passed a sign for the town of Cumby. You remember Cumby, don't you? White rubbery guy, kinda shaped like an eraser with arms? Rides a Trojan horse named Pokey? (Believe it or not, the jokes actually managed to get worse than that) -- Somewhere, we passed a sign for a city that was something to do with weaving or a loom....so naturally, I had plenty of bad puns for that too.
But back to Saturday, the actual day of the trip! Brandy had been acting kinda cool or bored all morning, but it turned out she had just been trying to contain her excitement so she didn't work herself up into a frenzy. Angela left for work while I was still working my way through my breakfast, and Brandy was watching me, waiting for me to finish so we could go -- the car was already packed. After a little bit, the roommate happened to wander out.
"Hey Guido, do you want the rest of this?"
"what, pot roast? Um, sure, I'll finish it."
"Okay, bye!" WHOOOOSH!! And we were out the door -- I don't think I even heard the fork hit the table, we rushed out so fast!
Up the back way to 67, and then east on I-20 to make a little distance and get out of the metroplex...although I wanted to see more of Highway 80 before cutting up to the route I had plotted for scenery. So we turned up through Mesquite just after we got outside Loop 635, and we went through a very small-town-looking area until we finally went over a bridge and got to Highway 80. Of course, as we passed over the bridge, we were above a small road that followed the railroad tracks and looked like it would be a nice ride in itself...gonna have to figure out how to get down there to that little road sometime.
As we drove along toward Terrell, we wnet through Forney and spotted some rustic antique stores that we decided we must check out next time we're in the area, as unfortunately, we only saw them as we were going past. We entered Terrell and cut north into the boonies, and Brandy showed her country roots when she tried out for a stunt driver role in the next Dukes of Hazzard movie -- we hit a dip or bump in the road in Terrell and actually left the pavement for a bit! Interestingly enough, a little while later, the noise that had been coming from Brandy's rear passenger wheel (a worn brake, we think), stopped -- so maybe the bump was all it needed.
Zipping up the ranch road, we cut over to another ranch road, and went through Poetry, TX. Granted, we didn't know until a little bit later that it was a town called Poetry -- all we knew was that we passed a water tower labeled in nice calligraphy -- Poetry. Naturally, we felt this deserved a poem:
Silver tower, oh so tall
will one day wobble, tip, and fall
and I forsee - I don't know how
that it will land upon a cow
we'll roll it off and see it flat
then cut some steaks, just like that
and Uncle Jim, who doesn't chew
will choke it down, which just won't do
we'll have to save him from Death's door,
but that's okay - we've done before
the smell of food will overpower
all thanks to a fallen tower.
Yeah, that's what happens when you write a poem in 5 minutes or so...as we continued along this road, making up really bad poetry, we saw a historical marker pointing at a cemetary, which we decided to check out. Of course, we don't always stop for these, but something told us this would be one of the interesting ones. And it was -- with the earliest grave from 1871, and the most recent for a Vietnam vet buried in 2000...the cemetary is closed for burial now, but two markers that caught my eye -- one was for a Woodsman (a title of some kind) from the Poetry camp. It was 5 feet tall and resembled a petrified tree trunk. The other was amazing just in trying to figure out what kind of magic metal it was made of -- it barely had any rust and was erected in 1882 -- it still looked brand new!
On our way out, we paused to retie the rope that held the gate shut, and commented on the recent litter of plastic easter eggs and broken bottles, then talked about a cemetary found where the city of Dallas is extending the Tollway north -- right now there's a big battle going on between the city planners and the archaeologists. While I don't necessarily see the point of going to a great deal of expense in the disposal of a body that life has departed, I do believe in history and showing respect for the wishes of those who came before us. If they built a place to house their dead, then that is a monument to their work and their lives. It shouldn't be bulldozed and buried, then forgotten as people simply commute across their graves.
At last we reached highway 276, where we would finally be turning east toward our eventual destination. A quick stop for drinks and some gas, and we were off again!
Ooh, antiques in Quinlan! The row of shops caught our eye, and we had to pause and wander. While browsing, we saw a black laquer Japanese changing screen that my father would probably go nuts over, and a gigantic grandfather clock that would be stunning with a little careful polishing. In the next store, I spotted an old Boy Scout handbook and with camping on the mind, couldn't help flipping through it a bit. Then Brandy called me to the other side of the store -- she had found her mother's glassware, for only $56 for a set of 14. She desperately wanted to get them, but alas, she had a budget limit for the weekend, and buying them would stress it. I could tell that it broke her heart to leave that find behind us as we drove out of Quinlan.
It seems I chose a very scenic route this time -- we ended up crossing 3 lakes on the way -- 1 of them twice! I love the water, and there's just something special to me about seeing a large expanse of blue leading away -- it's like looking into infinity, even if I can see the shoreline on the other side. It's one of the reasons I moved where I did -- at any time, I can go about 5 minutes away from my house and enjoy a view of the lake. We also went through the ghost town of Coke, where we saw an old store and a firehouse that closed in 1905.
In time, we made out way into Pittsburg, but unfortunately too late to see the Ezikiel
Airship, as the museum was closed. ChickFest seemed to be winding down, too, but we got to park and wander around Main Street, poking in a couple of antique stores -- we found a cool replica of a Chinese ship, with wooden sails. We also found a 1906 edition of a card game called Gavitt's Stock Exchange. This is a trading game in which a deck is distributed to all players, and it contains several rail lines, each with 8 cards of stock. You're trading with the other players all at the same time, trying to get a complete set, then call "Topeka", and win the game. The game was originally produced in 1903, so I was sorely tempted to pick it up -- maybe next time I'm through. Did I mention I was a game nut? Go see my other writings at A Gamer's Eye for more on that subject.
