Texas – Riveted

Quick Trip to Texas

Laura Domela — Mon, 15 Dec 2014 14:53:05 +0000

We've been in San Antonio for a couple days visiting Kevin's mom. It's been a great trip so far. Lots of visiting, lots of exploring, and lots of eating. We had breakfast tacos at Taco Cabana for old times sake (because there's no Tacodeli in San Antonio, only in Austin, and those are the best breakfast tacos in TX). We took Kevin's mom to dinner for her birthday on Saturday night – Restaurant Gwendolyn down on the Riverwalk. It was great! We had the charcuterie board to start (highly recommended) and the 5-course tasting menu and we all really enjoyed the food.

The concept of Restaurant Gwendolyn is extremely old school, using what they had and doing as they did before the break of the industrial revolution: approximately 1850. There are no blenders, mixers, choppers, ice cream machines, deep fryers, or anything else with a motor–nothing with a plug.   "No perishable ingredient may travel further than a good, strong horse.   The menu will move absolutely in lockstep with the seasons, as okra and  eggplant taper off and leafy greens move in, we must change ourselves to  suit the product–not the other way around. What is outside is inside."

Old school tableside coffee at Gwendolyn:

Yesterday we did a little research on "the best tacos in San Antonio" and came up with a place called Guajillo's, so we tried it last night for dinner and yep, exceptionally good tacos. We each ordered a different kind of meat, but the taco plates all come with 6 small (4 inch-ish) corn tortillas flat on a plate covered with meat, and a side plate of cilantro, onions, and with my Al Pastor, some pineapple. You build the tacos from there. We traded tacos, and everyone seemed to think the Al Pastor may have been the winner, but they were all delicious.

After tacos we returned to the Riverwalk for some more walking. The trees are all decorated for the holidays and it's super festive down there right now. We took a river barge tour (always fun) and also walked a good distance along the river as well. Here are some photos from the last two nights on the Riverwalk:

Riverside architecture:

We made a quick stop at The Alamo:

Cool amimation/moving projection on the San Fernando Cathedral (happening simultaneously with a concert in the plaza):

A few random shots around the city:

County Fair, BBQ Cookoff, and Night Fishing

Laura Domela — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 12:41:27 +0000

Yesterday we headed over to the Comal County Fairgrounds to check out the BBQ Cookoff.

There were all kinds of bbq contraptions and probably close to 100 teams competing. It was quite a sight (and smell).

It was close to 2pm and we'd read that they were judging at 10, 12, 2, and 4pm in this order: beans, chicken, ribs, brisket. Lots of people seemed to be flowing in one direction carrying styrofoam boxes, so we followed 'em. They were lining up to turn in their ribs entries.

The receivers open each styrofoam box to check for proper arrangement of ribs (in one case, the receiver opened the entry, shook her head and then put on some gloves to rearrang the meat for better aesthetic appeal…). Helpful!

I peeked into the auditorium where the judging was to take place, and there were a whole bunch of guys in cowboy hats seated at tables with a stack of styrofoam containers on each table. Wonder how you get THAT job!

We left the fairgrounds and headed over to Granzin Bar-B-Q in New Braunfels for some lunch. (Food: better than Rudy's. Atmosphere: Not nearly as cool as Rudy's.)

Shirley stayed for dinner last night and I cooked a light dinner of Chilean Sea Bass in parchment bags with green beans and lemon and herbs with a couple of little neck clams on the side.The evening was gorgeous so we ate outside along the river.

Later last night after Shirley had gone home, we saw a couple boats on the river bow fishing. (Click image to enlarge.) I love how you can see the silhouetted muscovy ducks hanging out on the shore (there's a heron in the second photo, between the two tree trunks). It was a cool, eerie sight seeing these boats go down the river in the darkness.

Exploring the Texas Hill Country

Laura Domela — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 01:11:45 +0000

This morning (okay, well, closer to afternoon) after we got some work done we met up with Shirley & Bob (Kevin's mom and her husband) for some lunch and then headed out to explore a little Texas Hill Country.

We'd read about the Garrison Brothers Distillery in Hye, TX and thought we might stop there and take the tour and taste some bourbon before going into Fredericksburg. The last tour was at 4pm and we pulled in right on time. There were ten or so ladies already there waiting for the tour as well.

They've got a nice little office there with benches and chairs and a tree swing and a cooler with water and beer and wine with a sign to help yourself while you wait. Pretty nice!

After about 20 minutes a guy in a truck drove up and appeared to be looking around for someone. One of the ladies asked him if he knew anything about when the tour might start and he said he didn't know if it was even going to happen because the owner's two dogs had just been killed in a car accident and they were all up at the house right now. He said he was heading up there to check and he left, but after about 10 more minutes we decided we'd move on. The tour probably wouldn't happen, and even if it did, we didn't really want to be part of this other group that felt…well…a little insensitive about what had just happened. They were having fun and mostly seemed a bit annoyed that they couldn't go on the tour. I was bummed we didn't get to go on the tour too, but I felt worse about the owner losing his dogs.

