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Jack and Doreta are on their winter holidays touring in the US by car. The plan is to meet them in Phoenix where there's an anniversary party for Cornie and Irene (Jack's sister). Our friend Cindy is going to meet us there and, after the family party, the five of us are going to drive from Phoenix AZ to the Austin TX. We will fly back from Austin while Jack and Doreta continue their winter holidays driving back at their own pace.
Saturday, February 6
It's 9:30 and we're at the Pittsburgh Airport. We left London at 6:25am — definitely not our time of the day. We've been so busy at work that this holiday comes as a welcome relief. But our anxiety about work and excitement about the trip meant that we didn't get a good night's rest in spite of having gone to bed early. Kate says she was up from 2:00am waiting for the 4:45am alarm to ring .... well, actually she's been immersed in "Rumpole of the Old Bailey". Our cats, like Wolfie, make it hard to get a good sleep at the best of times.
Cindy is at home and will catch us later in Phoenix.
We took a cab to the airport in the darkness of 5:15am and a quick 20 minutes trips gets us to the check-in with lots of time to spare.
Our cabbie is Lebanese. He's 36 years old and has been in Canada for the last 20 years. We talk about the economy — he is a welder by trade but the company he works for has moved to Texas. He works 6pm to 6am each night and his wife has a day job. It turns out they have a child by in-vitro fertilization so we have some common ground. Like us, his experience is they are very glad they have it behind them and have no intentions to ever do it again. It is a tough emotional experience with the wacky fertility hormones making it even tougher.
The European Hoi Poloi in Animal Skins: On our flight from London to Pittsburgh there are three couples who are heavily clad in furs and leather. The women all wore expensive furs. The men mostly wore leather coats (Kate wore wool). One had leather pants; a European styling gathered at the waist with wide flowing legs. They're in their 50's and fit into the atmosphere of the London Airport like Lady Diana at a biker rally. They had British, French and possibly other accents and were actually a fairly cheerful gang of people. When we squeezed onto the 18 seater (it's a small commuter with no washroom, no stewardess) one woman said to me and the other men, "I'll be your stewardess for you." At which point Reg said loudly "STEWARDESS!" The woman turn to him laughing and he continued "Could you turn up the heat please!" His joke was duly appreciated. As it happened the fur people were more appropriately dressed for the long and freezing walk to the airplane and the chilly temperature in the plane when we first go on. The plane did warm up a bit after we were on board.
The new Pittsburgh Airport is a pleasant change from the old dirty rundown one we saw in September. There are lots of stores and prices are normal rather than inflated airport prices. We had bacon, eggs, hash browns, coffee, and juice for under $10 — for the two of us! We also had an interesting time browsing in a nature/science store and Reg got to participate in a survey.
Dateline 10:08 a.m. We are sitting on the plane in Pittsburgh waiting for takeoff. Kate says it feels like it's three in the afternoon not 10:00 in the morning. She hopes they'll send us a drink soon.
Dateline 11:25 a.m. Mountain Time and we're crossing the Great Divide (1:25 p.m. Eastern Time). The most exciting part of the plane trip is the bag of apple crisps that they just gave out. They are strangely awful. We have seen Kansas and New Mexico from the air including the Rio Grande River and Taos.
There's not much snow until we reach the mountains and then it's gone when we cross them and start into the desert country. The weather has been clear over the plains but we didn't see much of Pittsburgh or Ohio. We have a tailwind which is unusual going west and are scheduled to arrive a little early — we wonder if Jack and Doreta will be there to meet us. We had tried calling them last night but got no answer at Ruth and Guy's place. They were probably out playing bridge with the seniors at the trailer park in Mesa.
The Phoenix airport has four terminals and we land at terminal 2. It's sort of like the three terminals at Toronto. Jack (Kate's dad) and Guy Kaufman (Kate's uncle married to Jack's sister Ruth) meet us in the airport as we get off the plane. We are quite surprised to have two old geezers leading our way. They tell us how they struggled to find their way and we discover the next day when we pick Cindy up that it is indeed a hard spot to navigate — much harder than Toronto.
From the Phoenix airport to Mesa is quite a drive. It's at least a half hour; when Guy is driving it's a half hour on the edge of your seat! The Salt River has been flooding, it's very high. So much so that houses have been lost, cars have been washed away, and people have drowned! They've been building another bridge on the river and some of their work has been washed away. This is not what we expect of the desert country.
As we land we see many fields flooded with water and reflecting the sun. The fruit orchards (mostly citrus fruit) are flooded regularly, every 3 weeks we think, and are one of the prime reasons for the city.
The greater city of Phoenix seems to be 2 million or so. There's Phoenix proper, Scottsdale (a mucky muck area), Tempe, Mesa and more. Mesa is a trailer city and our Winnipeg kin (Guy and Ruth) as well our kin from Calgary (Corney and Irene Vanderputen who are celebrating their 50th anniversary, Irene is Jack's older sister) winter here at the "El Guacamole" trailer park — just kidding about the name. You have to be a senior over 55 to be here but there are lots of those. The trailer park is the winter home for these Canadians escaping the cold. As guests we sneak in under the age requirement.
Don and Vivian (Don is Jack's brother) are our first stop and the first thing to do is sample their oranges. They have oranges and grapefruit growing in their backyard and both are so sweet. They tell us that not all the trees we've seen have such sweet oranges. You see oranges in the rain gutters on the streets around town — they grow on the boulevard but are not as well tended. The trees that Don and Viv, Corney and Irene tend are very old but really produce.
The trailer park, the "Old Geezer Home for Retired Folks", is quite the spot. The homes are mostly well tended double wide park model trailers (Don and Viv) with some single wides (Ruth and Guy). Kate and Reg stay with Guy and Ruth. Their trailer looks like this: to the one side there's a covered patio while on the other side there's a covered car part. But everyone's trailer looks something like this. Some are narrow single wide units but many are double wides. All are well tended with huge cactus growing in the yard, perhaps a citrus or two in the back, with course gravel for the yards (grass is not appropriate in the desert country).
Sunday February 7
Kate and Reg had arrived yesterday and Cindy arrives today.
Kate and Reg borrow Jack and Doreta's car to pick Cindy up at the Phoenix airport and arrive there looking like the quintessential tourists replete with cameras around their necks, sunglasses on strings and a huge homegrown orange. We can confirm that navigating the several terminals is a bit of a challenge.
Since it was pretty hot in Phoenix, Cindy changed in the ladies room from her winter clothes to her tropicals, and we are off to the Herd Museum. It's a native cultural and art center. We only had about 2 hours until we had to be back at the Mesa trailer park for the golden anniversary festivities (Cornie and Irene's anniversary party). The museum was very interesting with some displays intended to make white men feel pretty guilty (rightly so, we have a lot to answer for). We bought some postcards in the gift shop and something for Cindy's nieces, Rachel and Sarah.
Then we high-tailed it for the motel that we had already booked for Cindy. It's a good deal with a bedroom suite for just $25, located around the corner from the trailer park and just down the street from the Mesa Morgan church that looked like Caesar's palace. (Clarification: Kate and Reg call Mormons "Morgans" and blame Mike Schwan for that).
All surviving members of the Graham clan, Jack's family, are are here in Mesa for the anniversary party. The clan are: brother Walt (deceased) and Glenys Graham (Glenys was staying with Don and Vivian); Cornie and sister Irene Vanderputten; Guy and sister Ruth Kaufman (who Kate and Reg stayed with); Jack and Doreta Graham (who stayed with Don and Vivian); brother Harry Graham and his girlfriend Jean (who had their own Winnebago type vehicle); and brother Don and Vivian Graham who were the gracious hosts. They were all here to celebrate Cornie and Irene's golden wedding anniversary.
A family reunion was held at Don and Viv's (they of the double wide with the orange and grapefruit trees). Two guests from Winnipeg were there as well, younger people who were friends of Ruth and Irene. Everyone pitched in with salads and such for a potluck dinner — a great feast was had. We even cracked open the wine! They are a gang of teetotalers so that was an event. We three (Cindy, Kate and Reg) were called "the kids" by the Graham clan; even though we are old enough to be grand parents! We're "kids" by comparison.
Reg and Kate took some family pictures. Jack, who had somehow lost a tooth from his upper plate on the trip, is especially comical in these photos.
