Of Cartoonists, Alligators, And Ravenous Minnows





Despite yesterday’s much needed rain, the Texas Hill Country continues to be in the clutches of a fairly severe drought. As I observed during our last severe drought in 2009, when the waters of Lake Travis recede, all kinds of strange things come to the surface (Lake Travis Time Machine). This year, however, in addition to the usual collection of old tires, dated beer bottles, and lost anchors, there was something quite unusual which made its appearance -- a dead alligator.

A fisherman made the discovery last Tuesday somewhere around Emerald Point. The Lower Colorado River Authority has apparently confirmed it was, in fact, an alligator. It appears that the unfortunate creature was hit by the propeller of boat engine.



TPWD: American Alligators in Texas

Alligator sightings this far west into Texas are extremely rare, yet, in a report on the “Distribution of American Alligators in Texas,” prepared by the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department (TPWD) in 2002, while Travis Country was portrayed as being outside the “general range” for alligators, it was included in a so-called “pocket habitat” range (Alligators). In this range, the TPWD asserted, small populations of alligators “may represent remnant populations from a former range or from released American alligators.”

The report seems to verify what local officials believe to be the case about the dead alligator found last week in Travis County. That being, that the alligator was probably released into the lake by someone. When this story came to light, a friend of mine reminded me about the last time there was a commotion about alligators in Lake Travis.

Back in the 1970’s, a young University of Texas student wrote an article in a campus magazine which claimed that another student had released hundreds of small alligators into Lake Travis. This caused quite a stir around the lake community, and the young author finally admitted it was a spoof when he was besieged with concerns from anxious property owners and federal agents. That type of creativity eventually brought that young student fame as a cartoonist. He was, in fact, Berkeley Breathed, who went on to create the popular newspaper cartoon, Bloom County.

Whether or not there are additional alligators in Lake Travis is certainly not going to stop me from taking my traditional evening swim in the lake. In my opinion, there are other things in the lake which are far more troublesome, like those pesky little minnows that like to nibble on my arms and back when I’m in the water. I personally think those ravenous little nibbling fish should be the main topic of discussion around the lake instead of all the fretting about a single stray alligator with its big razor-sharp teeth.

“Will Ride Train For Grilled Cheese”

On December 13, 2009, I published a less than flattering article about Austin’s attempt to get its light rail commuter train up and running (MetroRail). Among other things, I pointed out that both the “Austin Rail Project and the Transcontinental Railroad took six years to complete. The Transcontinental Railroad was built from scratch and covered over a thousand miles. The Austin project used an existing rail line and covered a little more than thirty miles. The Transcontinental Railroad spanned the Great Plains and mountain ranges. The Austin Rail Project, well, to be kind, did not.” Finally, after experiencing one delay after another, Capital MetroRail finally began service in March of 2010.

Despite the fact that I really like trains, and was looking forward to riding MetroRail once it started service, for one reason or another it took me over a year to decide to climb aboard, but last week, I did just that. And, I must tell you, I enjoyed the experience.

The rail system essentially runs from Austin’s Convention Center downtown north to Leander, a distance of some 30 miles. There are a total of nine stations along the way at which passengers can purchase tickets and get on or off the train. I decided to head downtown from the Lakeline Station, one stop south of Leander. The Lakeline Station had ample parking in its Park & Ride Lot, and the ticket vending machines were easy to use, even to a first-time rider like me. For $5.50, I purchased a MetroPlus Day Pass, which gave me a day’s access to the rail, as well as the bus rail connectors located at the various stations along the route. That’s not a bad price, considering the cost of a gallon of gas is currently between $3.50 and $4.00. Oddly, there is no gate or turnstile to pass through and nobody checks to see if you’ve purchased a ticket. With such an “honor system” in place, I wonder how many people just hop on board for a free ride. Perhaps they have random checks, but there was no evidence of it on the day I took a ride.

Capital MetroRail passed the most important test in my mind when the train arrived exactly on time. And, once it arrived, it didn’t stay long. Based on my experience, a word to the wise is probably in order. Arrive on time for this train or you’ll find yourself without a ride.

I purposely chose a schedule which avoided the so-called rush hour, so I could have a more relaxing ride. Not that the rush hour experience on this train would be anything like in New York or Tokyo, as this is Austin, and things are more than a little laid back down here. But, everything is relative I suppose, and I wanted to be as relaxed as I could possibly be to fully enjoy the experience.

Inside, the cars are squeaky clean, air-conditioned, and have large roomy cloth seats. There is plenty of overhead storage space, and the over-sized windows afford great views. There is a small section in each car with fold down tables. Apparently, this section was designed for people who, unlike me, actually want to get some work done and weren’t just along for the ride. Free, on-board Wi-Fi is available, and the cars accommodate bicycles.

The train was nearly deserted when I came aboard at the Lakeline Station, but with each subsequent stop, it became increasingly more active with people. As the speaker announced the arrival at each station in both English and Spanish, young professionals with laptops, musicians carrying guitars, young mothers with small children, and seniors all shuffled on and off the train. Initially, the rail line from Lakeline Station is mostly in the country. Every once in a while, the train would pass by some freight cars parked on side tracks. Given the fact that MetroRail shares the same track that the freight trains utilize, I was surprised by how smooth the ride was.

 As the train left Howard Station, the country scenery began to disappear and was replaced by urban views. Once past Kramer Station, it seemed as though we were passing right through the middle of people’s back yards. Upon arriving at MLK Jr. Station I got off and jumped on a connector bus, which was already waiting in the parking lot, and rode it to the Texas State Capitol Building. If you haven’t visited the place, it’s well worth a visit. Unlike most state capitol buildings around the country, this one is actually quite popular as a tourist destination, but then again, this is Texas!

The reason for my visit to the building had nothing to do with me playing tourist or having some important political matters to discuss with state legislators. Rather, the purpose of my visit was strictly about food. Simply stated, the cafeteria in the capitol building serves up the best grilled cheese sandwiches around Austin, and you can wash it down with an ice cold bottle of Dublin Dr. Pepper. It really doesn’t get any better than that. And so, I stood in line, got my sandwich and drink, and had a great lunch at about 10:30 in the morning. Now then, I know what you’re thinking. Did this guy really drive from his home to a train station, get on a train and ride downtown, and then take a bus to the capitol building for a grilled cheese sandwich? Yes, I did just that, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

My “official business” at the capitol building having concluded, it was now time to find my way back home. I walked to the nearest rail connector bus stop, and took the bus to the Convention Center Station, where I boarded the train and headed back to Lakeline Station where I had parked my car. All in all, my little trip was a satisfying experience. And, as you can see, I’m very easily amused.

As for now, Capital MetroRail has only the one line, and does not run on weekends or in the evenings. There are discussions underway about possibly rectifying these drawbacks, but politics and money will ultimately decide whether anything is ever done. In the meantime, those who would like to use the rail at times other than normal weekday business hours are out of luck. Nevertheless, I’m really impressed with the way MetroRail has worked out.

My day on the train would have been perfect had it not been for one out of control grandmother on the ride back. Boarding the train downtown with her two small grandchildren, and, presumably her grown daughter, she literally never stopped talking the entire time. She was loud, obnoxious, and had an opinion on everything. She had three conversations going at once, and, if she didn’t know something, she would call someone on the phone to get the answer. She kept fussing at her grandchildren when, in fact, she just needed to close her mouth and relax. I had to chuckle when she told them, “This is the last time Grandma goes on a train ride.” I’m quite sure that her grandchildren were delighted to hear her say that, and, by the way, so was I.