We also stopped in a soda shop, which, while artificial nostalgia, still served a good malt -- Brandy had cherry and I went with chocolate. After walking around for a bit more, admiring the scenery, we decided we'd stopped enough -- it was time to go camping!
We made our way to Daingerfield, and got a brush to finally sweep the sand out of the tent when I pitched it, as well as a couple of sodas. We wouldn't be able to cook at the campsite, as there was a burn ban -- no fires at all, but that was okay...we'd just get dinner somewhere. The sky was looking very threatening, and we felt a few drops of rain, and decided we'd dawdled more than enough....
to be continued
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Goat BBQ
Another horrible week at work... Yes, I love my job, I love my technicians, but the stress can get to you. Responsibilities pile up, requests for help from all corners, and a body can be overwhelmed. The soul can be lost in the depth of household chores, projects, friends, family.
I had to fly. I had to be free.
A few weeks back, I'd seen a banner in a little bitty town out in west Texas for World Championship Goat BBQ Cookoff. .. oh that's just too much, I've GOT to see that. Friday night was spent with a map, plotting the most twisty, windy, back country way to get to Brady, Tx. Hit a few ghost towns, a stop by Longhorn Caverns cause I've never been, and see what all can be seen. Small town Texas is truly beautiful in late summer, and I wanted to see.
Saturday morning... 0600..
Still dark, but its that early morning silence... beautiful and serene. The stars are still out but they are starting to fade. Moisture in the early morning breeze. The smell of the earth, and heading south. First stop on the mind is breakfast at a lovely little place called Buffalo Jones. A fellow wanderer, who has this little hometown shop / cafe out in the middle of nowhere. (for those who are interested, they're a bit east on 875 off 157 south of Venus) .... but nutbunnies! They're not open til 1000 on saturday mornings! Well, I'm not waiting that long, so there will certainly be something else out there that serves breakfast. Cows - cows in ponds - which has been dubbed Mooquatic feef... or is that bish... never quite certain. Passing by old homesteads, little sleepy towns that the only traffic is the cop or the farmer heading to feed his cows. I love the history that exudes from the land here. Looking at 100 year old homes, and barns almost hidden in a grove of trees.. you know that was built with love. Things that were built by the hands of the folks who lived there. You can almost hear the music of the fiddle, almost hear the laughter, and be reminded even by the tumbledown shack on the side of the road that life was not easy, but "We will survive!" is written all over the land.
Around Peoria ... or 1000 it stops being "food would be nice" and turns into "Need food!" and start looking. I don't want some chain I can get at home, but I want local flavor. Preferably something with a mountain of eggs, bacon, taters, grits, homemade biscuits, and about a gallon of tea.... okay, maybe not THAT much, but that's what I think I want! So, after much fruitless searching, pull into a gas station and ask the locals. No luck. I think it was Whitney that a bakery slid into view and while bacon and eggs were nowhere to be had, some wonderful homemade kolaches with sausage and cheese and jalapenos did look to do the trick... but so very close to Lake Whitney... why not have breakfast on the shore? So the kolaches were stowed, and it was off to the lake. However, not exactly directly.... as on the way, a handpainted particle board sign, propped up on the side of the road was seen. "Tamales ahead" was what it proclaimed. Ooooh Tamales! I love tamales! So watching commences for the shop with the tamales. Drive about a mile, and no shops are seen. The only thing that we see is a truck on the side of the road, pulled into the gate for a cattle pasture, then we see an identical sign on the opposite side of the road proclaiming "Tamales ahead" .... you have GOT to be kidding me.... turn around.... go back to the truck. Nope, no kiddin goin on here! There's grandma with her granddaughter - the only one who speaks english - selling tamales out of a cooler on the back up a pickup on the side of the road. Well, I've got to try.... and if it kills me... well, folks have died in much stupider ways! .... and off to the lake with kolaches and tamales in hand!
Getting in the car, something is seen in the rear view mirror that sets the tone for the day.... a big red barn... hurling down the highway towards my car. No need to panic though, its on a trailer. While I'm used to passing them fairly regularly on my trips, I'm not used to seeing them pass me!
Lakeward Ho! Passing by some very fitting pirate flags, which get even more piratical comments of smuggling our booty back to the galley... And then to the Lake Whitney State Park. Time passes, many good munchies are had, get a rather amusing comment from the park ranger when we're asked "How many?" "2" "How long?" "Oh, about 30 min or so. Just having a picnic" ".... Oh... you're one of THOSE" ......One of those What? ... editing the rant for brevity's sake and cause I haven't had enough caffiene yet this morning.. just.. geez lady.
Not much happened between the lake and Burnett, but there are some truly glorious back country twisties out there. Up the mountain! Down the mountain! Through the mountain! And all squiggly around the mountain! Just watch out for the errant tractor imposing a speed limit of 15mph! I've seen less steep roller coaster rides. Park road 4, just south of Burnett off 281 had some great up and down bits, just had to pass the lady insisting on doing 30 mph. *smiles* I wasn't ... unsafe, I know what my Sylvia can take and what she can't. A detour had to be made to visit the ghost town of Norse, where 182 ends. Not a whole lot there, but we did see a road runner though. No coyotes... we figure they're off thinking up Super Geeenius plans.
Longhorn caverns is fun, worth the trip just for the kid in front of us, hollering up the stairs, "Ne Ne! They don't just have a cave here, they have bats too!!!!" I was actually grateful for being as short as I am at a few points, and especially through Lumbago alley. The envious looks I got from you tall folks, as the rest of the group was hunched over, getting cramps here and there, and I only had to briefly duck once for a single little low piece of rock.
