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.
Friday, September 29, 2006
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....
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)