A Little Something Extra For The Texas Hill Country

The counties of the Texas Hill Country are about as different from the swamp parishes of Louisiana as anything could possibly be. While the climate of southern Louisiana is hot and rainy, the climate of the hill country of Texas is also hot, but drier. Some swamp parishes of Louisiana are below sea level, while the counties of central Texas are many hundreds of feet above the sea. The parishes of southern Louisiana are historically French in origin. On the other hand, the most recent historical and cultural origins of the hill country of Texas are mostly Spanish, Mexican, and German.

There are other differences as well. The swamps of Louisiana have alligators. The hills of Texas have scorpions. Cordgrass is native to Louisiana, while prickly pear cactus is native to Texas. Traditional music in southern Louisiana consists of jazz, blues, and zydeco. Traditional music in the hill country is a mix of German, Tejano, regional Mexican, country, and, of course, the diverse music found in and around Austin. The traditional foods are different as well. Louisiana food includes boudin, fried oysters, and gumbo while Texas food includes beef brisket, chicken-fried steak, and tacos.

However, Seth Hudson, owner of Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen in Jonestown, Texas, has it about right. He says it best, when he correctly points out, that despite the differences, the swamps of Louisiana and the hills of Texas do have something in common, and that, he says, is “water.” Hudson says that the hill country lakes remind him of Louisiana. And this explains how a restaurant serving excellent Louisiana cuisine ended up in a very small town in the Texas Hill Country.

Seth Hudson is originally from Louisiana and moved here with his father, but like many people who visit hill country, he “fell in love with Austin,” and ended up staying. But just because he likes his new home in Texas, doesn’t mean he forgot about Louisiana, or, the importance of both his family and the traditional food of his youth.  As a result, Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen on the north shore of Lake Travis is a product of both.

Seth is a friendly and engaging man, who is proud of the fact that he creates most everything from scratch. Initially, he opened a small deli in Jonestown. But after only 9 months, the positive response he received caused him to look for larger quarters. He liked Jonestown, so he quickly located a place right across the road next to the Lone Star Bar, but it needed work. Seth and his family completely gutted the existing building, and personally rebuilt the space. Concerned about the environment, and the preservation of natural resources, Seth sold an old automobile to raise money for the recycled wood he wanted to use in the construction. The large wood support beams, for example, are over 100 years old.

About 3 months ago, when the building was completed, Seth Hudson and his Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen welcomed customers to the new location. The construction efforts of Seth and his family were a success. The atmosphere is cozy and laid-back, with ceiling fans swirling gently overhead to tamp down the Texas heat. In short, it is a perfect spot to enjoy some Louisiana cooking.

In Seth Hudson’s mind, building something from scratch neither begins nor ends with a construction site. Like the building in which he serves his food, he creates his menu offerings in much the same way, from the ground up. His crawfish are brought in fresh from Louisiana, and his oysters are from Aransas Bay on the gulf coast of Texas. Many of his menu creations are homemade, including the sausage. And, he uses gluten-free corn meal. While the food offerings are not fancy, the menu at Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen is both Louisiana focused and very delicious.

Seth Hudson

The menu has all the items you would normally expect from a restaurant serving up fine Louisiana cuisine, including, gumbo, etouffee, boudin, andouille, catfish, shrimp, Po’ Boy sandwiches, and fresh and fried oysters. But, Seth Hudson has a little secret. In the back, between the building and the parking lot, there is a covered barbecue pit, where he smokes turkey breast, pork loin, and sausages over a fire fueled by pecan wood. He also has another little secret; his sister is the head chef.

My problem, when visiting restaurants serving up Louisiana cooking, is always deciding what to order, because, I want it all. I always wish that one of these places would come up with a “sampler,” so I could satisfy all my Cajun and Creole cravings on a single plate. But, in lieu of that dream, I usually go with the Po’ Boy, at least during lunch, and I normally order it with either shrimp or oysters packed inside.

On the day I visited Seth’s place, I went with the shrimp, and I was delighted, because there were a lot of shrimp, and each and every one of them was delicious. The fried shrimp on my sandwich were hot, lightly breaded, and not greasy. Other diners that day, including my wife and son, were enjoying another selection, the “Wild Card Basket,” where you choose your meat, and add a side of fries or slaw. Specials are also available, and, on the day we visited, the special was boiled crawfish, with potato and corn. And, if you so desire, you can enjoy a glass of fine wine or beer with your meal. It was all very good, but, my family, including myself, were too stuffed after our meal to try any of the bread pudding or pecan pie for dessert.

In Louisiana, they have a special word for a small unexpected gift, or a little something extra a merchant might give to a customer, and that word is “lagniappe."  The swamp parishes of Louisiana are a long way away from the hills of Texas, but that doesn’t stop Seth Hudson and his family from giving a lagniappe every single day to the citizens of Jonestown and the surrounding area, and that gift is Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen.



A Few Things About The Old West You May Not Know

Mention the Old West, and most people have certain images which come to mind. Among the most popular images are those of cowboys, horses, cattle rustlers, lawmen, outlaws, gunfights, deserts, mining camps, gold, prairies, and mountains. And while many of these images are historically accurate, they have also been slightly twisted by Hollywood movies. Some images, however, are more movies than reality. Take, for example, a few other images which conjure up the Old West, those being whiskey, saloons, and poker. These images are accurate too, but probably not in the way most people think. And, there is no doubt that the public perception with regard to these images is far more driven by celluloid than the truth.

In the movies we’re used to seeing a man push open the swinging doors of an ornately decorated and large clean saloon, belly up to the bar, and order a whiskey. As someone plays a piano in the corner, with dancing girls swirling around, the bartender takes out a clean bottle of bourbon, and fills a shot glass which is quickly consumed. The man then throws down a gold coin, and takes his bottle to one of the many gaming tables, and gets involved in a game of poker. The poker game then ends in a shootout, with dead bodies strewn about the floor. We’ve watched this scene a hundred times, if we’ve seen it once. The problem is that it’s not always an accurate or typical portrayal of the way it really was, so let me point out a few things about the Old West you may not know.

Until the Old West got a little more sophisticated in the late 1800’s, due primarily to the great wealth created by railroads, mining camps, and, cattle towns, most saloons were not large, not very ornate, nor were they very tidy. Floors were often covered with sawdust, which absorbed everything from tobacco juice, blood, beer, and liquor, as well as holding down other displeasing odors associated with saloons of the time period. Not the least of these odors was caused by vomit, deposited on the floor after drunken patrons of the saloon “aired their paunches.” Likewise, instead of a jingling piano, it was probably just as common to see a barber chair in the corner of a saloon. The saloon’s management, by providing barber services, encouraged self-professed religious men with a respectable cover story of why they’d been seen entering a saloon. And, after a haircut and shave, if these men just happened to find themselves having a few drinks at the bar, no one would be the wiser.