Monday, February 8th
The first day on the road from Phoenix is raining but we say adios to the Graham clan and head East on "Main Street" towards the "Superstition Mountains" which are home to the "Lost Dutchman" mine ... which remains lost to this day. It's about 1,000 miles to Austin and Kate's plan is for us to get there as quickly as possible over the next three days.
We get about 2 miles down the road to a market where we stop to to stock up on Arizona oranges (which are so yummy) and get some mix for the backseat gals. Kate and Cindy start early and the persuade Doreta that this is the only way to travel. The next day she swears off having gotten quite tipsy on the long drive. She even offered to drive today, we wisely refused.
Jack and Doreta have their Subaru station wagon. Jack and Reg share driving duties up front in the two bucket seats while Kate, Cindy and Doreta are wedged into the bench seat at back. Behind them the car is loaded to the gunnels with our luggage. Every morning packing up the Subaru was a challenge that Jack and Reg somehow met. The car was quite loaded down and things barely fit in.
We had lunch in Tucson at a phony mall with a health club and a "Whole Earth" styled restaurant. You'll known the type of restaurant — nuts and berries, vegetarian, tofu etc. It was called "The Good Earth". although I doubt they've read the book but in any case, restaurant stops with Jack and Doreta are a little bizarre! Because she, Doreta, doesn't think he, Jack, can make up his mind about what to have. This may be true — we don't really know because she always orders for him. It invariably goes something like this:
The waitress will take all our orders and then looking at Jack asks, "And for you sir?". And then Doreta intermediately interjects saying, "He'll have the ...". Whatever that might be that she has decided for him.
Now I don't know if Jack can or cannot make up his mind about a dinner order. I do know he never gets a chance to do so. In this restaurant, as per usual, Jack is told what he's having for lunch without any discussion. But then some of us start ordering drinks — you know, tea, coffee, water, perhaps wine or a beer. And Jack has an opportunity to make up his own mind before Doreta can jump in. Jack says, "I'll have the yogurt drink." We all look at one another dumbfounded — what the hell is he talking about? What has he been reading, where did he get that? We know they have yogurt cones, yogurt desserts, etc. on the menu but whoever heard of a yogurt drink? We were stunned.
But sure enough, he's right. They have a yogurt drink flavored with fresh fruit and it tastes great, probably the best drink of all for Jack. He noticed it on a chalked sign on the wall, it wasn't even in the menu! We got quite the laugh out of that one.
The desert between Phoenix and Tucson has Saguaro cactus all over the place. These are the tall ones with branching arms that birds nest in. The birds dig out their nests. These are pretty, unique and only found around this part of Arizona, parts of California, and across the border in nearby Mexico too. This is the Sonoran desert and seems to coincide with the drainage basin of the Salt, Gila and Lower Colorado rivers of Arizona. The Mojave is in California and Nevada including Death Valley. The Chihuahua desert is to the east and roughly corresponds to the drainage of the Rio Grande river.
The desert around us is very green from the rain. The "Teddy Bear Cholla" cactus are especially brilliant with their new growth. Paulo Verde trees are wispy green like asparagus. The rain persists all day so we don't get out for a walk. Besides, Kate keeps pushing us as she wants to make time and get to Austin which is some 1,000 miles away.
Our first night is somewhere on the road in New Mexico. The next day, it's El Paso Texas.
Tuesday, February 9
Our shopping trip from El Paso to Juarez didn't start promising but did end up with some fun and laughs. We got a trolley tour bus from El Paso across the Rio Grande into Juarez. It stopped at various places where you can get off and eat or shop or whatever. You can then catch the trolley the next time it comes by an hour later and you can ride the trolley all day for only $8. It's a pretty good deal and an easy way to cross the border.
We arrived in El Paso around 10:30 a.m. and pooped around until the 11:00 a.m. trolley left. While waiting we visited an historic hotel with a gorgeous leaded glass dome over the bar in El Paso. Apparently Pancho Villa stayed here.
The trolley driver, Marty, was quite the joker giving a little commentary as we crossed the mighty Rio Grande and drove around Juarez. Juarez is huge, perhaps 5 million people, and El Paso (the pass to the north) is only about 600,000. We entered Juarez outside of the downtown area. It was kind of scuzzy, industrial area with little malls and lots of traffic. The people at the trolley place in El Paso had recommended one particular restaurant so, of course, we went there.
The restaurant the trolley folk recommended is in the "new" part of the city. We were afraid of eating in Mexico (dysentery and all that) but the tourist information lady in El Paso had said her colleague takes his grandmother to at least this place, "Salon Mexico", so we decided it would be a safe adventure. We have free margaritas but the service is incredibly slow and the food was only "so-so". Doreta had a club sandwich, Jack had a ham and cheese, Reg had a Mexican steak thing while Cindy and Kate shared the Mexican plate. The next morning Cindy commented that at least we didn't get dysentery — small mercies.
When we left the restaurant we went across the street to a small mall with a K-Mart kind of place and we weren't very impressed. So there we were: the scenery was industrial scuzzy, the meal was disappointing, then shopping was useless, and then, to make matters worse, Doreta came all over queer! She was holding her left arm, looking ill, sweating and popping pills. Kate started wondering just how bad the medical system in Mexico really was. We grabbed the first trolley and were going to skip downtown but Doreta had a panic need to use the crapper so we ended up shopping downtown after all.
On route, we picked up some other people and learned that we had gone to the wrong restaurant! We should have gone to "Chihuahua Charlie's" where you're well fed and you get two huge margaritas for the price of one. Not only were these young people flying when they got on board the trolley the waiter followed them out carrying two more margaritas that they had forgotten!
Anyways, downtown Juarez was more like Nuevo Laredo which we had visited on our first trip to Texas. Both the good and the bad. It had the goods that we were interested in, but we also had to put up with people accosting us incessantly trying to sell us jewelry, leather bags and blankets. With the shopping at hand, Doreta started to come around, thank god, and bought some ponchos.
We only had a short time to shop and weren't really interested in buying anything. Well, Reg thought about buying some cowboy boots having skipped them in Nuevo Laredo, and there certainly were lots to choose from here in the Jaurez Old Town Market. The new peso is about 3 to the dollar and when you see nice boots in snakeskin, or ostrich, or etc. at only 75 pesos you kind of think that you really ought to buy.
We were wandering around inside the Old Town market, where there's lots of leather, silver, wool as well as fruit, vegetable and meat stands when Kate found a place with really neat rugs. She was fond of a hall runner she found. It was about 3' by 12' in a native design much like what we had seen in Santa Fe. She showed it to Reg and expressed an interest.
Well, if you're in sales, you know you've got one on the hook when the punters start looking. So the vendor at the stall tells us that it's handmade by Indians, with natural dyes, from virgin lambs, etc. And wouldn't it be nice to buy it for your wife. And you only go around once. And what the hey, my boss tells me to sell this for $300 but you're such a nice guy. And we want to make your wife happy. So, how's about $250?
Now Reg likes the rug as well, and he knows that when we've looked at similar rugs and Santa Fe this one would have gone for say $1,000, so $300 and better yet $250 is a great deal and something that he would jump on if he was looking for a rug, but he's not and tells the seller that.
Kate has run away because she doesn't want to dicker and Reg is trying to get away because he doesn't want to either and, to top it off, he's not really interested in a rug — leather boots perhaps. So the ballet proceeds — Reg is trying to get away all the time and the vendor keeps giving him another and another final offer ("don't tell anyone I sold this to you at this price"). And you will recall, Reg doesn't really want a rug although Kate has expressed some interest.
So finally the guys says $50. And Reg can't believe it. Reg says, "You'll take $50?" And the vendor replies, "Sure $50 and it's yours". And Reg says, "Well gosh, of course, I'll pay $50!" You'll recall that all Reg had ever said was, "No, no, no thank you!" At $50 this is highway robbery with Reg the robber!
But, at $50, you know there was a but. He's trying to sell a different rug and not the runner Reg and Kate are interested in. And of course the runner isn't going to be $50. So Reg says, "Go away. I do not want that rug, I only want the runner. Yes, I know it's handmade, natural dyes, special wool from virgin lambs, etc." and he proceeds to walk away.
The vendor calls out, "Come back, come back! Don't go! And don't tell anyone. I'll make you this special offer — just for you. Sales are slow, I need the money, your wife will love you, etc. Only, don't tell my boss. For you, today, $75."