Coming out of the cave, we just reveled in the daylight... in the sound of the birds and the wind and sat back to reflect a bit.... and rest from the thousand and one steps coming up from that cave! Texas really is steeped in history.. the indians and the knight on the shining white charger resuing the princess... well... Belle of San Antonio from the evil fiends, moonshine and prohibition, outlaws, bandits, lawmen, and sometimes folks who were both! But the road is calling, and with our battle cry of "Goatward Ho!" we are off again.
I must say, I love hill country. Granite everywhere around Lake Buchanan. Game trails leading off the road to hidden paths. I grew up hiking game trails and they call to me the same as the highway... sometimes more. You find even more hidden treasures, more remote and isolated places.. places you may even be able to believe that folks haven't touched in a hundred years or more. Twisty windy hill country roads.. Dublin Dr Pepper beef jerky for my favourite Dr Pepper fiend, and some bloke turned his sprinklers way up too high, as there was wet stuff falling on my windshield!
Pulling into Brady and I do believe this little town needs a seperate trip just to go through it. The Texan sense of humor was readily apparent as the whole town was into the swing of the goat bbq. Signs along the side of the road saying "Let it rain! We can cook goat any time!" and "Here goatie goatie goatie!!" Following the little paper signs through town, around the courthouse (god I love the courthouses here!) the old jail (looked like a castle!) and the town square, we come to the park where the festival / cook off is being held. Imagine, if you will, the perfect image of a bbq in the back yard.. folks of all ages, sitting around the smoker. Texans of all shades, from the lively tejano music and incredible smells coming from one camp, to the at LEAST 6'6", minimum 350 lbs, red headed dude in leathers that would have looked just as at home in a kilt with a claymore strapped to his back! The only raised voices were in laughter and song. The smell of the wood smoke, and rain on the air, the live oaks overhead, and it echoed of family.
We wander through the festival,following our noses to this scent or that one, watching the people, and just breathing in the sights... when it becomes apparent.. there are no selling booths! Um. Okay. So, exactly how are we supposed to take in some of this goaty goodness? Well, after a false start, I decide to rely on Texan (not southern) hospitality and wander up and ask somebody! I look over the crowd, and pick one rather... large fellow and wander up and go "Heya hon, I'm so sorry to pester ya, but I'm curious. You see, we saw the banner out on the highway and....." and the conversation was off and running! The goat was amazing. Both the stuff marinated in italian dressing, and the real smoked bbq that was very lightly seasoned and let the flavor of the meat come through. Fairly tender, very juicy, but not so much! The judging was apparently at 1000, but we didn't get there til 630 at night! After making friends with a few folks there, we became aware of the fact that the goat was long gone, and if we really wanted to get a belly full, we'd have to go elsewhere.. so off we went. Questing for more goat!
Driving through town, we happened to notice that most bbq places were closed. Guess they were all at the festival... but there was one left. Wander on in, and there's no goat on the menu, and the waitress mumbles "Oh, we're out of brisket and chicken" "Well hon, I've seen signs all over town about goat, what about that?" ... you could almost hear the perk. She started chattering about it, and oh yes, we have lots of that! And its so popular right now! You'll love it. Alas, no sweet tea (sacrelidge!) but, the tea was good, the bbq plentiful, the sauce sweet, and conversation flowing. Oh. My. God. The goat.... now I want to try to make it myself! Needless to say, we requested two wheelbarrows for the trip back to the car. One for the leftovers, one for us! Our need for goat satiated, the sun was long gone, and it was time to go home.
Curling into bed, late at night, whispers in the dark...
..... I'm not done yet... lets go again tomorrow.
I had to fly. I had to be free.
A few weeks back, I'd seen a banner in a little bitty town out in west Texas for World Championship Goat BBQ Cookoff. .. oh that's just too much, I've GOT to see that. Friday night was spent with a map, plotting the most twisty, windy, back country way to get to Brady, Tx. Hit a few ghost towns, a stop by Longhorn Caverns cause I've never been, and see what all can be seen. Small town Texas is truly beautiful in late summer, and I wanted to see.
Saturday morning... 0600..
Still dark, but its that early morning silence... beautiful and serene. The stars are still out but they are starting to fade. Moisture in the early morning breeze. The smell of the earth, and heading south. First stop on the mind is breakfast at a lovely little place called Buffalo Jones. A fellow wanderer, who has this little hometown shop / cafe out in the middle of nowhere. (for those who are interested, they're a bit east on 875 off 157 south of Venus) .... but nutbunnies! They're not open til 1000 on saturday mornings! Well, I'm not waiting that long, so there will certainly be something else out there that serves breakfast. Cows - cows in ponds - which has been dubbed Mooquatic feef... or is that bish... never quite certain. Passing by old homesteads, little sleepy towns that the only traffic is the cop or the farmer heading to feed his cows. I love the history that exudes from the land here. Looking at 100 year old homes, and barns almost hidden in a grove of trees.. you know that was built with love. Things that were built by the hands of the folks who lived there. You can almost hear the music of the fiddle, almost hear the laughter, and be reminded even by the tumbledown shack on the side of the road that life was not easy, but "We will survive!" is written all over the land.
Around Peoria ... or 1000 it stops being "food would be nice" and turns into "Need food!" and start looking. I don't want some chain I can get at home, but I want local flavor. Preferably something with a mountain of eggs, bacon, taters, grits, homemade biscuits, and about a gallon of tea.... okay, maybe not THAT much, but that's what I think I want! So, after much fruitless searching, pull into a gas station and ask the locals. No luck. I think it was Whitney that a bakery slid into view and while bacon and eggs were nowhere to be had, some wonderful homemade kolaches with sausage and cheese and jalapenos did look to do the trick... but so very close to Lake Whitney... why not have breakfast on the shore? So the kolaches were stowed, and it was off to the lake. However, not exactly directly.... as on the way, a handpainted particle board sign, propped up on the side of the road was seen. "Tamales ahead" was what it proclaimed. Ooooh Tamales! I love tamales! So watching commences for the shop with the tamales. Drive about a mile, and no shops are seen. The only thing that we see is a truck on the side of the road, pulled into the gate for a cattle pasture, then we see an identical sign on the opposite side of the road proclaiming "Tamales ahead" .... you have GOT to be kidding me.... turn around.... go back to the truck. Nope, no kiddin goin on here! There's grandma with her granddaughter - the only one who speaks english - selling tamales out of a cooler on the back up a pickup on the side of the road. Well, I've got to try.... and if it kills me... well, folks have died in much stupider ways! .... and off to the lake with kolaches and tamales in hand!