The saloon district in Austin, Texas was a place called “Guy Town.” And, the saloons in Guy Town were typical of those found in any city of similar size in the West during the mid to late 1800’s. One difference, perhaps, was that the saloons in Austin catered to some very influential clientele, given the fact that the Texas State Capitol was located in the city. State legislators, and other government officials, joined the common folk in enjoying the whiskey, woman, music, and gambling the saloons in Guy Town offered.

Dropping a coin or two on the bar is another lasting image of the Old West, but drinks in the saloons were often purchased with gold dust instead of coins. This allowed the enterprising bartender to steal from the saloon’s owners by using various techniques to keep a little gold dust for himself. One such technique involved using his head, so to speak. Before starting his shift, the unscrupulous bartender would rub grease or liniment in his hair. After taking the gold dust in payment, there would always be a little of it left on his fingers and beneath his finger nails. The bartender would then nonchalantly rub his hand through his sticky hair. Later he would wash the gold from his hair, and by doing so, supplement his income nicely.

The image of men sitting around a table playing poker is nearly synonymous with the Old West. But most saloons of the time period, especially in the early years, were relatively small, and only had room for a couple of gaming tables. Contrary to popular belief, poker, while played, was not the most popular game of the time period, and, in fact, prior to the early 1870’s, was rarely played at all. There was another card game which was far more popular, and because it has vanished from the gambling scene so completely, relatively few people today, including gamblers, have ever heard of it. Faro was the name of the game, and those who played were called “punters.” The game of faro was played on a table, and required special equipment which facilitated the game. As such, faro dealers made their money by traveling around the West with their gambling equipment, and setting up shop wherever they could. These dealers often rented space on a saloon floor, and, in return, gave a percentage of their winnings to the owner of the saloon. Unlike a poker game, in which each person playing banked their own game, and either won or lost according to the extent of their “investment,” in the game of faro, the game needed a financial backer, and the dealer himself staked his personal fortune as the faro bank. Punters playing faro were said to be “bucking the tiger,” and, because the game was easy to play, and, when played fairly, provided nearly the same odds to both the dealers and players, it was extremely popular. Because these even odds meant a lower take for the saloon, many dealers began cheating, and faro soon fell into disrepute.

Many famous names of the Old West were faro dealers at one time or another, including Wyatt Earp, "Doc" Holliday, and Bat Masterson. In the Texas Hill Country, Austin’s own Ben Thompson owned several gaming concessions around the city, including the faro operation directly above the well-known Iron Front Saloon, which was located on the corner of Sixth and Congress. Ben Thompson, in addition to being a gambler and saloon owner, was a prolific killer, gunfighter, and, at one time, held the position of City Marshal of Austin. Thompson had honed his faro skills in various places around the West, including Abilene, Kansas, and he made a lot of money running faro games in his Austin gambling establishments.

Another popular misconception of the Old West involves whiskey. As mentioned earlier, movies have often portrayed bartenders pulling clean bottles filled with bourbon out from behind the bar. While it is true, that good bourbon was available throughout the West at certain times and in certain places, it is truer still that the whiskey often served was some very bad stuff indeed. Called “Tarantula Juice,” “Coffin Varnish,” and “Stagger Soup,” the concoctions sold as whiskey were often made with cheap raw watered-down alcohol, and colored to look like whiskey with whatever was locally available, including, old shoes, tobacco, molasses, or burnt sugar. These whiskies were frequently given an extra “kick” by adding red peppers or, extra “flavor” by adding other things, like snake heads, which tainted the liquid. Now you understand what the cowboys, as portrayed in the movies, meant when they asked the bartender for a bottle of “your best whiskey.” They were asking for a bottle of real whiskey distilled in a place somewhere in the Eastern United States, like Kentucky, or, Pennsylvania.

It is interesting to note that the best whiskey from out East, in a lot of saloons, meant rye whiskey, not bourbon. Rye was just as popular, if not more popular, as bourbon in those days. The popularity of rye whiskey has declined significantly since the days of the Old West, but unlike the game of faro, it never disappeared entirely, except, perhaps, during prohibition. And, unlike faro, there has been a comeback of late in the enjoyment of rye whiskey, with some new brands appearing on the shelves of liquor stores. One brand, however, which was around back in the West, is still being sold today, and that brand is Old Overholt. The rye whiskies produced by the Overholt Family go back to around 1810, and were widely available in the West. In fact, Old Overholt was reputably the favorite whiskey of the famous gambler and gunman, “Doc” Holliday, who was no slouch when it came to appreciating the finer things in life, including a good whiskey.

Hollywood has portrayed violent confrontations with armed cowboys in saloons in hundreds of movies over the years. Usually, following an argument over a card game, the guns come out, and within a few seconds, men lay dead on a saloon floor, or stumble out into the street to die. There were, in fact, many shootings which actually did take place in saloons and which cost the lives of many men, including, some well-known characters from the Old West. “Wild Bill” Hickok, Morgan Earp, and Warren Earp, were just a few of the famous men who died from gunplay in saloons. Several legendary Texans also died by gunfire in saloons. Ben Thompson and John King Fisher were both ambushed and killed in San Antonio’s Vaudeville Theatre and Saloon in March of 1884, and the notorious killer, John Wesley Hardin, was murdered in El Paso’s Acme Saloon in 1895.

Despite the reality that guns were indeed drawn and fired in Old West saloons, there is another reality which is seldom portrayed in the movies. Many towns, while not prohibiting weapons outright, did require guns be checked in with the law, behind the bar in a saloon, or, perhaps at a hotel or rooming house. But the requirement to check weapons did not do away with the gun violence entirely, as some men merely chose to conceal their weapons. For example, the famous outlaw, Sam Bass, was shot up and died in Round Rock, a town on the eastern edge of the Texas Hill Country, after refusing to surrender his concealed pistol in a general store.  The local gun laws throughout the West did, however, help to hold down the number of shootings in saloons, where the whiskey flowed freely, and heated arguments over gambling and women were commonplace.

History, as we perceive it, is an interesting thing, because what we believe to be true about history probably isn’t, since the fact and the fiction have become so intertwined. Nowhere is this more true than when observing the popular public perception of the Old West. In the end, the perception is what it is, and will be what it will be, but, hopefully, you’ve learned a few things you may not have known before about this fascinating period of American history.

Remembering The Texas Hill Country’s Favorite Son

Thirty-eight years ago yesterday, on January 22, 1973, Lyndon Baines Johnson, suffered a heart attack and died at his ranch in the Texas Hill Country. His life is so intertwined with his beloved Hill Country that it is impossible to consider his life, his accomplishments, and his failures, without understanding the impact the hill country had upon him. During his lifetime, Johnson left his historical mark on the United States, and the world, but to a very real extent, he never really left the hill country, nor, did the things he experienced in the hill country, ever leave him. As a result, he enjoyed great political triumphs, but, also, tragedy and failure.

Born along the banks of the Pedernales River, Johnson rose from a poor and humble beginning, to become one of the most powerful men in American politics, first as a United States Senator, then Senate Majority Leader, later Vice-President, and finally, as President of the United States. Growing up in the hill country, he learned to respect both the land, and its people. He once said, that the Texas Hill Country was a place “where they know when you’re sick and they care when you die.” The people Johnson was referring to knew and cared, because the hill country can be a difficult place to live. The weather is temperamental, and vacillates between bringing extreme drought and a widespread flooding. The people who have historically lived in the hill country have been a tough lot, learning how to adapt and prosper in the difficult environment, despite many hardships. They’ve always believed that with the proper focus, hard work, and cooperation with their neighbors, there was no problem which could not be solved. This belief was fundamental to the person Lyndon Johnson became as an adult, and how he viewed the entire world for most of the rest of his life.