Reg says, "Okay." Well actually, as the vendor is wrapping it up, Reg says "I have to talk to my wife" but the sale is a done deal. The sale has been made, he buys this runner for $75, and the vendor has convinced him that it would be a good idea to give him an extra $5 tip. He says, "Entertainment value, you have lots of money, you'll always remember me!" And of course he's right, for more reasons to come.
Reg proudly takes his purchase and finds Kate in the market who says, "You've bought the wrong rug! I like them both. But, I like the color of the other one better. This will not do!" While we were having this discussion, a guitar player was trying to serenade us with song and would not take no for an answer. We had to move away to thrash that out.
Reg is thinking, "Oh great, just what I'm looking for. I've been haggled into a corner. I didn't want the rug and now I've either got a rug that Kate doesn't want or I'm going to have to haggle again to exchange it." Kate agrees to come with him back to the stall.
The friend who sold the rug isn't in sight but Reg explains the situation to his compadre who is at the stall. He tells me us the rug we want to exchange for is worth much more and Reg has an uneasy feeling that lengthy negotiations are going to follow — "Oh shit, this isn't fun."
Fortunately, the original vendor, who Reg had generously tipped $5, arrives and says "No problem", and it's done. Kate has the rug she wants at a very reasonable price and the vendor has made a sale, no hard feelings, everyone is as happy as a clam.
Purchases in hand, the next port of call is the liquor store. This is dubious according to the trolley service since the owner lost a leg to cancer and often closes shop to go to the zoo. Fortunately for us, he was there watching the world pass by from his wheelchair while his wife and son (a guess) tend the shop. We bought some Mezcal with the worm for Pat and conventional liquors like rye, vodka and so on. Also a tiny, by Mexican standards, bottle of vanilla. What does one do with a litre of vanilla? Jack and Doreta were buying more ponchos, which they didn't dicker on, although the vendor gave them the pity mark down from $25 to $20.
We met back at the market and Kate looked at some boots but did not buy. Reg was too exhausted and will buy boots another time. Of course this is the second time he's passed deals on excellent Mexican boots. We met our trolley to return to El Paso after Doreta bought some cigarettes from the one-armed street vendor. He really had only one arm — there's a lot of missing limbs in Mexico.
We're crossing the border back into El Paso and at US Customs & Immigration the officer asked if we were all Americans and several hands are raised. We few are the exception — Canadian nationality but no papers are required by any of us. It's considerably more stringent than getting into Mexico but very lax. He asked if anyone has purchased liquor in Mexico and the advice he gives to those who have is: a) taxes apply about $1 bottle — but are waived; and b) use it in your car radiator — it's not safe to drink. We have a chuckle and return without much effort to El Paso, Texas.
We'd really like to shop for a few days in Mexico sometime. This quick in-'n-out routine is fun but more time would be nice. Oh well, another time.
After leaving El Paso we saw a huge tumbleweeds bounding over the highway in the wind and laugh that it could have been pretty dangerous if one had landed on the hood when lo and behold one does! Reg's superior driving skills save the day. They're big, but very light. Not much impact when you hit them.
We've been heading for Fort Stockton but we're all getting pretty tuckered and hungry. Also, it appears that we are within striking distance of Austin so maybe we don't need to push so hard.
We turned off into this small town of Balmorhea,Texas around 8:15. It's about 2 miles off the highway and is a very small town of about 200 people. It didn't look at all promising, but we managed to find a nice motel with new furnishings and a comfy king size bed for only $33. The hotel was located beside a picturesque canal (that smelled a little like a sewer). Across the street was a restaurant that closed at 9:00 p.m., so we hustled over. A nice competent but strangely dressed woman in her 30s waited on us (she was wearing a hat). She told us they didn't have a liquor license yet but we could bring in our own booze which we did with alacrity.
Kate had the Texas tradition — chicken fried steak; Reg and Cindy had Tex/Mex food — the specialty of the house; and Doreta stuck to safe down home fried food — bacon and eggs even though it wasn't breakfast time.
Wednesday, February 10
We left Balmorhea, Texas pretty early after checking out the local scenery. It's pretty much a ghost town with a sort of gathering place at the drugstore. When Kate and Cindy walked into it, to check out the postcards, the place fell silent, sort of like when the stranger enters the saloon in a classic Western movie. However, conversation soon picked up and people were friendly enough. Across from the motel was a grocery store where Kate went at 7:00 a.m. to get some coffee. The woman at the counter asked Kate if she was from the motel and commented that she guessed the motel owner wasn't up yet to provide coffee for her guests!
Anyway, we set out hoping to get as far as Sonora for the night. After about an hour on the road we stopped in Fort Stockton for breakfast. Kate picked out a particularly colorful diner and we trooped in. The menu was pretty Tex/Mex so Kate, Reg and Cindy ordered accordingly. Doreta ordered toast and coffee. Well, there's no toast on the premises. It looked like Doreta was going to go hungry imperiling us all when Reg had the brilliant idea of ordering her a corn tortilla (she can't eat white flour) with a scrambled egg on top. It was great and Jack enjoyed his Tex/Mex breakfast too. We then drove over to the town's main attraction — "Paisano Pete", the world's biggest road runner, it's at least 10 ft. tall. Pictures were taken and a postcard was sent to Christine in Winnipeg who collects pictures of big things.
We're soon on the road again. The gals in the back seat are sipping on an "eye opener" and Jack is driving. Kate developed a severe case of car sickness due to the somewhat jerky ride but the drink was helping somewhat.
We soon hit Sonora and it too looked pretty much like a ghost town. There are lots of empty stores, etc.; probably a result of the oil industry bust. However, we had seen an ad for a trading post where the specialty of the area, mohair, was sold. After a bit of searching we found the place and it turned out to be pretty neat. Outside was a horse corral, with a smithy working on horseshoes, where Reg spent a fair bit of time schmoozing with the fellas and the horses. The trading post also had a replica of an old jail and sheriff's office. Pictures of the jail were taken and we're assuming it was "Sonora's Death Row" of Robert Earl Keen fame (actually that Sonora is a Mexican state just below Arizona and the story in the song is set there).
The store at the trading post in Sonora was great. There were lots of gift items, lots of mohair clothes and a beautiful carpet. Kate wanted the carpet but it cost $3,400 US and Reg wasn't about to try bargaining. Doreta pretty well bought the place out — earrings to match her jacket, a silver bracelet watch, and other stuff. Kate bought a clothes hook for the Ramada at our summer trailer and a light switch cover. After some gentle prodding, Cindy opened her new wallet and bought Pat some jalapeno pepper.
It was too early to stay for the night so on we went looking for a likely spot. We stopped in Junction at 4:00 for a late lunch. Reg was convinced the restaurant was the "Lone Star Hotel Café" of Guy Clark fame although there was no hotel, and this café was called Isaac's. However, the waitress did have that beehive hair (we didn't, but should have, ordered "greasy enchiladas and a beer to wash it down"). There was a jukebox beside our table that Kate and the waitress kept busy. All the songs were of the Ray Stevens / Patsy Cline ilk. The food was pretty good — Tex/Mex and American and plenty of it. Doreta and Jack were happy because they could get brown gravy.
It was still too early to bunk down so we headed for Fredericksburg. On the way Cindy decided that Kerrville made more sense because it was bigger and thus likely to have nicer motels.
All along the Interstate Highway Number 10 from Balmorhea to Kerrville there are lots of dead deer that have been hit by cars and trucks. Doreta felt really bad because she was never able to see one, but the rest of us had more than our fill. We also spot lots of the famous mohair goats but when we get out of the car to photograph them they ran like hell — no fools are they. This part of the world is prime hunting country. Stuffed animal heads adorned many walls and there seem to be a fair number of taxidermy establishments.
The other interesting thing is once we get off Highway 10, to take the back way into Kerrville, the scenery became quite lovely. We're in the famous Texas Hill country and it's very rolling with lots of grand ranches scattered throughout.
In Kerrville, at Doreta's recommendation, we booked into an Econo motel and because Doreta was with us we all got the senior's discount. The motel turned out to be pretty run down but good enough. The good part was that it had a restaurant for Jack and Doreta and a washer / dryer just outside Kate and Reg's room to catch up on the laundry.