As we pulled out to the main road there was a building on the right with a post office and a liquor store (the town of Hye has a population of about 104). We figured they'd carry the bourbon in that store so I ran in and yep, they did. We bought a bottle to take home and taste, figuring we'd probably like it from what we'd already read about it.

Since we didn't get the tour/tasting experience we were hoping for, we decided to stop and taste some Texas wine at Messina Hof winery. Pretty good, pretty good. I didn't know Texas had wine, but I read somewhere that this area is the second most visited wine region in the country. Hm. I find that hard to believe.

We were kinda quick through Fredericksburg (it was a little late and most places were closed) so we just wandered a bit and enjoyed some of the architecture.

We stopped at the airport — Shirley and Bob wanted to show us the Hangar Hotel. It's a hotel built in what looks like an old hangar but was actually constructed from the ground up to look like a WWII hangar from the 1940's.

They've got a cool diner (it was closed) right there facing the runway. A bit more than a $100 hamburger trip, but could be a fun destination sometime.

Shirley and Bob took us to dinner back in Boerne (pronounced like "Bernie") at Rudy's Country Store and Bar-B-Q. Love the vibe of this place. You get in line and order from the counter…first your sides (we got creamed corn, cole slaw, and beans) and the move forward to the meats section of the counter (brisket, baby back ribs, and sausage). They put it all in a big tray, give you four sheets of waxed white butcher paper (takes the place of plates), and off you go to big picnic tables outside. It was fun and the food was good.

Rudy's when we went in:

Rudy's when we left:

Weather was beautiful all day. Now we're back at the Airstream sipping a little glass of the new bourbon (well, a big glass but just a little bit of bourbon in the bottom of it). It's good. Different. It smells like it's going to be strong and burn a little, but it's actually quite smooth and kind of evaporates in your mouth before there's much to swallow. Good stuff.

40 Year Time Capsule

Laura Domela — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 13:23:57 +0000

(Posted by Kevin)

I “grew up” in a town called Denver City, Texas. You’ve never
been there. Denver City is not on the way from anywhere to anywhere, and it is
most certainly not a destination. If you think you “may have gone through there
on a trip once,” you’re wrong. You’d only end up there if you were headed there
in the first place, and you never would be. It’s not that kind of place.

Denver City is a small town – about 4,000
people. It provides the basic facilities needed to survive – schools, a few
restaurants, a couple of markets, gas stations, hardware stores, auto repair…
But, you’ll find none of the next-level amenities – hobby stores, movie
complexes, chain restaurants – those are all relegated to the “big city” – the
nearest of which is probably Lubbock, Texas, a 90-minute drive from Denver
City. They might as well be on Mars.

Life in Denver City is hard. The town exists
because of oil and agriculture. It sits on top of the Wasson Pool which, at the
time I lived there, was the second-largest known pool of oil in the world. But
West Texas drilling hit a tough time in the forty years since I left, and
apparently is just now experiencing a resurgence. Surrounding the thousands of
pump jacks is desolate, sprawling plains. No hills, streams, lakes, or forests
are anywhere near the place. The view from every edge of town is the same –
miles and miles of dusty scrub brush and mesquite extending off to infinity –
the occasional windmill breaking the line of the perfectly-flat horizon.

The climate is dreadful, with scorching hot
summers and bitter-cold winters. The annual rainfall is somewhere in the range
of ten inches, and as my father used to say “You should be there the day it
falls.” The wind whips across the plains with incredible force, and thunderstorms,
dust storms, and tornadoes are commonplace. My primary childhood fear was being
blown away in a tornado. We regularly experienced tornado alerts and warnings,
and you could frequently see funnel clouds menacingly descending from the
overcast. Several times, tiny neighboring towns were completely obliterated by
tornadoes. We’d drive through in the following weeks and see nothing left in
the rubble taller than 3-4 feet. It had a profound impact on my 6-11 year-old
psyche. (It probably didn’t help that I had also watched “Wizard of Oz” many
times.) As an adult, living far away from tornado alley, I still have
nightmares where I’m trying to escape from killer tornadoes.

Why, you might ask, did my loving and
well-meaning parents move me to such a dismal place for my most formative
years? Money. My parents were public school teachers in Texas. Schools were
funded from property taxes. Denver City was sitting on oil lease land, which
was some of the most spectacularly valuable property on Earth.

The schools were swimming in money, and the only
way to get good, qualified teachers was to pay them significantly higher
salaries than all the “nice” places in Texas. As a result, the school
facilities were (and are) opulent – almost from a different world than the
community around them. In West Texas, where football is king, the athletic
facilities are, of course, double opulent – a giant stadium with
state-of-the-art training facilities adjacent, artificial turf field, top-notch
track – nothing was too good for the 1960 Texas AA State Champions. The
trickle-down to the band department (my father was the band director) was
incredible as well. The students were provided with professional-level
equipment including artist-grade instruments, amazing facilities, and top-notch
instructional staff.