As Johnson’s career progressed, he used his increasing political power to solve real problems, and this only reinforced his view, that all problems, given the right attention, could be resolved. Early in his career, Johnson was responsible for bringing both electricity and flood control to the hill country, and in so doing, eliminated a lot of suffering among his constituents. Later, as President, he used his strong personality and political power to get legislation passed which became the foundation of his “Great Society.” Most notably, among the many pieces of legislation, was the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Many of the laws Johnson spearheaded as President are still controversial today among some people, but they remain an important part of who we are. The implementation of the Great Society emanates from what Johnson learned in the hill country. That being that any problem can be solved, despite its complexity, through personal attention, hard work, and cooperation with one’s neighbors, in this case, the U.S. Congress. The Great Society was Johnson’s greatest political success, and has left a lasting positive impression on the United States.

Unfortunately, the benefits of the Great Society are often forgotten, especially among many members of my generation, because of the war in Vietnam. The tragedy of Vietnam was perpetuated, in large part, because Johnson failed to understand that the things he learned in the hill country about problem solving, did not work with respect to Vietnam. Johnson found out, albeit painfully, that giving his personal attention, and micromanagement to domestic legislation, was a far different matter than micromanaging a foreign war. When Johnson personally selected bombing targets in Vietnam, he deprived his commanders on the ground of their natural prerogative to do so. As a result, with the war being managed by Washington, a schism developed between those who were fighting the war in Vietnam, and those who were controlling it. Likewise, the United States had few military allies, and little international support during the war, so, cooperation with any “neighbors” to help Johnson “win” the war was never a real possibility.

As the war dragged on, Johnson only applied more of what he had learned about problem solving during his youth, and, as a result, the dying was prolonged and the United States was torn apart by civil unrest. The Vietnam War became Johnson’s greatest tragedy, and his biggest failure. Thirty-eight years ago, on this very day, January 23, 1973, a peace agreement was announced, but it came one day too late for Johnson, who had died the previous day.

Johnson once said, “I hope it may be said a hundred years from now, that by working together we helped to make our country more just, more just for all its people, as well as to insure and guarantee the blessings of liberty for all of our posterity. That is what I hope. But I believe that at least it will be said that we tried.”

The places where Lyndon Johnson was born, first attended school, learned about life, implemented historic legislation, directed the war, died, and is buried are all within walking distance of one other on a relatively small strip of land along the banks of the hill country’s Pedernales River. Whatever anyone thinks of what he did, or, how he did it, there is no denying that he left his mark on the world, and also, that he is without a doubt, the Texas Hill Country’s favorite son.

With Respect To Mexican Food, I’m Fickle

First of all, I'm in love with Mexican food, but I’m fickle. The problem isn’t that I like it but don’t want to eat it all that often. I’d eat it every day if it was possible and practicable for me to do so. Also, I’m not one of those who like some of it, but not all of it. I like it all. My problem is that I can’t decide which Mexican restaurant in the Texas Hill Country I like best. Well, that’s not true. I can decide, and I do decide, but I change my mind nearly every day. That’s where my fickleness with respect to Mexican food comes into play. It’s not exactly true, but it seems that the “best” Mexican restaurant for me nearly always seems to be the last one I visited.

Given its relatively close proximity to Mexico, and the important influence that Mexican-Americans play in the region, the fact is that there are really no disappointing Mexican restaurants in the hill country. On the contrary, and, in my opinion, they are all very authentic, and all very good. Of course, I’m not Mexican-American, so my credibility to judge what authentic Mexican food is or isn’t may be questioned, but I do the best I can. Given the sheer number of places serving up Mexican food, it would be impossible to for me to actually visit them all, let alone do any kind of subjective or objective rating. So, I won’t try, and neither should you. You’ll just have to take my word for which one is best, and, continue to take my word for which one is best in the future. But, as I’ve already warned you, I change my mind from time to time. We’ll, that is not exactly true either. I change my mind very frequently.

My latest favorite place has been hiding from me in plain sight for years, and is just over in Leander, Texas. As in the past, my wife had to steer me away from my natural inclination to return to the haunts of previous “best” places, and try something new. Quite some time ago, a friend of my wife had told her about this great Mexican restaurant in Leander, but my wife didn’t remember what the name of the place was, or, just where it was located in Leander. That part didn’t bother me too much, because Leander isn’t all that big, and I’m fairly good with finding my way around places. And, like most men, I pride myself in doing it without asking anyone for directions, and I can’t be bothered with GPS devices.

Later, after driving around Leander for a half hour or so, and, after heeding my wife’s advice, I pulled the vehicle over and asked someone for directions to a Mexican restaurant whose name I didn’t know. Apparently, everyone in the hill country knows about this place but me, because even after giving a half-assed and extremely vague description of it, I got clear directions, and we quickly found the place. In my defense, I’m quite sure that within another 45 minutes, I would have located it without needing the assistance of others. We might not have been there in time for lunch, but we surely would have arrived for dinner. And, let me remind you that I’m only writing here about Mexican food, not what meal of the day I’d be eating it.

The restaurant at the end of our search, or as Texans say, at the end of our trail, is a place called Jardin Del Rey. Conveniently located (I can say that now that I found it) on Highway 183 in Leander, right by the Post Office (see, I’ve done all the hard work for you), it sits back off the road a bit, but is clearly marked by a huge multi-colored road sign right on the highway which clearly states, “Jardin Del Rey Mexican Restaurant.” I can’t believe I missed it after driving by it 3 or 4 times. I must have been distracted by my wife telling me to stop somewhere and ask for directions. Yes, I’m quite sure that was the issue now that I’ve had time to reflect upon it all.

Jardin Del Rey, is impressive, and at least for now, is clearly my favorite. Starting with lots of parking in the front , back, and side of the building, there is no doubt that friendly, prompt, and courteous service dictates the whole experience from the time you pull off the highway coming in until the time you pull onto the highway going back out.

The interior of the restaurant was clean, colorful, and festive, with a lot of booths. Booths seem to be an important seating choice in all restaurants these days. It’s a little strange when you think about it. People want to go out and eat among others, in a public place, but would prefer a booth where they are somewhat hidden and separated from the other people eating there, but, I’m getting a little bit off target.

After requesting our booth, we were quickly seated. Immediately thereafter, warm chips and salsa were placed in front of us. The salsa was spicier than at most places, but not overly so, and it was freshened with the taste of fresh chopped cilantro. During the course of our meal, my wife and I went through two servings of chips and salsa, which should tell you that we liked it quite a bit. Normally we hold back on a second serving, so as to have enough room for the meal. But on this occasion, we made an exception to our “hold back” rule and made that second round of chips and salsa disappear in a hurry.

Jardin Del Rey’s menu offers a lot of food choices, and those choices are inexpensive. There are breakfast plates, lunch specials, and a wide selection of appetizers, enchiladas, platters, plates, caldos y ensaladas, and especialidades. As with most Mexican restaurants, many side orders are available at Jardin Del Rey, and include Mexican rice, Chile con queso, frijoles charros, refried beans, as well as other selections.