Once we had all the clothes in the washer we hung out together and attempted to teach Cindy how to play "Bridge". That was pretty disastrous, so we turn to "Whist" for Cindy to get the hang of making tricks, trump suites, bidding and whatever. That part fared some what better, but we soon called it a quits for the evening. Reg and Doreta went to the restaurant for a bite; Kate and Cindy yacked up for a while and afterwards we all went to our early beds!
At the restaurant Doreta said to Reg that if he ever hurt Kate she would kill him! An odd thing to bring up but there you have it. Then when she came back to the hotel she raved to Kate about how great Reg was and that if Kate ever left him she'd marry him herself! An odd conversation on both counts.
Thursday, February 11
We spent the morning pooping around the motel and shopping in downtown Kerrville. There were some neat stores in the old part although there are not many stores. Kate was fascinated by the clothes, which were either minis or very long and all quite differently styled from what we got back home. These were the two most common styles: long skirts which sometimes had fringes (mostly they were bright colors, although some were denim) and narrow tight fitting skirts (these were somewhat more subdued, often in a tapestry fabric).
Kate thought the skirts were lovely and reasonably priced but didn't see anything that she wouldn't have felt ridiculous in. She did try on one of the denim mini outfits with lots of embroidery decoration but the skirt was too tight.
For lunch we went to a Chinese restaurant behind the JC Penny mall. It was packed and we had to wait about 15 minutes. The food was too salty but otherwise not too bad — better than the Chinese food in London but not nearly up to Toronto standards. We waddled out commenting on how all meals in Texas and the US are so large. After stopping at JC Penney's we decided that the shoes Doreta was interested in were too expensive, so we piled into the car and drove the 24 miles on to Fredericksburg.
Fredericksburg is a picturesque town with lots of gift shops and a real tourist center. We found an acceptable motel — Cindy has daily anxiety attacks about whether this will be the day that we finally force her to stay in a fleabag motel! The motel was within walking distance of the downtown, so we had a drink and set out.
There were lots of interesting things in the stores but most were quite pricey. We were most fascinated by the stores that sold wine, preserves and spices. We bought more green chili and other souvenirs for Pat and a few other items (e.g. blueberry jam for the condo stay on Canyon Lake). Kate bought some earrings, a couple of small bowls (one sunflower) and a golf towel for Joan. Cindy bought wind chimes and a Llano Estacado Chardonnay wine for some night at the condo. Doreta bought some writing paper but found the places to be too expensive until we directed her to the store where Kate had found her earrings (all earrings were $1.98). There she stocked up on earrings and a flashy purse ($17) suitable for any evening in Las Vegas.
There are lots of antique stores in both Kerrville and Fredericksburg.
After shopping we loafed around the motel until 6:30 — Doreta and Jack had a nap while Reg, Cindy and Kate munched on nuts and other assorted snacks in the anticipation of dinner! Reg had bought a baby bourbon (pocket sized but not airplane size). When dinner time came we went across the street to a German restaurant called "The Sunday House" for our dinner.
Sunday houses are "one room and loft structures used by ranchers and Farmers when they traveled to town for sleeping and Sunday church services" ... from the CAA motor guide.
Jack and Kate had sausages and eggs, Reg the ubiquitous steak, Cindy something as close as she could get to Mexican, while Doreta had a fruit salad and chicken salad. Once again these are enormous Texas sized portions.
After dinner Cindy, Jack and Kate walked over to see the graveyard before bunking in for the night. On the way, they think they identified the Big Dipper, Orion and Cassiopeia but weren't sure as the sky looks so different down here. It was a clear night and there were lots of stars!
Friday, February 12
We left Fredericksburg around 9:30 heading east towards Austin. Along the way we pass lots of LBJ tourist opportunities near Johnson City. There's a billboard that says, "Best Fried Chicken in the World — Almost Three Dozen Sold" and a field, not a yard, full of rusty cars as far as the eye could see.
Our map of Austin shows Barton Springs Road so we decided to take the route in passing by "the sacred waters of Barton Springs" as taught to us by Gary P. Nunn (from "What I Like About Texas"). Instead of a little spring for a few kids swimming in the summer, the area around Barton Springs Road turned out to be a large resort area with colorful restaurants, bars and even trailer parks. We tried to talk Jack and Doreta into buying a trailer there, it would be more fun than Mesa, and we could visit them.
Our first stop was lunch at the Magnolia Cafe on South Congress (to the south of Town Lake). It's still the funkiest place in town with a strangely dressed bald waitresses, original art on the walls, and an assortment of customers from students/hippies to business types. The food was still great. Kate had an omelet filled with avocado, cheese and black olives that comes with beans and hash browns on the side. She says it was her best meal of the trip. Jack ordered the small order of pancakes which turned out to be two 1-inch thick dinner plate size pancakes. It was a good he didn't ask for the large order.
The restaurant was busy, bustling and noisy. Doreta and Jack found this somewhat unsettling but still got a kick out of it. As we were leaving, Doreta decided to buy a couple of T's. Since they only had XXL, they gave her two for the price of one. Since one shirt was only $8.95, this turned out to be a heck of a deal. They said they were trying to get rid of them since they only had XXL left. The shirts were really nice and Kate volunteered to take one of their off their hands for use as a night shirt.
The next stop was Waterloo Records on Lamar street (to the north side of Town Lake). It is in a little mall that also contains the Waterloo Ice House where Butch Hancock and others sometimes play. There's also a clothing store in the mall. The youngsters loaded up on CDs while Jack bought Doreta her Valentine's Day present — a skirt from that small clothing store. Doreta has taken to justifying each new purchase by saying it was a gift from Jack for Valentine's Day, or her birthday, or next Christmas, and so on. She was now several years ahead but seemed unworried. She's probably working under the assumption that the "Old Goat" would eventually forget or at least forgive.
Finally, we reached our destination for the day. The Driskill hotel — "Staying up all night in the Driskill hotel" (from "Ramblin' Jack & Mahan" by Guy Clark). Here Jack and Reg made a scene by stealing the bellhop luggage wheeler (they're too cheap to tip the bell hop). This became a problem because the route to our rooms involved stairs and only the service elevator could reach our rooms directly, but they weren't going to let us use that! Rather than give in and actually use a bellhop, an aberration on par with paying for parking, we were able to take the elevator up to the fifth floor, walk across the hotel, and then take another elevator to our floor.
The "hosers" from Ontario finally made it to their rooms where they ran back and forth gushing over the elegance of each room in turn. Doreta joined Reg, Kate and Cindy for a drink in Reg and Kate's room, where a plan was formed to drop Doreta at the hotel hairdresser while the rest of us shopped around nearby on 6th and Congress. We called down:
Kate: "Can you do my mom's hair?"Salon: "Is that wash, cut and blow dry or just wash and blow dry?"Kate: "Well, you know, can you do it like up in curlers?Salon: "We don't have any curlers but maybe we can do something "Kate: "Great"; job done!
The next embarrassing event can be blamed 100% on the "Old Goat" who put the deadlock on his hotel room door while Doreta was with us in our room. I guess he wanted some privacy when he went to sit on the crapper for a while. When Doreta went back to get her things, before going out to the hairdresser, of course she couldn't get into the room. We pounded and pounded on the door assuming Jack had taken off his hearing aid and gone to sleep not knowing why the key wouldn't work. We even got the chamber maid to come over and try her key — no luck for her either. Finally, after pounding some more a sheepish "Old Goat" opens the door for us. In my opinion, hanging was too good for him, but he got off uninjured.
Pecan or 6th Street appears to be more run down than ever. The "Women's Bookstore" was still there, where Reg bought a CD by "Two Nice Girls" while Kate and Cindy bought a couple of books. Eventually, Reg went off on his own (he walked north on Congress to the capital) while Cindy and Kate went to do a few stores. They separated a bit and bumped into one another at the store in the Driskill which sold prints of Luckenbach, as well as prints of Gary P. and Willie. Kate bought Jack his own trailer traveler bottle.
Dinner plans included making as many happy hours as possible in order to sample all the free happy hour food. The bar on the second floor of the Driskill had a nice spread of fruit and cheese so we decided to start there. Doreta ordered a "Rye and Ginger" which the waitress found quite incomprehensible. She asks, "Where are you from?"; we "Canada"; she "It figures". It appears that you're supposed to order Rye Whiskey and Coke or 7Up, the bars here don't stock Ginger Ale.
We have to rush Doreta through her drink which may account for her later behavior! We need to make it to the next place as the happy hour ends at 7:00!