Getting in the car, something is seen in the rear view mirror that sets the tone for the day.... a big red barn... hurling down the highway towards my car. No need to panic though, its on a trailer. While I'm used to passing them fairly regularly on my trips, I'm not used to seeing them pass me!
Lakeward Ho! Passing by some very fitting pirate flags, which get even more piratical comments of smuggling our booty back to the galley... And then to the Lake Whitney State Park. Time passes, many good munchies are had, get a rather amusing comment from the park ranger when we're asked "How many?" "2" "How long?" "Oh, about 30 min or so. Just having a picnic" ".... Oh... you're one of THOSE" ......One of those What? ... editing the rant for brevity's sake and cause I haven't had enough caffiene yet this morning.. just.. geez lady.
Not much happened between the lake and Burnett, but there are some truly glorious back country twisties out there. Up the mountain! Down the mountain! Through the mountain! And all squiggly around the mountain! Just watch out for the errant tractor imposing a speed limit of 15mph! I've seen less steep roller coaster rides. Park road 4, just south of Burnett off 281 had some great up and down bits, just had to pass the lady insisting on doing 30 mph. *smiles* I wasn't ... unsafe, I know what my Sylvia can take and what she can't. A detour had to be made to visit the ghost town of Norse, where 182 ends. Not a whole lot there, but we did see a road runner though. No coyotes... we figure they're off thinking up Super Geeenius plans.
Longhorn caverns is fun, worth the trip just for the kid in front of us, hollering up the stairs, "Ne Ne! They don't just have a cave here, they have bats too!!!!" I was actually grateful for being as short as I am at a few points, and especially through Lumbago alley. The envious looks I got from you tall folks, as the rest of the group was hunched over, getting cramps here and there, and I only had to briefly duck once for a single little low piece of rock.Coming out of the cave, we just reveled in the daylight... in the sound of the birds and the wind and sat back to reflect a bit.... and rest from the thousand and one steps coming up from that cave! Texas really is steeped in history.. the indians and the knight on the shining white charger resuing the princess... well... Belle of San Antonio from the evil fiends, moonshine and prohibition, outlaws, bandits, lawmen, and sometimes folks who were both! But the road is calling, and with our battle cry of "Goatward Ho!" we are off again.
I must say, I love hill country. Granite everywhere around Lake Buchanan. Game trails leading off the road to hidden paths. I grew up hiking game trails and they call to me the same as the highway... sometimes more. You find even more hidden treasures, more remote and isolated places.. places you may even be able to believe that folks haven't touched in a hundred years or more. Twisty windy hill country roads.. Dublin Dr Pepper beef jerky for my favourite Dr Pepper fiend, and some bloke turned his sprinklers way up too high, as there was wet stuff falling on my windshield!
Pulling into Brady and I do believe this little town needs a seperate trip just to go through it. The Texan sense of humor was readily apparent as the whole town was into the swing of the goat bbq. Signs along the side of the road saying "Let it rain! We can cook goat any time!" and "Here goatie goatie goatie!!" Following the little paper signs through town, around the courthouse (god I love the courthouses here!) the old jail (looked like a castle!) and the town square, we come to the park where the festival / cook off is being held. Imagine, if you will, the perfect image of a bbq in the back yard.. folks of all ages, sitting around the smoker. Texans of all shades, from the lively tejano music and incredible smells coming from one camp, to the at LEAST 6'6", minimum 350 lbs, red headed dude in leathers that would have looked just as at home in a kilt with a claymore strapped to his back! The only raised voices were in laughter and song. The smell of the wood smoke, and rain on the air, the live oaks overhead, and it echoed of family.
We wander through the festival,following our noses to this scent or that one, watching the people, and just breathing in the sights... when it becomes apparent.. there are no selling booths! Um. Okay. So, exactly how are we supposed to take in some of this goaty goodness? Well, after a false start, I decide to rely on Texan (not southern) hospitality and wander up and ask somebody! I look over the crowd, and pick one rather... large fellow and wander up and go "Heya hon, I'm so sorry to pester ya, but I'm curious. You see, we saw the banner out on the highway and....." and the conversation was off and running! The goat was amazing. Both the stuff marinated in italian dressing, and the real smoked bbq that was very lightly seasoned and let the flavor of the meat come through. Fairly tender, very juicy, but not so much! The judging was apparently at 1000, but we didn't get there til 630 at night! After making friends with a few folks there, we became aware of the fact that the goat was long gone, and if we really wanted to get a belly full, we'd have to go elsewhere.. so off we went. Questing for more goat!
Driving through town, we happened to notice that most bbq places were closed. Guess they were all at the festival... but there was one left. Wander on in, and there's no goat on the menu, and the waitress mumbles "Oh, we're out of brisket and chicken" "Well hon, I've seen signs all over town about goat, what about that?" ... you could almost hear the perk. She started chattering about it, and oh yes, we have lots of that! And its so popular right now! You'll love it. Alas, no sweet tea (sacrelidge!) but, the tea was good, the bbq plentiful, the sauce sweet, and conversation flowing. Oh. My. God. The goat.... now I want to try to make it myself! Needless to say, we requested two wheelbarrows for the trip back to the car. One for the leftovers, one for us! Our need for goat satiated, the sun was long gone, and it was time to go home.