Passing up on any appetizers, we ordered our lunch while munching on the chips and salsa. My wife ordered the Soft Taco Mexican Plate, and went with the beef tacos instead of the chicken. They were served with pico de gallo, sour cream, and rice and beans. I opted for the Chile Rellano, which is always a gamble depending upon the restaurant where they are served. In a lot of places around the rest of the country, this food order would have resulted in a small, shriveled, and miserly stuffed Chile pepper being served up. Not so at Jardin Del Rey, where I got an unbelievably large Poblano pepper with the stem still attached, generously stuffed with beef and cheese, and served with guacamole, pico de gallo, rice and beans, and an order of soft warm tortillas. I have to tell you, if you like cheese like I do, you really need to visit this place. The cheese was hot and melted, and literally poured out of the pepper along with the beef when I cut into it with my fork. And, to top it all off, the pepper was covered with a liberal amount of cheese, and salsa.

With the great food and outstanding service at Jardin Del Rey’s in Leander, Texas, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is the best Mexican restaurant in the Texas Hill Country. Well, at least it is until the next time I head out in search of Mexican food.

An Annual Austin Tradition: Splashing In The New Year At Barton Springs

One year ago on this very day, I posted a blog entitled, “Splashing In The New Year.” The posting was met with such a complete silence and incredible resounding indifference, that I decided to press my luck, and once again write about the same topic. Some people never learn (that would be me) I guess, but I figure that 2011 has to be better than 2010? If you don’t agree with that statement, you need to stop reading blogs altogether, including mine, and head down to your local community college to take a course on current events, or, whatever else you want to study.

Every year, on New Year’s Day, the Save Our Springs Alliance, in Austin, Texas, hosts the annual Polar Bear Splash at Barton Springs in Zilker Park. From quite early in the morning until 2 in the afternoon, Alliance members greet the “Polar Bears,” who faithfully migrate to Barton Springs from all over the Texas Hill Country, to splash around in the spring’s ever constant 68 degree temperature. Last year I had the distinct honor and high privilege of just being an observer and photographer, but this year, my sweet, considerate, and loving wife got my lazy butt out of a warm bed and insisted I throw on a pair of “Hawaii” swim trunks and accompany her to Barton Springs at some ungodly hour of the morning.

The Save Our Springs Alliance, the host of the “Splash,” is dedicated to protecting the hill country’s Edward’s Aquifer, as well as related waterways, and the natural and cultural heritage of the hill country, including Barton Springs. It’s a noble and worthwhile goal, which I fully support, and the organization makes the New Year’s Day Polar Bear Splash a lot of fun. People of all ages dress up in all sorts of ridiculous outfits and bathing attire to jump in the springs, including me, who stripped off a silly Hawaiian shirt, to expose an even sillier mismatched Hawaiian bathing suit, before I took the plunge. Others had pirate masks on, wore Hawaiian hula skirts, or tiaras with the words “Happy New Year,” emblazoned on the front. Like every year it seems, the people bundled up in jackets and taking photographs vastly outnumbered the swimmers. One tradition for those who actually venture out into the springs is that you don’t say “Happy New Year” to anyone until you actually dip your head beneath the cold water. To be honest with you, I can’t remember whether I did or didn’t, but my wife was certainly wishing every living thing that she swam by “Happy New Year,” including fish, turtles, and whatever that green stuff is that grows in the springs.

Another element of the annual event is for the visiting swimmers, or should I say, “Polar Bears,” to bring food to share with everyone. Perhaps I’m mistaken, but a lot of people I saw in the chow line never made it down to the springs for a dip. I can understand it I guess, why would anyone forgo another bratwurst covered with mustard for the opportunity to jump into some icy water?

Outside the springs, gawkers looked down at the swimmers, and the S.O.S. Alliance provided free coffee, sold commemorative shirts, and dispensed literature supporting its cause. Of course the event being in Austin, with that “Keep Austin Weird” philosophy, attracted a few others, who it seemed, had a different point of view. But, that did not stop the small children from having fun riding the small gauge “Zilker Zephyr” train around Zilker Park. I love trains, and have ridden this train before. After my swim, I would have liked to ride it again, but I couldn’t bring myself to buy a ticket, and deprive some small innocent child of the opportunity for a ride. But, I must admit, the thought did cross my mind, and not just once, but several times.

Given all the silly costumes I saw today, nothing was sillier than someone who wasn’t trying to be silly at all. A young bearded version of Ringo Starr, wearing those expensive “get darker as the sun gets brighter” sunglasses, walked around the pool for hours cloaked in an expensive white bathrobe, with a white towel slung over his shoulder talking on his cell phone. Perhaps he finally did, but I never saw him get into the water. My recommendation for his New Year resolution is quite simple, try to spend at least one hour a day without your cell phone smashed against your ear.

As in the past, I had a lot of fun today, and I’ll miss the event until it arrives again exactly one year from now. It’s for a good cause, and, hopefully someone from the S.O.S Alliance, or, quite frankly anyone else will actually acknowledge reading the posting about the “Splash” this year. “Green” is the new buzz-word apparently, but in my experience, “Old" and "West,” are tried and true buzz-words, and words which people actually like reading about.

Guy Town

Between 1870 and 1913, roughly the years which now represent the Old West, there was a certain section of Austin, Texas which was referred to as “Guy Town.” Its southern edge ran along the old banks of the Colorado River northward to what is now 4th or 5th Street, and ran east to west from Congress Avenue to Guadalupe. The old city thought of the area as its First Ward, but folks at the time merely called it the “jungles,” or just plain “Guy Town.” If people called the neighborhood by different names, they all knew what went on there. It was, in fact, Austin’s red-light district.

The community was populated with saloons, gambling houses, dance halls, and of course, brothels, where the “ladies of the evening,” of several different ethnic groups, went about their work. To be sure, the world’s oldest profession was alive and well in Austin in those days, buoyed by the steady influx of rural workers who came into town from the farms and cattle ranches to “kick up their heels.” But, the farm boys and young ranch hands weren’t the only ones sowing their wild oats. Austin was then, and is now, where the Texas State Capitol is located. When the state legislature was in session, Austin became a destination point for office seekers, businessmen, and others seeking favors or special privileges from the elected officials of Texas. Despite the illegality of it all, some legislators, lawyers, and businessmen, seemed to find their way to Guy Town in the evenings to compete for the affections of the ladies. It is not known what the regular patrons thought - those being the ranch hands, farm boys, soldiers, laborers, and drifters - about this additional competition, but it probably is a good guess that they weren’t too pleased. It’s just conjecture on my part, but I’m sure they didn’t have the same kind of money to throw around as the more “sophisticated” and wealthy clientele.

As time went on, Guy Town became Austin’s focal point for scandal, noise, loud music, fights, and disturbances of every sort imaginable. Murders were common, and during one period of time between 1884 and 1885, a serial killer, who has come to be called, the “Servant Girl Annihilator,” prowled the streets of Austin, including Guy Town, dispatching his 8 victims with his favorite weapon, an axe. As quickly as the killings had begun, they ended, and the killer disappeared. Some have speculated that he escaped and became the famous “Jack the Ripper,” who terrorized London in 1888. We’ll probably never know for sure, but it makes for an interesting theory.