We had decided to hit a bar on the Barton Springs area for our next happy hour free food. We'd seen one coming in but couldn't find it so ended up sitting at the bar of a very busy Mexican restaurant where they mixed up margaritas by the pail full — no kidding! They're chilled and poured from a machine like that at the dairy Queen for soft ice cream. Cindy calls the Dairy Queen "Ishka Pishka". We had never seen Margaritas served in bulk this way — in retrospect frozen margaritas are pretty common.
They had a so-so spread of Mexican munchies and we enjoyed ourselves watching the busy and efficient bartenders and the crowd with lots of small kids and babies. Of course, some of us enjoyed ourselves more than others. Doreta busied herself chatting up the young man sitting beside her at the bar. Now is a good time to mention her hair do. We all thought it looked rather nice. It was a much fuller than usual, probably due to the backcombing. However, she hated it and thought it made her look 70s (ah... I'm sorry Doreta you are 70).
Anyways, the hairdo seem to work on the young man next to her because he ignores his date (perhaps his wife) and talks to Doreta for ages about his musical ambitions and so on. Doreta had to be pried away so that we could visit the restroom before going to the Broken Spoke. She told him that we were going to the Broken Spoke which he thought was great. She also asked him whether he thought she was too old to go to Luckenbach — she's such a coy little number! And he replied, "Oh no, Luckenbach transcends age." Later Kate was talking to him while waiting for Doreta to come out of the restroom. He thought Jack and Doreta were visiting us and that we lived in Austin. After finding out that we were all from Canada, and expressing amazement about the five of us traveling a thousand miles in a small car from Phoenix, he said he was really impressed at the places that we had picked to go to and couldn't think of any places better to suggest. He also said that the last time we was at the Broken Spoke he played pool with Joe Ely (he of "Musta Notta Gotta Lotta" fame). A review from the Toronto Star that Pat left for us said that Joe was a real pool shark. Kate didn't know this about the Broken Spoke so wasn't as impressed as she ought to have been.
When we left the restaurant (happy hours end at 7:00), it wasn't apparent that Doreta, Ms. Rye and Ginger fame and yes, she did ask for it again at the restaurant and got the same confused response, was quite tipsy. She seemed to get even more so on the short route to the Broken Spoke. We arrived early and there was the usual array of pickup trucks in the gravel parking lot. The dancehall itself didn't open until 8:00 p.m. so we sat in the restaurant at the front trying to sober Doreta up.
The men's washroom sold condoms and novelties from a 50 cent vending machine. Reg returned with a "Generic Rubber" labelled for "Cheap Fuckers". Doreta, who we were plying with coffee in a half-hearted attempt to achieve sobriety, or at least stabilize the stumbling, thought these novelties were a great sport and we set out to collect them all, sort of like baseball cards. The "Old Goat" Jack disappeared, lost again, for a good 10 minutes and but returned with some "Love Oil" flavored for licking, aromatic for sniffing, and tingly too. We tried it out (on our arms and bare skin not on that part!) and were sorely disappointed. I guess you have to be in the mood.
Jack had got lost trying to find the men's room. It's just over there with the sign saying "MEN" but he had ended up in the dance hall — which doesn't open until 8:00 and wasn't open because it wasn't eight! Nevertheless, as an old geezer stumbling around lost, a certain amount of respect accrues by virtue of age and an unwillingness to ask for directions.
There were a few folks having chicken fried steak (advertised as "The Best in Austin") and some playing pool. We pointed the tables out to Doreta and mentioned the story we had been told at the last bar. In response she asks, "Who's Joe Ely?" No one would play pool with Reg. Doreta, who might have been willing, wasn't allowed by the rest who had become quite sober for balance.
We showed the old folks the Broken Spoke "Hall of Fame" room. There are lots of photos of the greats with the owner James White.
That night the entertainer was Alvin Crow, a fiddler who plays regularly at the Broken Spoke. We think the owner, James White, is his manager or something; he's at least a great fan. Alvin Crow has several records on a "Broken Spoke" label. There's even a neat poster (in the line of Luckenbach, Gary P, etc.) of Alvin Crow in front of the bar. It's a nice reproduction of a detailed pencil drawing. If Alvin Crow wasn't in it, Reg might have bought it. He's quite good, but just not our style.
Postscript: Alison took a "liking" to Alvin Crow when she saw him play at Gueros in 2009 on another visit.
Gary P. Nunn was to play next Friday, Jerry Jeff Walker in March, Joe Ely played in January (and played pool with Doreta's pal from the previous bar on that very pool table). Reg thinks Robert Earl Keene had played recently as well. There's lots of great music that plays here.
But Alvin Crow is there for a reason, he's here to play for the dancers. The Broken Spoke is a dance hall. He came on at about 9:00 after a brief sound check. The roadie says, "Check" and Doreta quite loudly responds, "Mate!" The dancing was non-stop as soon as Alvin Crow and his band hit the stage.
Some of the characters dancing deserve special mention:
- An old hermit/Methuselah character with a youngish attractive very thin wife. Actually, they were both about the same age: 50ish. They had a dancing style all their own and sometimes, only sometimes, they would dance like sane folks. Their dress was especially exceptional — he had a long gray beard, pierced ears, leather duster, moccasins, vest, a hat with bangles attached, etc. He never (no never, well hardly ever) cracked a smile. But mostly they ran about, sometimes chasing one another, other times skipping and most amazing sometimes dashing about facing opposite directions — she facing one way, he facing another, arms locked back to back. They were dashing about like whirling dervishes. And he never smiles! Nor did she. And they did all of this using the Texas two step in perfect time to the music! Amazing!
- Another couple were noteworthy because the man was so goofy looking when he danced. First, he first he held his hand flat like he was serving drinks rather than holding his wife's hand. His main problem, however, was that he mostly danced backwards and since he was also leading he had to turn his head back and forth to look behind to make sure he didn't bump into anyone. Normal dancers, where the man leads, the man faces forward most of the time, except for spins which are done when space permits, so they can see that they don't bump into someone. The dance floor at the Broken Spoke is quite crowded and people move quickly so protocol is essential. Most important thing about the man who danced backwards was that, although he looked like he was having a ball, his wife looked like she knew he looked stupid and she looked embarrassed and resigned.
- Another couple of note were the young couple who looked like each other and danced very well. She had very long hair.
- There was the tall largeish woman in the red hat who was dancing with the an equally largeish man and didn't appear to be having much fun.
- And a lady who sort of hunkered over her man's gut with her head nestled on his breast. We never saw her face.
Mostly, the dancers appear to be having a great time and even the older couples look very smart. Most of the men wore tight jeans and cowboy hats. The women also wore tight jeans or else they wore dance skirts. Kate figured that the thin bodies of even the older women was related to wearing tight jeans and never taking them off. Kind of like binding your feet as in China.
A note on the "dance floor". It's actually a concrete pad laid directly on the ground and polished smooth by all the dancers over all the years. Around the dance floor is a low ceiling area with tables and chairs and a rickety raised wooden floor which wouldn't be solid enough for dancing. Actually, the whole place has a rather low ceiling, even the stage area.
Guess what! We had the same waitress as we had two years ago — she who carried her ashtray on her tray so she could smoke conveniently whenever/wherever she was. We had asked her for a ginger ale for Doreta who was tired of the coffee. The waitress paused for a second and then said, "okay." When Kate looked at her quizzically, she elaborated that they just mix Coke and 7UP and it tastes "just like ginger ale". Seems okay to us, but I'm sure the makers of Canada Dry Ginger Ale would not agree! As it happens, Doreta did not notice the difference.
Some of the people at nearby tables also seem familiar. There was a couple who were around 60 with a young couple, perhaps their son and daughter or spouse, who Kate thought had been there last time. Also three single gals, who didn't get to dance much since almost everyone came in couples. Next to us was a nice middle-aged couple who were all done up and appeared to be on a date. At one point, when they were getting up to dance, they knocked over a chair. Reg, the joker, told them that we planned on leaving when people started throwing chairs around!
The women's washroom was pretty much unchanged from the last time. Possibly new shower curtains, but certainly no cleaner. The shower curtains were used to provide the person sitting on the toilet some privacy. But, for some reason, the thing to do seems to be to take your cigarette and burn holes in the plastic curtain. The curtain on the far cubicle was particularly interesting as the pattern consisted of small animals with their eyes burned out!