Curling into bed, late at night, whispers in the dark...
..... I'm not done yet... lets go again tomorrow.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Run! For Rest, Run! (Part 2)
I'm not sure what time it was when we pulled into Lufkin...I do remember the sun was soon to be going down, but I forget what time of year it was, other than that it was warm, which doesn't tell you much in Texas, so I can't nail it down to a clock time. I'm also writing about this trip months later, so please allow me a little leeway on the details when the chronology doesn't seem to make sense.
The reason for that babbling will become apparent shortly.
On the way into town, our first priority was to secure some lodging for the night. After vetoing several tiny, rundown motels ("That's a little too much local color," the girls chorused), and finding that one hotel only had a room with two double beds, we eventually ended up at a Best Western, and while in the lobby, I picked up a brochure about a nearby canoing place. That sounded like a lot of fun, and we resolved to look it up later as the next day's activity. After checking in, we proceeded to unload the car and then head out to find something to eat.
This proved to be much more difficult than we thought. See, we didn't want to eat at a chain restaurant, and every road we started down seemed to wind up in residential areas, or was hotel and franchise central. Eventually, we spied -- ah-hah! A local-looking barbecue place! I love barbecue...... Okay, pulling into the parking lot, about to get out of the car.....and someone inside flipped the open sign to "closed." Rats.
So we continue driving around town, eventually settling on a steak and seafood place....I inhaled a very large plate full of cajun-grilled shrimp...mmmm.....shrimp..... The three of us also flirted quite heavily with our waitress -- her chest was truly impressive and commanded our attention -- it took real effort to look up at her while we placed our orders. We mentioned that we were out wandering and didn't really have any particular plans for the weekend, but that we were just exploring the state and seeing where we ended up. She wistfully remarked on how fun that must be and how she'd like to go see her sister in Galveston one of these days. We replied asking when she got off work...we'd be happy to continue our little adventure and move it down to Galveston (and maybe take this lovely lady to the beach)...after all, we were in exactly the right frame of mind to just take off without a care in the world. Unfortunately, she opted not to go...I still wonder if we should have invited her back to the hotel room if she didn't want to actually go out of town....course, none of us are quite that bold.
Off to Wal-Mart, where we picked up a Texas Gazetteer, so that we could really explore the obscure back roads. Finally back to the hotel, where we worked off some of that energy we developed at dinner.
Next morning, and we're off to find the Big Slough Wilderness Resort and go canoing! We packed back up, checked out of the hotel, and got on the road, hoping to find some local small restaurant for breakfast along the way. As we circled through town, we marvelled that nobody seemed to be open at 8am or so on a Sunday morning...go figure. Oh well...according to the Gazetteer, we should pass two more towns on the way to our destination. So we chattered away as we entered the Davy Crockett National Forest on a delightfully rainy, misty morning....
Shortly before our next turnoff toward the canoing place, we stopped for gas -- I love these small gas stations in the middle of nowhere with the old-fashioned pumps that uses dials instead of LEDs, and may or may not be accurate in determining the price...they're just neat -- and asked for directions -- yeah, I know, but we're talking FOOD here! -- for a place to get some breakfast. He told us about a cafe just up the road, in a place apparently big enough to have a spot on the map, but once there, it didn't look like they had a population much larger than a couple dozen. The cafe was attached to a gas station, our waitress was also the clerk, and her three brothers were in there having breakfast when we arrived. Alas, she must have been having a bad morning, as our waitress was a bit surly as we decided what we wanted. The coffee was only so-so, but the pancakes were excellent, and served with butter that seemed fresh enough, it may have been churned that morning...the bathroom was also surprisingly nice -- it was on the outside wall of the store, but the walls were made of wood and it was very clean -- the whole room made me think that it should have been part of a log cabin at a fancy place trying to look rustic.
Anyway, eventually, we made our way back to the turn, and took it. Here's where we ran into a tiny problem.....these dirt roads weren't labeled...or at least, they weren't labeled the same as the map. We turned up several dirt roads based on counting the thin, barely drawn lines on the gazetteer map, and every single one of them turned out to be a private driveway, so we had to turn around and make our way back again. Man, this was disappointing...but we weren't giving up! We were going canoing, dammit! Continue down the road a bit -- ah-hah! A sign for the Big Slough Wilderness Resort, and what appeared to be a well-travelled (and wide!) dirt track. We make our turn, and the whole car starts vibrating -- we're laughing, enjoying it, and the girls start in on some naughty humor...oh, who am I kidding...I probably started it :) We're certain we're going the right way, and though the dirt is really more of a mud track (with some nasty looking sludge on either side of the road), we kept steering to the solid-looking portions and were basically doing okay.
And then the road forked.
Three ways.
Only one of them even had a road sign marking it. None of them had any indication that they had anything to do with the Big Slough Wilderness Resort. Oh well...we picked straight ahead...and shortly got to cross over a bridge which consisted of little more than two boards spaced approximately car-width apart over a gully. Looked tricky, but we got across easily...and then saw a sign for Big Slough, pointing in the same direction we were pointing! Hurray! We're still going the right way! And it's only a mile more! We continue slugging along at a sensible 20mph, which was really ticking off the old guy in the land yacht behind us. Oh well....a little poetic justice for when they hold us up on the roads we drive fast on :)
Then the road forked again.
Looked like four ways this time.
Trusting in those Mexican tracking instincts honed from generations of hunting the elusive chupacabra, I determined the most well-travelled road of the options available, and went that way.
Okay, so maybe those tracking instincts need a little more honing.