It would be wrong to leave the impression that Guy Town was an area only devoted to vices, commotion, and criminal activity. Far from being the case, reputable businesses thrived in Guy Town throughout the period of its notoriety. One such business was owned by the Schneider Family, who operated a general store at the corner of Guadalupe and 2nd Streets. The store sold a wide range of items, including, clothing, wine, whiskey, meat, cheese, and other food. Remarkably, the building is still in existence today, and remains the only building left from the Guy Town era. Even more remarkable, is that it is still owned by the Schneider Family.

Eventually, all bad things, as well as good, come to an end, and Guy Town was no exception. In many ways, Guy Town is a symbol of the rise and fall of the Old West. Like the other famous red-light districts in Texas which thrived during nearly the same time frame – Houston’s “Hollow,” El Paso’s “Utah Street,” Fort Worth’s “Hell’s Half Acre,” Waco’s “Two Street,” and “Frogtown,” in Dallas – it fell victim to a rising tide of national sentiment against not only prostitution, but gambling and the abuse of alcohol as well. Led by religious leaders, and women’s groups, the end of the Old West, and all that went with it – the tacit acceptance of wanton violence in many places, the reluctance to charge or convict felons, corrupt law enforcement and judicial officials, overt prostitution, saloons, heavy drinking, legal gambling, and public hangings in and around county jails – soon disappeared from the scene.

The Old West, as we know it, was a relatively short period of time lasting from the end of the Civil War in 1865, until 1910 or so. In the grand scheme of the Mandate of Heaven, it didn’t really last that long. But the impact that this period has had upon the rest of the world’s perception of the United States, and, the perception we have of ourselves, will live on for a very long time indeed.

A Great Texas Restaurant In Jonestown

Jonestown, Texas, calls itself the “Gateway to the Hill Country," and sits on the north shore of Lake Travis, northwest of Austin, between Cedar Park and Lago Vista, on Farm to Market Road 1431. Nestled in the scenic hill country on the eastern edge of the Balcones Escarpment, Jonestown was founded in the middle of the 1930’s, and was for many years thereafter, just a rustic fishing village.

The population of Jonestown has grown since its inception, but still is probably not more than 2,000. Nowadays, the old fishing cabins are starting to disappear, and taking their place are some very nice homes for those Austin commuters living on the north shore. In addition, Jonestown, like many communities in the Texas Hill Country, is becoming a haven for “snowbirds” from the north, looking for a mild winter climate. Despite its continuing growth, it is still one of those places where if “you blink, you’ll miss it.” And if you do blink, you’ll be missing out of some interesting things, like the several fishing tournaments Jonestown plays host to during the year, or, the annual Texas Chili Cook-off. One other thing you’ll miss is a mighty fine Texas restaurant.

There aren’t a lot of places to get something to eat in Jonestown, but even if there were, True Grits Texas Bar and Grill would still shine. Sitting right alongside FM 1431, it’s no problem to steer your pickup truck off the road in one easy motion and pull up right in front of the place. Don’t let the size of the building fool you. No matter how many vehicles appear to be parked in front, there is still plenty of room inside.

Walking into the restaurant is like walking back into a Texas time machine. Both the exterior and interior of the building are made of weathered wood panels, the roofing is metal, and immediately after you walk in the door, you’re greeted by the owner who loudly proclaims, “Hi Y’all,” in his thick Texas drawl. “Sit anywhere ya want to, but oh, here’s a nice booth right here.” The new owners took over the place a year or so ago, and, while I had no complaints about the previous owners, the new owners have done a great job sprucing the place up a bit, while still retaining its traditional Texas character. The tables are nicer, and diners no longer have to sit in booth seats with ripped fabric, but heck, I never really minded the old look. After all, I go to True Grits for the food, not to sit upon or dine from fine furniture.

True Grits is all about real home cooking. The menu is focused on long-established hill country fare like chicken fried steak, meatloaf, catfish, quesadillas, and steaks. But in keeping with the age Texas hill folk actually now live in, you can also order lemon pepper tuna and pan seared blackened salmon. To each his own I guess. I’m sure it is good, but those selections just don’t seem to fit in with a place like this. In my mind, if I want fancy flavored tuna or seared ocean fish, I’ll leave my beloved hill country behind and visit San Francisco. As for me, on my most recent trip to True Grits, I got the vegetable soup, and classic chicken fried steak with the sides of campfire pinto beans and the green beans with bacon. And speaking of sides, True Grits has an ample selection. In addition to what I ordered, you have a choice of buttermilk mashed potatoes, fried okra, rice and beans, and a lot of other stuff, including, Texas toast. My only argument with the place is that they consider Texas toast a side item instead of throwing it in along with the meal. But I’ll get over it. Life is far too short to worry about something, which in the long run, is as trivial as that.

While waiting for the food, I had time to reacquaint myself with the interior. Old knick-knacks still hang from the wall, and over the beer tub, along with a sign warning patrons that the tub is not self service, were two other signs. One read, “Time spent enjoying beer is not deducted from one’s lifespan,” while the other read “Damn good beer is served here.” My guess is that some people come here to enjoy something beyond the chicken fried steak. Imagine that.

When the food came out, to my delight, the “vegetable soup” was the most beefy concoction I have ever eaten. While there were overly generous portions of potatoes, onions, green beans and corn, the vegetables (or, as my Dad says, “vegebles”) were floating among a heavy, almost gravy-like beef broth, loaded with beef. If this is what it means to be a vegetarian, then count me in. It was so good that I almost wished I had ordered the bowl instead of a cup. My son, Billy, who had accompanied me for lunch, was a bit embarrassed when I kept spilling the soup down the front of my shirt. This seems to be a habit of mine. But, if I can get over not being served Texas toast with my meal, he can get over me embarrassing him (once again). As I noted earlier, life is short, indeed.

As in previous visits, I was delighted when the chicken fried steak arrived. What was served up was of darn good size, and the batter covering the Angus beef cutlet had an appropriate dose of black pepper. To be sure, it was fried up nice and crisp. The steak itself, was covered with delicious cream gravy, and was very tender. The pinto beans were larger than you get at most places, and when the menu said you’d get bacon with the green beans, it was not kidding.

Homemade pies are a big deal in the hill country, and despite the large selection of pies and cakes in the pie cooler, I passed on the opportunity to have any. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m really not a “dessert person,” but if you are, you won’t be disappointed. My friends tell me the pies are great. And, like most folks in the hill country, I trust my friends.

Around Austin, Lake Travis, and the Texas Hill Country, live music is readily available almost any night of the year, and Jonestown is no exception. Texas Grits offers live music many nights of the week throughout the year, featuring, many well-known musicians, including some amazing local talent living on the north shore of Lake Travis.

Well, what do you think? If you are looking for a great place to eat as you are entering the “Gateway to the Hill Country,” with traditional hill country food, friendly Texas hospitality, local music, and that “beer thing,” you may want to slow down and not blink as you pass through Jonestown. You won’t be disappointed.

1877: Famous Cellmates In The Travis County Jail

Today, across the street from the Texas State Capitol Building in Austin, Texas, on the corner of 11th and Brazos, stands the Dwight C. Greer Building. The limestone building, erected in 1933, is the home of the Texas Department of Transportation. From this building, the activities of over 12,000 of the department’s employees are directed, many of whom are located in the Greer Building itself.