Alvin Crow and his band played a very long set that ended with a few line dances. People seem to immediately recognize them as such and away they go in sequence with lots of fancy footwork in lines of two through about six. Too big a line would fill the floor which is only about 20 feet wide.
Kate and Reg fumbled through one dance where Alvin Crowe does a passible Buddy Holly sequence. But they were not too confident as dancers where everyone else swirled and twirled as they glide about. Some dancing back-to-back, others leading whilst looking over their shoulders.
At the set break, or better said just before, the owner James White arrived to schmooze around and shake a few hands. He's something of an icon and dresses in a distinctive style with a 10 gallon hat, an embroidered white shirt, a leather vest over a protruding belly, cowboy boots, bolero tie, etc. This is pretty much exactly what he wore the last time we were here in '91 to see Gary P Nunn (and the "Sons of the Mother Lovin' Bunkhouse Band). The same chubby lady, minus her baseball cap, rolls out the old wagon wheel with a broken spoke and the floor clears for James to mount stage and give his spiel"
"We ain't no fancy fernie bar.And we don't got no Pierre water.But we got good beer, good whiskey, and fine looking women."
The place celebrates this simplicity. I'm sure that's why the bathrooms are such a mess, why the building totters one step from falling down — e.g. the roof leaks at several places so they put up some corrugated roofing and these rain troughs/gutters to catch the rain ... all this is on the inside not on the roof! It is a simple uncomplicated place with no pretentions. Draft beer is 50 cents before 9:30 and served in plastic cups. Other beers are served in the long neck bottle or can but never in a glass. Any mixed drinks that can't be expressed as booze blank and blank mix (e.g. Whiskey and Coke) is okay but we would advise anyone to not ask for a fancy mixed drink like a Mai Tai or Pina Colada. You could have a Cuba Libre if you ask for a "rum and coke". But a Strawberry Daquiri? Ha! You'd be laughed out the door.
The men's washrooms, there are two of them, have very low ceilings with a couple of crappers and a pissing trough. At the San Antonio Rodeo, the pisser at the coliseum (and there are many of them) has a long solid granite wall about 20 ft. long, 5 ft. tall draining into a floor trough and drain. You better not have bashful kidneys in Texas!
James' spiel we've heard before and I'd assume everyone else has too. It must be a nightly event. But everyone cheers and claps and celebrates being a "bubba" even though we all go off to white collar jobs the next day. Austin is a biggish city, say half a million, and although this dancehall is on the outskirts of town I rather doubt there are too many "real" bubbas around anymore.
Mind you, I'd not encourage anyone to loudly berate Texas or Texans in a bar like this:
Doreta: "Why are Texans so proud of the state? When you could put it in any province!"Cindy: "Including PEI?"Reg: "Could we keep it down to a dull roar and watch what we say?"
When we left the Broken Spoke we shook James' hand on the way out the door, we touched greatness, and told him we had a great time. Which we did! He says, "Y'all come back now!". And I'm sure we will.
Postscript: James White died in January of 2021 at 81 years during the COVID pandemic. We watched his funeral on TV. The Broken Spoke still carries on, even without him.
Back at the hotel. We didn't stay up all night at the Driskill hotel, but we did have a night cap with Jack and Doreta before toddling off to our beds.
Saturday, February 13
On Saturday morning, the day of the annual Luckenbach "Hug-In" (held on the closest Saturday to Valentine's Day), we checked out early enough from the Driskill and headed up Guadalupe to the University of Texas area for some shopping and lunch.
We like the university area. There are some very good record stores: Tower records right at the University and then Antones a bit further north; and live music Clubs like the Cactus Club on the UT campus at "the Guadalupe Drag", the Hole in the Wall and Antones just off campus; and restaurants: we've been to quite a few now; and shops for the girls.
Kate bought tie-dyed T-shirt, in the hippy Haight-Ashbury style, at an outdoor market on the strip. Reg got really simple silver earrings there and learned how to clip them on (Kate will have none of that pierced ear mutilation). He's had others before but always loses them. In due course he'll probably lose these. He also hung out at Tower Records while the women shopped and he spent quite a bit on music.
We had a quick breakfast at a nondescript fast food restaurant, topped up the batteries in the tape player and hit the road to Luckenbach an hour or so to the west in the "Texas Hill Country". We have a time-share condo arranged on Canyon Lake for tonight and a few days after. It was kindly provided by Bill and Sandi.
Dateline Luckenbach, 3:00 p.m. It's pretty disappointing. The first year, we tourists were the conspicuous guests. This year the tourists are in the majority. However, the campgrounds are full — Reg and Cindy have gone over to scout it out to see if any real music is happening over there.
Things have changed. The dog at the woodcutters has been stolen. Big Daddy passed away a year and a half ago. So far there aren't as many people, especially milling around the general store. The only music is at the front of the woodcutters and they're using a microphone! The Luckenbach post office sign has been replaced with a new one. Ah changes..
On the other hand some things remain the same. The Broken Spoke was the same as ever. James White, the owner, still gets up at the first break and says they're not going to hang any ferns like some fruity New York bar nor are they going to carry any fancy Pierre water. Of course, Alvin Crow wasn't quite Gary P. Nunn, but he knew how to play dance music and people still know how to dance.
Back in Luckenbach we meet Emma and Chesna. They're two ladies, our age, from near San Antonio who are camping for the weekend. We first meet them because they have decided that Jack is just the right size for hugging at the "Hug-In". Emma tells us she went to school with Doug Sahm (we get to see him with the Texas Tornados later at the San Antonio Rodeo). Her daughter is musical as well and came home from high school one day to tell her about this really neat band of young fellows — it turns out that Doug Sahm's son has a band! Although they are first attracted to Jack soon the girls and Kate are busy swapping stories, including biker stories.
The music picks up as the afternoon progresses. Soon there are several guitars, a mandolin and harmonica hanging out and playing outside by the bar. They play some of our favorites including a version of "I like My Women (a tad on the trashy side)" (by Chris Wall). As might be expected there are some women here who are in fact "a tad on the trashy side". The painted "Lady in Black" who is playing the spoons is a good case in point. They played a couple of original tunes about "looking back" that they wrote last year around the campfire. One had a theme about how things are always magical at Luckenbach which is so true.
The campground across the river, with prominent signs saying "NO CAMPING", is really popping. We meet a couple who have a miniature Doberman (ie. the dog)! We thought it was just a chihuahua that had been clipped to look like a Doberman but apparently it's a real breed. Quite a cute dog and very friendly. He really likes to be cuddled and is named Samson. Emma and Chesna thought the "no camping" signs are quite the joke too. They tell us that they're regulars and often camp here. Their kids are grown and haven't come with them this time but lots of people bring their kids.
There are about six dances a year now at Luckenbach and they've recently installed "heaters" in the dance hall. Robert Earl Keen played last fall, Billy Joe Shaver was supposed to play in January but was a no-show, Gary P. Nunn seems to play at least once a year. All of these would be quite a treat and we're sorry to have missed them. Gary will be at the Broken Spoke on the Friday after we're gone but we saw him last time we were here. Damn!
Emma and Chesna tell us you can't keep people from dancing and we plan on attending the dance tonight. They invited us back to their trailer for drinks and we might have gone had we stayed for the duration. Instead we decide about 4:30 to have a break and go to Canyon Lake to the condominium/time share Bill and Sandi have arranged for us. We find it easy enough about an hour away to the south and east from Luckenbach. Canyon Lake is on the Guadalupe River; it's a dammed lake about 5 to 10 miles long. From here we're only half an hour or so from Gruene and New Braunfels and only a bit further to San Antonio (with the Alamo, the Menger Hotel, the canals, the River Walk, and the rodeo). Finally it's about an hour or so north on IH 35 back to Austin from Canyon Lake. So it's a pretty convenient spot. It's so well placed that Kate is keen to buy property and even remains convinced of that idea the next morning when she sobers up. But we didn't look any further into buying land in Texas.
We have dinner at a nearby marina on the lake in a restaurant called "The Blue Pelican". It's one of the very few restaurants in the immediate vicinity. It's only a 5-minute drive from the condo to the marina and it's dark when we get there but you can see lots of lights around the lake from cottages, homes and condos like ours.
Doreta orders a chicken fried steak and asks them to please hold the white gravy! The rest of us have "all you can eat" catfish, pork and beef ribs, beans, corn and coleslaw on the side. Lots of good southern food. So much food that none of us ask for more! One go at it is more than enough.