20 minutes or so later, we're deep in the forest, pine trees towering all around us, and the road has gotten smaller...wolves are howling, storm clouds are gathering, and there are gremlins removing the lug nuts from our tires.
Well, okay, maybe not all that...but we were deep in the forest on a smaller road. Angela's starting to get worried -- Brandy and I are irritated that we probably won't get to go canoing and are trying to figure out if this mud trail eventually leads to another road so that I don't have to figure out how to turn the car around on a road which isn't as wide as the car is long....or really have to freak anyone out by reversing all the way back to an intersection to do the turning. As it turned out, there was a little state highway on the map, and supposedly this farm to market road intersects with it eventually. Assuming that I was on the right branch of it, of course.
More tension in the car as the minutes drag on, and the road gets a little smaller....and then seems to run out of the dirt covering....we're now driving on bare rock. I've got my fingers crossed that this track won't turn into a game trail before we actually get to the highway.
Time passes.....
......
.....and we're out! Oh well, no canoing for us today -- time to plot a course home. As we say our farewells to the trail of adventure, we see a billboard, advertising -- you guessed it -- the Big Slough Wilderness Resort. Who knows? Maybe that whole drive was the resort....we certainly saw enough wilderness!
Back on the road, and as it turned out, we were on the Texas Forest trail. Who knew? We follow it for a while, taking note of Mission Tejas State Park as something to come back to someday, working our way up through Palestine and then further north toward Athens, stopping at every roadside vegetable stand that happened to catch our eye. In Athens, we turned again, this time back on highway 175...along the way, we stopped at a couple antique stores, as well as one more roadside fruit and vegetable store. This wasn't just a stand...it was in a building, and could at least claim the title of shop. While there, we got more fresh blackberries and some Black Walnut syrup....mmmmm......
The trip was coming to an end as we passed Kaufman again, where we saw cows standing deep in a lake....we dubbed them mooquatic cows...and the meat is feef....or maybe bish...
All in all, we had a lot of fun for our first major road trip, and a hunger had been re-awakened within us. As children, we had each been explorers, wandering where we could and seeing what there was to see. As adults, this desire had been suppressed as we took on adult responsibilities. Until we met, we hadn't travelled enough. We hadn't taken the back way and seen. We just took the major highway, got to our destination, did what we were there to do, and then went home.
That would soon change. Now that we knew each other's gypsy nature, now that we had rediscovered that spark within us, we vowed to nurture the flame, to experience more, and to learn what there is to see in the small towns of Texas.
There would be many more trips...and soon....
The reason for that babbling will become apparent shortly.
On the way into town, our first priority was to secure some lodging for the night. After vetoing several tiny, rundown motels ("That's a little too much local color," the girls chorused), and finding that one hotel only had a room with two double beds, we eventually ended up at a Best Western, and while in the lobby, I picked up a brochure about a nearby canoing place. That sounded like a lot of fun, and we resolved to look it up later as the next day's activity. After checking in, we proceeded to unload the car and then head out to find something to eat.
This proved to be much more difficult than we thought. See, we didn't want to eat at a chain restaurant, and every road we started down seemed to wind up in residential areas, or was hotel and franchise central. Eventually, we spied -- ah-hah! A local-looking barbecue place! I love barbecue...... Okay, pulling into the parking lot, about to get out of the car.....and someone inside flipped the open sign to "closed." Rats.
So we continue driving around town, eventually settling on a steak and seafood place....I inhaled a very large plate full of cajun-grilled shrimp...mmmm.....shrimp..... The three of us also flirted quite heavily with our waitress -- her chest was truly impressive and commanded our attention -- it took real effort to look up at her while we placed our orders. We mentioned that we were out wandering and didn't really have any particular plans for the weekend, but that we were just exploring the state and seeing where we ended up. She wistfully remarked on how fun that must be and how she'd like to go see her sister in Galveston one of these days. We replied asking when she got off work...we'd be happy to continue our little adventure and move it down to Galveston (and maybe take this lovely lady to the beach)...after all, we were in exactly the right frame of mind to just take off without a care in the world. Unfortunately, she opted not to go...I still wonder if we should have invited her back to the hotel room if she didn't want to actually go out of town....course, none of us are quite that bold.
Off to Wal-Mart, where we picked up a Texas Gazetteer, so that we could really explore the obscure back roads. Finally back to the hotel, where we worked off some of that energy we developed at dinner.
Next morning, and we're off to find the Big Slough Wilderness Resort and go canoing! We packed back up, checked out of the hotel, and got on the road, hoping to find some local small restaurant for breakfast along the way. As we circled through town, we marvelled that nobody seemed to be open at 8am or so on a Sunday morning...go figure. Oh well...according to the Gazetteer, we should pass two more towns on the way to our destination. So we chattered away as we entered the Davy Crockett National Forest on a delightfully rainy, misty morning....
Shortly before our next turnoff toward the canoing place, we stopped for gas -- I love these small gas stations in the middle of nowhere with the old-fashioned pumps that uses dials instead of LEDs, and may or may not be accurate in determining the price...they're just neat -- and asked for directions -- yeah, I know, but we're talking FOOD here! -- for a place to get some breakfast. He told us about a cafe just up the road, in a place apparently big enough to have a spot on the map, but once there, it didn't look like they had a population much larger than a couple dozen. The cafe was attached to a gas station, our waitress was also the clerk, and her three brothers were in there having breakfast when we arrived. Alas, she must have been having a bad morning, as our waitress was a bit surly as we decided what we wanted. The coffee was only so-so, but the pancakes were excellent, and served with butter that seemed fresh enough, it may have been churned that morning...the bathroom was also surprisingly nice -- it was on the outside wall of the store, but the walls were made of wood and it was very clean -- the whole room made me think that it should have been part of a log cabin at a fancy place trying to look rustic.