But in 1877, there was another building which stood on the corner of 11th and Brazos. And, unlike the 1930’s Art Deco style building which houses state transportation employees today, the building in 1877 was built of stone and looked like a castle. But this “castle” was not built to house kings, queens, or other members of a royal family; it was built to hold murderers, robbers, petty thieves, vagrants and others who broke the law around Austin. It was also a place of execution for those who had been sentenced to hang. The building was the Travis County Jail. And, in 1877, the jail was holding two men in the same cell that would become legends of what we now call the “Old West.” These two men were John Wesley Hardin and John Ringo.

The most infamous killer in the history of Texas, and arguably in the history of the Old West, was Texas-born John Wesley Hardin. Born in 1853 to a preacher, and entering his teens in the years immediately following the Civil War, he loathed what had happened to the South in the aftermath of the war. An angry youth, he was responsible for the deaths of several men by the time he was 15 years old, and, by the time he found himself locked up in the Travis County Jail in 1877, he had killed over 40 men, with several deaths taking place during the famous Taylor-Sutton feud in DeWitt County. But Hardin’s violence was not always triggered by a cause, and sometimes it was trivial. Hardin once shot a man to death in an adjoining hotel room for snoring. Obviously not a man to be trifled with, Hardin’s reputation as one very bad and dangerous man was well known during his lifetime and his nefarious reputation has only grown in the many decades since.

John Ringo was born in Indiana in 1850, and lived in Missouri before his family headed off as part of a wagon train to find a new life in California. Along the way, his father accidentally shot himself in the head with a shotgun while young John watched helplessly. The trauma of seeing his father’s violent death never left Ringo, and he became a troubled, brooding loner who increasingly found strength and solace in a liquor bottle. By the 1870’s, Ringo found himself in the Texas Hill Country. His first arrest was for discharging a firearm on the public square in Burnet on Christmas Day 1874. Later, he became embroiled in a famous feud called the “Mason County War” or, as it was better known in the hill country, the “Hoodoo War,” and was accused of murder. As a result, it was in 1877, that Ringo found himself locked up in the Travis County Jail alongside John Wesley Hardin.

Aside from his brief notoriety in the hill country feud, Ringo was not well known, and certainly did not have anything like the fearsome reputation of John Wesley Hardin. John Ringo’s criminal career had barely begun, while Hardin’s was in its prime. That is why it surprises some historians that Hardin reportedly complained to Travis County jailers that he should not be kept locked up with someone with the disagreeable disposition of John Ringo. As a result of this contrast of their reputations at the time, many contemporary historians have questioned whether Hardin really made such a complaint at all. And, while none of us were present back then to know for sure, I have a different take. In my opinion, it is quite plausible that Hardin made such a complaint. Many of the famous outlaws of that time period were very protective of their reputation, and whether the reputation was based on truth or fiction was meaningless, because either way it maintained their pride and helped keep them alive. Hardin is a good case in point, as he later wrote a book about his life in which he detailed his many killings. While I agree Hardin was probably not physically afraid of Ringo in the Travis County Jail, he might have been afraid of an “upstart” gunfighter upstaging his reputation. The complaint to the jailers, such as it was, might have been a way for Hardin to publicly dismiss the troublesome Ringo, in effect, saying, “Why do you have this nobody locked up in a cell with me?” In any event, both men soon left the jail and went their separate ways.

After being released from jail when all charges against him were dropped, Ringo hung around Texas for awhile, and, for a short period of time became a constable. He eventually moved to Arizona where he befriended the so-called “Cowboys,” a gang operating in and around Tombstone, Arizona, which included the Clanton and McLaury families as well as “Curly” Bill Brocius. Ringo’s legend as a gunfighter has been overplayed over the years, thanks in part to books and Hollywood movies. Ringo, for example, did not participate in the famous gunfight just outside of Tombstone’s O.K. Corral when the Clantons and McLaurys squared off with the Earp brothers and “Doc” Holliday. He was, however, well known to the Earps and Holliday, and had several heated arguments with them. This familiarity with the “Cowboys” and the Earps, some cattle rustling, and the killing of a few men from time to time earned him a place in the history of the Old West. When Wyatt Earp went on his famous “Vendetta Ride,” in which many of the “Cowboys” and Ringo’s friends were killed, Ringo became extremely depressed, and his drinking, which had always been a problem, got worse.

After weeks of drinking heavily, Ringo rode out into the mountains east of Tombstone, and in July 1882, he was found with a gunshot wound to his head, leaning against a tree along West Turkey Creek. Although there has been much speculation that he was killed by Wyatt Earp, “Doc” Holliday, or others, it is more likely that with many of his friends dead, and alienated from and ostracized by his remaining family in California, John Ringo saw nothing more to live for and took his own life.

Hardin spent 15 years in a prison in Huntsville, Texas before being pardoned by the governor in 1894. During the time he was behind bars, he studied legal matters, and upon his release moved to El Paso to practice law. El Paso at the time was still a violent place. It was one of the last cities in Texas that still maintained a wide open frontier atmosphere that had been so commonplace a few years earlier. As such, it remained a destination for gamblers, wanted men, drifters, and questionable women. One of Hardin’s first legal clients was a relative who had been charged with murder.

James Miller, who was better known as “Killing Jim” and “Deacon Jim,” was Hardin's cousin by marriage. Miller, like Hardin, began his murderous ways early, by killing his grandparents when he was not even 10 years old. As an adult, Miller preached every Sunday, and seemed to lead a good, clean life, refraining from the use of tobacco and alcohol. But behind this exterior, Miller was really a psychopathic hit man who enjoyed killing men with his "scattergun," which today we call a side-by-side double barrel shotgun. Miller was soon acquitted, but Hardin was not so lucky.

In 1895, after threatening the son of El Paso’s Constable, John Selman, Hardin was shooting dice in a saloon. With his back to the door, he never saw Selman walk up behind him and fire the bullet into his head that ended his violent life at the age of 42.

Christmas Eve 2010 In The Texas Hill Country

As it has a habit of doing from time to time during the winter months, a cold front blew into the Texas Hill Country today, just in time to get everyone into the Christmas spirit. Although the morning temperature today was still in the 50’s, the rain made it feel much colder. And, on a day like this, most everyone in the hill country should take on an even greater understanding and appreciation of the hardships the Native Americans, Spanish explorers, and early settlers of the hill country faced when the weather turned cold. Actually, one does not even have to go back that far in time, as hill country folk did not even begin to receive electricity until the 1930’s, when the hill country’s favorite son, Lyndon Johnson, made it a reality.

Christmas Eve in the Texas Hill Country is no different than a lot of places around the country I guess, given the ample supply of shopping and outlet malls which cater to the last minute Christmas shopping "insanity" which seems to strike so many people this time of year. But unlike a lot of places, the hill country provides an alternative, should you choose to seek it.

My dog and I headed out into the remote solitude of the hill country this morning in an attempt to distance ourselves from cash registers, blinking lights, wrapping paper, and frenzied people. The cold and rain did not deter us in our quest to avoid the very worst things the holiday season brings, those being, commercialization, greed, the exchange of money, and stressed-out families. Except for the ever-present deer and birds found in the hill country, we did not run into another living thing on our journey, and that, to me, made for a successful day. It was, as it should be.