(In Denver City, apparently girls cannot be Mustangs)

My parents compensated for this environmental
torture by availing the family of elaborate means of escape. We owned an
airplane – a fast one – and we would generally hop inside the minute school was
out on Friday and go somewhere FAR away from Denver City – not to return until
the end of Sunday to prepare for the beginning of the next five-day school/work
week. When summer vacation hit, we’d pile into our slide-in pickup camper and
head out across the country – spending the glorious summer months exploring
anyplace and everyplace that was NOT Denver City. Like inmates with good
behavior privileges, we served our time in Denver City as efficiently as
possible, taking the first possible opportunity for parole.

As an adult, I love the travel we do in our
Airstream. As a child, the RV was our escape from Denver CIty. Climbing in the
RV meant leaving Denver City behind and experiencing trees, rivers, mountains,
lakes, different people, different cultures, and different weather. It meant a
huge gamut of sights, sounds, and ideas that were impossible to experience in
Denver City.

Likewise, as an adult I love to fly. Flying
gives me a feeling of control, freedom, and escape. I can leave the bonds of
Earth and zip to almost anywhere I desire. In less time than it took to suffer
the dusty farm-to-market roads between Denver City and Lamesa, our family could
be in the mountains of New Mexico, the vistas of Colorado, the beauty of the
Texas Hill Country. My love of flight as an adult is, I’m certain, partly
rooted in my disdain for Denver City as a child.

For most of my adult life, I have been strangely
haunted by Denver City. It’s a bit odd. Perhaps those formative years of 6-11
instill more of a sense of “place” in us than other periods in our childhood. I
have repeated dreams where I’ve gone back to Denver City as an adult. In the
dreams, I walk around town and it looks pretty much as I remember it – just
updated a bit. Nothing remarkable happens in the dreams. I just go back and
look around. It’s kinda the same as it was back then. I leave.

This week, I went back to Denver City for the
first time in forty years. The reality of our visit was almost exactly like my
dreams. We drove around town – past my old house (which had been nicely
updated), past the schools, down the main drag, and past a giant wedding (or
some sort of celebration) taking place at the city park. The place was, in many
ways, less dismal and hopeless than I had feared or imagined. The houses seemed
cared for, for the most part. The community seemed alive (unlike many of the
depressed-looking towns we passed through on the way there). It felt OK.

We were only in town long enough to have lunch
in the Airstream in the high school parking lot. We ate our chicken salad
parked next to the band director’s podium I had climbed so many times with my
father over forty years ago – watching in awe as he performed his magic on a
120-piece marching band. That part was shockingly unchanged. The band hall, the
painted field lines on the parking lot where the band practiced, the grand
entrance gate to the hallowed ground of the football stadium… it all felt
exactly as it did when I was a kid.

Leaving Denver City, I was reminded of one of
the worst things about growing up there. It is almost impossible to escape. To
get to anywhere else – you need to drive for hours and hours down long, dusty,
straight, flat roads with incredibly unremarkable scenery. It is a gauntlet
that is difficult to appreciate unless you’ve experienced it. Denver City keeps
you prisoner simply because of the insufferable journey one has to endure just
to get away from the place. Perhaps that’s why it took me forty years to come
back. Perhaps, it will be another forty before I’m ready to return.

(Posted by Kevin)

We’re in Amarillo

Laura Domela — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 20:33:30 +0000

We're staying at the Oasis RV Resort just outside of Amarillo, TX. In the corner of the park there's this giant conglomeration of billboard sign structure with no signage on it. Love it.

Here's the overall view of the Oasis RV Park from the entrance:

Concrete for ages. All spots are huge, and all sites are "Guaranteed Level!" Here's the view from our door:

And here we are:

Cadillac Ranch is just down the road from us:

And here's the RV park's nod to their neighbors:

We went into town to run a few errands (lunch, gas, car wash, Office Depot, Home Depot, more bourbon…). I dug the retro/cool architecture of the liquor store here:

And this address signage nearby was sweet as well:

Speaking of signage, I snapped this shot before we left Dumas this morning. This is the sign I saw when we were coming into town last night, so we went back to get it in the daylight. Turns out, it was cooler at night with the lights and stuff, but it's still kinda cool. I particularly liked the "Inkslinger" part.

Texoma Park, Dumas, TX

Laura Domela — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 12:41:56 +0000

We spent the night last night in a city park in Dumas, TX called Texoma Park. They offer a free night's stay for RV travelers, complete with electrical hookups. Apparently there's also water and a dump station nearby. I'd say this was quite a bit nicer than the Walmart down the road would have been.

We're going to get some work done this morning, double back down the road so I can take a photo of a cool sign that we passed on the way in, and perhaps replenish our supply of bourbon before heading to Amarillo.

Colorado, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas…all in one day

Laura Domela — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:56:10 +0000

Well we drove a bit further than we'd originally planned today. Easy driving, made some miles, took some pictures. Here ya go:

Truck stop lunch stop:

We stopped in Dumas, TX for the night. There's a county park here that has free overnight stays (with electric hookups if you need 'em). Our electric post has a bag over its head but we don't need it anyway so we just pulled in and Kyle'd it for the night. Made some salads, poured some wine, and did a little work (not in that order) and we'll head to Amarillo tomorrow after getting some more work done in the morning.

And yay, it's not stinky here (like it was in Cactus, TX). Bonus.