Anyway, eventually, we made our way back to the turn, and took it. Here's where we ran into a tiny problem.....these dirt roads weren't labeled...or at least, they weren't labeled the same as the map. We turned up several dirt roads based on counting the thin, barely drawn lines on the gazetteer map, and every single one of them turned out to be a private driveway, so we had to turn around and make our way back again. Man, this was disappointing...but we weren't giving up! We were going canoing, dammit! Continue down the road a bit -- ah-hah! A sign for the Big Slough Wilderness Resort, and what appeared to be a well-travelled (and wide!) dirt track. We make our turn, and the whole car starts vibrating -- we're laughing, enjoying it, and the girls start in on some naughty humor...oh, who am I kidding...I probably started it :) We're certain we're going the right way, and though the dirt is really more of a mud track (with some nasty looking sludge on either side of the road), we kept steering to the solid-looking portions and were basically doing okay.
And then the road forked.
Three ways.
Only one of them even had a road sign marking it. None of them had any indication that they had anything to do with the Big Slough Wilderness Resort. Oh well...we picked straight ahead...and shortly got to cross over a bridge which consisted of little more than two boards spaced approximately car-width apart over a gully. Looked tricky, but we got across easily...and then saw a sign for Big Slough, pointing in the same direction we were pointing! Hurray! We're still going the right way! And it's only a mile more! We continue slugging along at a sensible 20mph, which was really ticking off the old guy in the land yacht behind us. Oh well....a little poetic justice for when they hold us up on the roads we drive fast on :)
Then the road forked again.
Looked like four ways this time.
Trusting in those Mexican tracking instincts honed from generations of hunting the elusive chupacabra, I determined the most well-travelled road of the options available, and went that way.
Okay, so maybe those tracking instincts need a little more honing.
20 minutes or so later, we're deep in the forest, pine trees towering all around us, and the road has gotten smaller...wolves are howling, storm clouds are gathering, and there are gremlins removing the lug nuts from our tires.
Well, okay, maybe not all that...but we were deep in the forest on a smaller road. Angela's starting to get worried -- Brandy and I are irritated that we probably won't get to go canoing and are trying to figure out if this mud trail eventually leads to another road so that I don't have to figure out how to turn the car around on a road which isn't as wide as the car is long....or really have to freak anyone out by reversing all the way back to an intersection to do the turning. As it turned out, there was a little state highway on the map, and supposedly this farm to market road intersects with it eventually. Assuming that I was on the right branch of it, of course.
More tension in the car as the minutes drag on, and the road gets a little smaller....and then seems to run out of the dirt covering....we're now driving on bare rock. I've got my fingers crossed that this track won't turn into a game trail before we actually get to the highway.
Time passes.....
......
.....and we're out! Oh well, no canoing for us today -- time to plot a course home. As we say our farewells to the trail of adventure, we see a billboard, advertising -- you guessed it -- the Big Slough Wilderness Resort. Who knows? Maybe that whole drive was the resort....we certainly saw enough wilderness!
Back on the road, and as it turned out, we were on the Texas Forest trail. Who knew? We follow it for a while, taking note of Mission Tejas State Park as something to come back to someday, working our way up through Palestine and then further north toward Athens, stopping at every roadside vegetable stand that happened to catch our eye. In Athens, we turned again, this time back on highway 175...along the way, we stopped at a couple antique stores, as well as one more roadside fruit and vegetable store. This wasn't just a stand...it was in a building, and could at least claim the title of shop. While there, we got more fresh blackberries and some Black Walnut syrup....mmmmm......
The trip was coming to an end as we passed Kaufman again, where we saw cows standing deep in a lake....we dubbed them mooquatic cows...and the meat is feef....or maybe bish...
All in all, we had a lot of fun for our first major road trip, and a hunger had been re-awakened within us. As children, we had each been explorers, wandering where we could and seeing what there was to see. As adults, this desire had been suppressed as we took on adult responsibilities. Until we met, we hadn't travelled enough. We hadn't taken the back way and seen. We just took the major highway, got to our destination, did what we were there to do, and then went home.
That would soon change. Now that we knew each other's gypsy nature, now that we had rediscovered that spark within us, we vowed to nurture the flame, to experience more, and to learn what there is to see in the small towns of Texas.
There would be many more trips...and soon....
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Run! For Rest, Run!
It was to be our first real trip together. Sure, we'd been back and forth to Palestine (and missed the train all three times), but that had been an errand, an adventure, but one with an actual destination.
This time....this time would be our first escape....
It was shortly after the epiphany in Ennis that we all shared a love of adventuring and exploring the world, and we had chosen this weekend to give in to that urge.
Where were we going? No idea...
Where would we sleep? We'd find out when we stopped...
What would we do? We'd discover that along the way...
We loaded up the car with a change of clothes, some towels (in case we found somewhere we wanted to swim), and a bag with a few games. We quested around the house for the State Park Pass in the hopes that it would finally get some use, but alas, it was too soon after the move, and we failed to locate it...so we'd have to pay like normal people if we stopped at any state parks. With that decision, we were off!
Headed down 287 toward Waxahachie, we still had no ideas on which way we wanted to go or what we wanted to do, but it didn't matter...we knew that sooner or later, something interesting would present itself and we'd go to investigate. A random turn down a farm road in Ovilla took us past some stately ranch houses and a nice little pass through some trees overhanging the road, but so far our thirst for adventure was barely being dripped upon. As we looped around and ended up back on 287, we saw a sign proclaiming "Trade Days," with an arrow. Well, what were "Trade Days?" We followed the arrow to find out, but aside from that one sign, there were no further directions. Apparently, we were not worthy of "Trade Days," as it refused to be found. This did lead to a suggestion, though....