Jack and Doreta are tuckered out, Cindy is too and Kate is slurring her words. So we decide to skip the dance (it would be an hours drive back to Luckenbach) and hit the sack instead. You need to travel with someone like our friend Mike who will insist you keep going until you are on your second wind. Oh well, perhaps next year.
Yeah, Stoney was a liar (a bullshitter!) ain't no doubt about it.It was just the way he told things, and you never want to doubt him.'Cause he kept you going when the road got rough,And brought you through the lean times by making it up.
.. from "Stoney" by Jerry Jeff Walker
Our condominium, and the rest here at the resort, is built on a hillside with a great view of the lake. But this requires climbing up and down long stairs from the parking lot. The stairs are no fun for any of us, especially when slugging luggage around, and Jack registers a complaint. He justifies it by Doreta being 70 years old and fails to mention that he's 74! He is promised a different condo come Monday when the weekend people are gone. We've got all our gear in now so I'm not sure that it is good idea to change rooms. What I've been doing is dropping people off at the top so you can walk down to the condo and then parking below so you can also walk down to the car. This seems to work well enough.
Sunday, February 14th, Valentine's Day.
Sunday morning we discover that, back in Canada, Myrt, Cindy's mom, is in a Toronto hospital with a blood clot and what seems like several mini strokes. (She has since recovered and is fine now.) Cindy is in tears of course and her sister is very big on the guilt trip. Nevertheless, after talking to Pat by phone and talking to us we decide to investigate flights out of San Antonio. She really needs to get home early to be with her family.
Having figured out flight times from San Antonio we tossed her bags in the car and we all bundle into town with a short stop in Gruene. Gruene is pretty convenient for us — 16 miles on the paved farm road to the IH 35 between Austin (48 miles to the north) and San Antonio (35 miles the south).
The tourists who found Luckenbach have also found Gruene. The dance hall, which was very intermittent when we were last here, now has a regular event on Friday and Saturday nights. In fact on Sunday the dance hall is open during the day. It has a old bar up front with the proverbial wooden stove casting a warm glow over tourists and locals alike. In the dance hall there are rows of tables and pool tables to the one side. It's just a frame building with a tin roof. The wood floor, furnishings, and general finish of the place is really rough. But we think that's the appeal of this place, and looking back, it's the same for Luckenbach and the Broken Spoke. "Let's get back to the basics in life" (from "Luckenbach, Texas (Back to the Basics of Love)", a tune made famous by Waylon Jennings).
We're kicking our butts because we stayed in at the condo last night. We didn't go to Luckenbach for the dance because it's too far when we could have come here and seen Leon Russell!! Why didn't we think of that I don't know. "Might have been the whiskey, it could have been the gin, might have been the three or four six packs. I don't know! Look at the shape we're in!" (from "Wasn't That a Party", by The Irish Rovers).
Kate and Cindy's favorite boutique is still there in Gruene, on the corner in the little cottage by the bridge and barbecue. But there seem to be even more gift shops now. The "General Store" is in operation again and done up very picturesquely with an row of old stools at the counter. It must have been a soda stand at one time. And there are cluttered counters, lots of bar signs in neon, and many in tin. These are collectible now and are reissued for the tourist types. Kate buys a sign, no doubt it's newly created, but has been "aged" to perfection. It has Pat written all over it and says:
"Life is too short to drink cheap beer."
We have lunch at the Grist Mill and boy is it hopping! When we were last in Gruene you could have shot a cannon through it but now it's full with people in line waiting to get in! It still has an incredible aged feel to it. It's built within the ruins of an old mill with creaky wooden floors, stairs that go up to loft areas, bare beams and cobwebs. There are lots of windows looking out over the river. In the loft, there are no walls, just post and beam construction with huge windows overlooking the ruins, outdoor seating, and the valley of the Guadalupe river.
The weather is a bit cool and, after a short wait, we are taken inside and up the stairs to the loft. It's too cool to be outside but some brave souls are. We pity the waiter who has to run up and down the stairs to service us. We had great lunches and sampled all the hot sauces. Our waiter says he can't take the hot. Reg had a couple of jalapenos with his steak and his glasses start steaming up from the sweat — ain't that Texas cooking something!
We drive in to San Antonio and stop first at the airport for Cindy. After a lengthy parlay with the agent for US Air the best strategy seems to be to leave on the 4:00 plane for Pittsburgh and from there to London arriving home by 10:30. This means Cindy will get to see Pat, who she misses of course, and she can go to Toronto on Monday. Unfortunately this means she'll miss the Texas Tornados at the San Antonio Rodeo. But it is the most convenient flight for her so we bid her goodbye and head downtown.
San Antonio has a real live downtown unlike most Texas towns where the downtown area is dead or dying. E.g., downtown Austin is quite boring apart from the nightlife on Pecan Street. San Antonio's downtown has some history that they exploit. There's the Alamo, the Menger hotel, and especially the canals and River Walk. They canals make the city into a little Venice with street-level shops at the one level and then other shops, and especially restaurants, below along the canals. That's one story below street level where the cars and buses are.
The weather is overcast and not that warm but together we four walk the canal for a bit in search of a quiet place for a drink and some shopping for the girls. We find the Riverwalk Complex (we might have the name wrong). It's a huge modern mall in the downtown just off the core with canals running to it on a small spur. You can get to it easily enough from the Menger Hotel. It's to the rear of the Marriott hotel which has two huge towers as part of this complex. There's a big convention center just across the street which helps to justify the size of these towers. The Usenix conference, which Reg attends every couple of years, was here last summer.
In any case, we have some drinks at the lobby bar of the Marriott because it's quiet and convenient to shopping and the historic downtown. We split up to go our separate ways: Kate and Doreta to shop, Reg to explore and take photos. Kate and Doreta don't make it very far into the mall and Jack wanders on his own. Reg goes for the 5-minute San Antonio tour: some quick snaps at the Menger, the Alamo, and along the River Walk. Despite the cool weather there's lots of tourists doing likewise. Perhaps Sundays are always busy. The Alamo always has people visiting no matter what day you visit. The Alamo is a National Historic Monument.
We make it to the San Antonio Rodeo after some brief stops for groceries in a futile search for more vodka. We begin to understand that there are special "liquor stores" for liquor, although every other store seems to be able to sell beer and wine.
Parking at the San Antonio Rodeo is plentiful, if a bit awkward for we tourist to handle, and we end up a good walk away from the grounds but there's lots of police to manage traffic and handle the drunks. They are very tolerant as the "bubbas" stumble to their pickup trucks and careen out of the the lots on to city streets. We head immediately to the coliseum where the Rodeo events are staged and the Texas Tornados will be playing. It's full to the rafters, probably sold out, some shows were, and we were lucky to get tickets in January by phone. We leave Cindy's ticket at the ticket booth so that someone can get in to the show for free.
People dress for the rodeo in boots, dusters, and cowboy hats. There's quite a mix with lots of Latino folk. This is a Spanish Town with a large Tex-Mex community and the band is Tex-Mex with local heroes Flaco Jimenez and Freddy Fender representing the Tex/Mexican element; Augie Meyers and Doug Sahm represent the Texas/Gringo side of things. The people in the audience likely are split amongst those who have come for the rodeo and those who have come for the music. We're here for the music.
We park Jack and Doreta at the coliseum, feed them some sausage and beer, and head out to see some of the fair. Back inside we saw some of the opening ceremonies, "God bless America" and all that, and some of the rodeo. Bronco buck riding, tackling steers and riding Brahma bulls seem a fair match. But calf roping doesn't. We enjoy the barrel racing where girls of 10 or so demonstrate how fast they can handle their horse through a cloverleaf pattern defined by the barrels.
There are lots of things to do and see at the fair but there's too little time. Reg did a brief tour of the grounds but didn't find anyone selling boots or dusters. (A duster is a long rainproof coat for buckaroos when out on the range made of a waxed canvas material, usually in tan or black.) Kate bought a cowboy shirt (a keyhole shirt) and says she saw lots of vendors selling the dusters but she didn't find any boots either. Yet again, we regret not having bought some boots in Mexico where there were tons for $25 or so. Oh well, next year.
