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.
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