"Hey, what about that First Monday thing in Canton?" exclaimed Brandy. "I think this coming Monday should be the first one, so it would be going on this weekend, right?"
Worked for me.....with a possible destination in mind, we headed in the vague direction of Canton, first stopping in Ennis, where Brandy knew of a little bakery that served excellent kolaches. Jammed right next to a gas station, it's not easy to spot, but the food was worth it. They even had sugar-free stuff, so Angela got to enjoy some too. With pastries in hand, our next leg took us up highway 34 toward Kaufman, and then along 243 into Canton. Along the way, we saw lots of plains and not much else, although a billboard did catch our eye -- it was solid black, and in white lettering, proclaimed "Coming Soon," with two arrows pointing down near each corner. As we got closer, we could just barely make out in parentheses, "(mature audiences only)".
"I'll bet they are," was the cheerful retort.
As we entered Canton, we found that much like "Trade Days," it seemed to be assumed that you had some rough idea where in town the First Monday event happened. We drove around town aimlessly for a while, until we eventually spotted a sign for "First Monday Parking." So we parked. Beyond that, there was no indication of which way First Monday was.
That was okay....we were curious about the store with piles of colorful dishes out front. It turned out to be a Fiesta store. We spent the next hour exploring every inch of the store, marvelling at the wide variety of different types of plates, bowls, glasses, and even silverware. Saw some cool pottery, like a popcorn bowl that said "Popcorn is for sharing," and then at the bottom of the bowl, "That's all folks!" Of course, we hadn't been paying attention to when they were planning to close, and so were sheepish when they discreetly hinted that if we weren't going to buy something, they would like to go home soon. Sorry :)
Since it didn't look like we were going to find First Monday this time, we decided to head east out of Canton along 64 to Tyler, and go see the roses at a nursery Brandy shopped at, possibly pick out some new items for her rose garden. Started on our way, and lo and behold! First Monday grounds! Unfortunately, we were wrong, and it wasn't going on this weekend. Oh well....on to Tyler!
Ooooh....roadside fruit & vegetable stand....picked up some delicious strawberries.....started inhaling them as we went on to Tyler.
Rats....the rose place was closed....hm, what to do next then....well, we're on highway 69...let's go south! *thinks naughty thoughts and smirks* Goofy things seen on the way through town? An auto store selling "Snake Oil"...and on a whim we tried to find a game store, but discovered instead a model airplane store. Onward down 69, into the forests that east Texas is known for. We drove through rolling hills, with trees on either side as far as the eye could see. Stopped at another couple of roadside stands, but nothing really grabbed us, so no purchases.
Shortly after Rusk, we slowed down as we spied a man that appeared to be having trouble with his horse. He was standing in the middle of the road holding the reins of the jumpy animal and frantically waving a crude flag. As we stopped, he finally got the horse under control and got into the right lane. I start to give the car some gas again and he stepped back in front of us -- "I told you to stop!" he spat. Now, we had no idea what was going on, but we were about to just say the hell with it and pass this rude ass with the skittish horse, when the parade started.
An army of people on horses, bicycles, scooters, 4-wheelers, trucks, cars, and motorcycles all chose that moment to cross the road. Why the guy with the horse didn't let us pass before they started, I'll never know, but we were stuck there for some 15 minutes while they all made their way across and down the road a bit before crossing the other side. Finally, the first idiot made three attempts to mount his horse as it was trying to walk away, and eventually, he got out of our way, and we continued on, joking about the parade the whole way.
We debated going to check out the Big Thicket National Preserve, but decided it would wait till the next day, as it was beginning to get late, and we were about ready to find a place to stop for the evening and relax outside the car for a bit...maybe even get some dinner. Our stop for that day?
Lufkin, TX....
more next entry -- the evening, and the next day...
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
An Introduction
"The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality, and, instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are."
-- Samuel Johnson, Piozzi's Johnsoniana
Growing up, I always seemed to be out of the house, wandering the local storm drains, bicycling along back roads, and generally seeing where I could end up when I started down whatever path caught my eye. In time, my adventuring slowed as I dealt with the responsibilities of being a grown-up, but they never fully abated.
After I was married, I found that my wife Angela shared my love of wandering, and though we rarely went far, we sometimes took the road less travelled to get to a destination, and we adored exploring the countryside just outside the city we lived in.
And then we met Brandy.
Brandy is the other love in our life, and that will be the extent of my revelations about my personal life, as this is not to be a diary blog.
Rather, this is a blog of experiences, a description of places we have been and things that we have seen. For you see, Brandy also styles herself a gypsy, often taken with wanderlust, and the temptation to just go...
I still remember how it shocked her the first time this mood struck her while she was out with Angela and I. We had just been at the drive-in theater in Ennis, and we were on our way back to take 287 home. She was saying that it would be nice to just keep going...maybe Houston, cause she'd never been. The only question I asked was if we had enough money for gas, food and a hotel. Once I received an answer in the affirmative, I said "Okay."
Even at that, the car erupted into chaos as they both realized I had passed the exit for 287. They didn't so much protest and express surprise that I would actually go through with it. Angela had half-expected it, but Brandy didn't know about that side of me before. Needless to say, she was quite pleased, although we ended up being adults and not, in fact, going to Houston.
Although I think we went the next week...I dunno, my chronology isn't so good.
Regardless, since then, we've made road trips a regular activity -- we may not be able to go as much as we'd like due to scheduling and gas prices. And every trip, whether we actually do anything or not, we always have a terrific time in the car, just exploring this great state of ours.
What do I intend to write? Obviously, tales of our travels, although I think I'd also like to share some of the hiking adventures of my well-spent youth (any time spent getting out there and seeing what life has to offer you can't be considered misspent).
So, care to go for a drive?
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