The band comes on after 9:00 — the rodeo part is about an hour and a half long with lots of gruesome stuff. We saw a clown tossed by a bull, but he didn't appear to be any the worse for wear. Kate says she saw an ambulance take someone away, and had seen a cowboy get hurt a bit by a bull. Perhaps he was the injury requiring the ambulance. The rodeo clowns are very brave and are right there in the bull's face. Very scary!
What can I say about the Texas Tornados? The audience loved them with cheering sections for most songs. They played lots of songs we knew, e.g., "Who Were You Thinking Of (When We Were Making Love Last Night)", "Is Anybody Going to San Antone" and they were singing "Hey Baby, Que Paso?" as we ducked out early. Doug Sahm's son Sean wrote the song "Hanging On by a Thread" which is also the title for the latest album. Recall the story about Emma (who we met at Luckenbach) who went to school with Doug Sahm and her daughter who was impressed by his son Sean's high school band. The Tornados have 14 grandchildren between them. Quite the geezers eh? The sound and light show were great. Again, like the time we saw Kathy Mattea, the stage was hauled in by a tractor to the center of the dirt-based arena, flopped open and set up in minutes. The stage slowly rotated so everyone got a good view of the band. They were great and I'm sure Cindy would have loved to have seen them.
We had to park some way away from the coliseum, but made it back to the car safely and then home to Canyon Lake. A tired bunch of cow pokes had had a big day and slept well that night.
Monday February 15th, Canyon Lake
Reg is sick with a cold (or perhaps it's cedar fever or a hangover) and Doreta has stomach pains so it's a quiet day to recover.
Monday morning Kate did laundry. The two washers and dryers were at the recreation center which is 40 steps up from the condo. Since there were only two machines, you really had to stay with them, so Kate put on her suit and swam in the nearby indoor pool while doing laundry. Also, the day turned out to be the hottest of the trip. It went up to 80°F in San Antonio and it felt like summer; the paper said that it hit 92°F in Laredo — that's even higher and hotter than when we had been there!
Jack and Kate went grocery shopping for lunch and dinner stuff. Later in the day, Doreta and Kate went to the general store in Greune to pick up a few more things and then on to the "Mill Stores" in New Braunfels. However Doreta was still feeling a little peaked so they didn't shop long. While out there Kate phoned Pat to find out the latest on Cindy and Myrt and Kirk. There's no substantial news but no bad news either.
After a supper of raw vegetables and chicken noodle soup the gang watched Pole to Pole, Sherlock Holmes and Lovejoy on the A&E channel. The highlight of the evening was watching the dramatic orange sunset over Canyon Lake as thunderstorms form and roll in. The lightning made a terrific light show with both fork and sheet lightning. On one side of the condo was a rather unfriendly family with kids. On the other side, was an elderly couple with a younger middle-aged woman. They were out on their balcony and watching the lightning show while we were out on ours. The woman was taking pictures of the sunset with her long lens as was Reg with his! Dueling cameras.
Tuesday February 16th.
Tuesday dawned nice and sunny but much cooler. Kate, remembering how a hot it had been the day before, put on shorts and a T (they call them T's here not T-shirts). She and Reg went out with the car to explore the Canyon Lake area. They drove all around and saw some beautiful scenery, including following the scenic River Road along the Guadalupe River. The lakefront area and the riverfront are very built up. We suspect that in the summertime it's a lot like Grand Bend back home in Ontario. This is the off season and things are pretty quiet.
Hill country land is being sold off very cheap. We saw a place selling 5 acres, which is huge, for $10,000, which is quite cheap. We also drove through a development with a view of Canyon Lake. Lakefront land would be much more expensive and is largely developed in any case.
An early stop on our route is a little Burger/Taco shack where they make substantial "Breakfast Tacos" to go. We sat in the car and ate one each along with a cup of dish water (what they call coffee in these parts).
Along the river road the trees hang thick with a Spanish moss — it must be very humid during the summer. Kate doesn't think it's moss, she thinks it's the air plant we've seen elsewhere. The Guadalupe River runs clear green through a steep valley. The river is swift with periodic rapids that are aren't too scary. Along the road, every few miles, you see places which advertise rubber tube float trips down the stream: The song goes "You get high on the lake and float down the river" (from "Deep in the Heart of Uncertain Texas" by Rodney Crowell — Uncertain is a town in east Texas). On a hot summer day floating down the river past the trees with Spanish moss, steep banks and basking in the cool waters would be refreshing. Right now, it looks a tad too frigid.
Regarding how cool the weather was, Kate was in the post office on the way back from our touring the Guadalupe River. She was in shorts and a T, and an elderly lady in line behind her was wearing a heavy winter wool coat. The lady said to Kate (and who wouldn't), "Aren't you cold?". Kate replied, "I sure am!" The lady then explained how her neighbor had told her to dress warmly. Said neighbor was apparently 41 years old and considered the lady in question to be "old" (at least according to the other lady in the wool coat).
Back at the condo we played bridge, barbecued steaks and got a little pissed. It's a quiet day, our last full day, and we're in bed by 8:30 p.m. We slept until 8:00 the next morning; Kate woke up a few times but we've generally been going to bed early and sleeping late.
Wednesday February 17th.
It's our last day in Texas for this trip and our return home was fairly uneventful. Doreta and Jack drove us to Austin via San Marcos. It's a quick drive up the I-35 not much further than to drive south to San Antonio.
We found, or at least noted, a Subaru dealer in Austin on the I-35 for Jack to get the oil changed in their car. They've been on the road for a while now having left Canada many weeks earlier. They apparently stopped there on the return to the condo but the fellow told them they didn't need to worry about an oil change. He shook Jack's hand said "No charge, have a good day."
Our first stop in Austin was a gas station — mainly so Kate could empty her bursting bladder. But it had no whizzer! Since the pain was at the incredible stage Kate dashed across the road to a corner convenience K-store and came back reporting that the sweetest words she'd ever heard were, "Sure, it's right there at the back."
Our goal was to find a couple of records that Pat had heard about in material that Cindy had brought back with her. We came off the freeway around 32nd Street north of the university and we're heading back south to the university area and Tower Records in particular. At Antone's record store we found a tape of one artist and they suggested we go to Maniac Music at 38th and I-35. Antone's is a big blues store (and label and music club across the street) so there's not much country in their collection. Tower Records is a big chain across the country and the store at the University is really great with a huge selection where you can easily spend hours exploring country stuff before even discovering that they have a gigantic popular music section.
We had a pretty good Chinese buffet for lunch near Antone's, although Doreta and Kate found some stuff to be too hot. We browse the hippie / Grateful Dead gift shop and then headed over to Maniac Music. Kate found some of what Pat was after there and Reg asked about Billy Joe Shaver. They had LP's in excellent shape from the late 80's at $15 to $25 and even one he had never seen before. Reg hopes they're reissued soon on CD as he didn't buy either of them. Sometime after we returned to London he found a brand new Billy Joe Shaver LP at just five bucks.
Jack and Doreta drop us at the airport and head back to continue their vacation at Canyon Lake. We assume they're still "Lost in Austin" and will send out a search party if they are not in London by March 1. (They arrived later in London on time and in great spirits.)
We discover that our plane is delayed an hour and poop around the Austin airport. Apparently the snow in the north has delayed the flights from Pittsburgh. We also discover how Cindy's plane leaving San Antonio at 4:00 relates to ours leaving Austin at 2:20. Ours goes back to San Antonio for a 4:00 departure and from there on to Pittsburgh! We knew there was a stop some place but had thought it would have been a stop in Dallas. So we could have more easily flown from San Antonio, which is closer to the Canyon Lake condo, and that would have been a direct flight. We guess there's one airplane in the US Air fleet that flies back and forth between Pittsburgh, San Antonio and Austin.
The flight has a choice of chicken salad sandwich or you can have NADA for lunch!
Although delayed we make it to Pittsburgh in plenty of time to wander from our landing gate to the connecting flight. This was an unbelievably long wander that included a subway ride! But we made it fine, got to our connection and arrived home to snow, wind, ice, snow & wind, wind & ice, snow & wind & more ice. What a shock to the senses!
We're home in London after a rather full vacation where we've seen quite a bit. We promise each other that we'll be back to Texas for another winter time vacation sometime in the near future to enjoy the food, the music and the weather .. and again escape our cold, dreary winters!
The original notes, composed by Cindy, Kate & Reg, were transcribed by Reg during the COVID restrictions of January of 2022.