The quiet solitude of the hill country, the cold rain, and the companionship of my dog, gave me time to slow down, and reflect on the meaning of Christmas one day in advance of the day itself. Instead of last minute scurrying about and standing in long lines waiting to purchase something for someone that will no doubt be forgotten by noon on Christmas; I did something far more important. I took a few hours on the day before Christmas to find a quiet place in these historic hills to truly think about why Christmas Day is celebrated, and what it means for all of us.

PEACE.

Here’s A Place That’s Definitely Worth Visiting

There are so many great places to eat in Austin and the Texas Hill Country that it is impossible to visit them all, however, that should not stop anyone from trying. Many of these places, especially outside of Austin, serve the traditional local fare associated with the area. That means barbecue, beef brisket, chicken fried steak, Mexican, Tex-Mex, catfish and German food. There is nothing wrong with any of those selections of course, but sometimes you might want something a little different.

If you are in downtown Austin, or on South Congress or South Lamar in South Austin, that is not going to be a problem. There are plenty of eateries in those areas that will provide the eclectic culinary experience you may be looking to enjoy. That’s great for folks living or working close to those areas. But for those living or working in North Austin, or in the communities just north of Austin, that’s quite a drive.

They say that “necessity is the mother of invention.” When the owner of Leo’s Gyros & Beef moved down from Chicago not long ago, and opened his restaurant in Cedar Park, he was the “invention” filling the “need” of those living and working in the northern reaches of the Austin area that were looking for diverse food selections. And, if I might add, what an invention it is.

The challenge at Leo’s, is deciding what to order. It’s one of those places that have so many selections, that it’s hard to decide what to get. Yesterday, I had originally gone in to just get a Chicago Style Hot Dog. As it turned out, I got that Chicago dog, but also a Chicago Style Polish, a couple of falafels, and fries. If you are familiar with real “Chicago Street Food,” you will instantly appreciate this place, not only because it has all the familiar street selections under one roof, but also because they are all authentic and delicious.

Leo’s menu is so diverse that I will not be able to do it justice here, but it is very extensive. In addition to authentic Chicago style food, there is something for everyone. There is an unbelievably large selection of appetizers, sides, soups, salads, hamburgers, and other sandwiches, including Rubens, BLT’s, Philly Cheese Steak, and catfish. There are also offerings of shrimp, oysters, and chicken. As you would expect, kid’s meals are also available. But the real attractions at Leo’s are the Chicago dogs, pita sandwiches including gyros, falafel, and the shishkebab plates. This food is the real stuff, and it is delicious. Best of all, the owner warmly greets each and every customer, and makes sure that the food is to their liking.

Conveniently located on U.S. Route 183, just south of RM 1431 in Cedar Park, the restaurant provides those people living just north of Austin the same wide-ranging food choices more commonly found in Austin itself. No matter where you live in the Austin area, however, this is one place that’s definitely worth visiting.

Once Again, The Texas Wildflowers Are Blooming

Northern states are in the spotlight every fall, when the leaves on the trees turn bright and vivid colors. Springtime, however, is the time when the Texas Hill Country shines. For it is in this time of year when the famous hill country wildflowers bloom, and, once they are seen, they are never forgotten.

There are over 45 types of wildflowers found in the hill country. The species of flowers bloom at different times, but most bloom sometime between March and June. Of the most popular wildflowers, Bluebonnets and Texas Paintbrush are the early bloomers, as they usually show their best colors from March through April. Indian Blankets typically bloom a little later, with April and May being peak months. But, if you’re driving around the hill country anytime between March and June, or, perhaps a tad bit later, you’re going to see some type of wildflower, and plenty of them.

Last month, in February, there were a few early and sporadic sightings of Bluebonnets. A few weeks ago, the sightings began picking up significantly. Today, the fields of color are beginning to break out all over. Several days ago I drove down a road and didn’t see a single flower, but when I drove that same road today, I saw thousands of Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrush, and other wildflowers.

The experts say that this is going to be a banner year for wildflowers in Texas, as it always is following a wet fall and winter. From early indications, they seem to be right. One thing is for sure, if you’ve always dreamed about seeing the colorful wildflowers in the hill country of Texas, this is a great year to make that dream come true.

Time To Celebrate: Lake Travis Is Full And The Current Drought Is Officially Over

Yesterday, the water level of Lake Travis rose above 681 feet above mean sea level (msl) for the first time since the fall of 2007, after dropping below 630 feet msl in late September of last year. The El Nino weather pattern is what normally brings Texas out of its recurring historical droughts, and the El Nino of the last 6 months was no exception, raising the level of Lake Travis over 51 feet since its lowest water level during the current drought.

The full pool of the lake, and the end of the drought, is great news and certainly cause for celebration in the Texas Hill Country. Last summer, the low lake level closed most, if not all, of the lake’s public boat ramps. This had a negative financial impact on businesses along the lake, including marinas, waterfront restaurants, music venues, hotels, and tourist rental properties. Equally bad, “sometimes islands” appeared on the lake, causing accidents and injuries, especially among boaters unfamiliar with the lake. And, residents across the hill country, dealt with the watering restrictions common in times of drought.

This year will be much different. Currently, the lake level is 10 feet above what the level would normally be during a typical March. Businesses along all of the Highland Lakes, including Lake Travis, will no doubt thrive this year, but, then again, this is Texas, the land of feast or famine. Texans in the hill country have learned how to adapt to fast changing weather and climate over the years. One year’s prosperity might bring something quite different the next year. We’ve seen it all before, and, many times.

But, given the current conditions, it is time to celebrate the “feast” of a full lake and the end of the current drought. I will enjoy it while I can, because Texas weather history tells me, it won’t last forever.

As They Say In Texas, “I Told You That Story To Tell You This One”

Fess Parker passed away last week in Southern California. Although he was born and raised in Texas, and graduated from the University of Texas in Austin, he spent most of his adult life living in California. In his later years, he ran a resort and a winery, but it was his early years that the baby boomers remember most, when, as a television and movie actor, he played both Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone. I remember both of my older brothers wearing the coonskin cap he made famous during those years. But, as they say here in Texas, I told you that story to tell you this one.

There are two movies that are similar, and which baby boomers watched countless times growing up in the 1950’s and 1960’s. One movie was The Yearling, based on the book with the same name, written by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. The other movie was Old Yeller, based on the book with the same name, written by Fred Gipson.

The books, and the movies they spawned, are both about boys coming of age in the rural South in the years following the American Civil War. In the book and movie, The Yearling, a boy is growing up in rural Florida, and, in the book and movie, Old Yeller, a boy is growing up in the rural hill country of Texas. In both of the books and the movie renditions, the boy of the story becomes attached to an animal, and, in the end, due to unforeseen circumstances, he is forced to kill it. Both Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings and Fred Gipson wrote about what they knew. Rawlings grew up in rural Florida, and Gipson in the hill country of Texas. In both cases, these rural locations were central to their stories.

Fred Gipson was born in the Texas Hill Country’s Mason County in 1908, and grew up on a farm there. After graduating from high school, he briefly attended the University of Texas, but soon left to write for newspapers and magazines. Eventually, he began writing books. Among the many books he wrote, Old Yeller became a classic. Now, once again, I told you that story to tell you this one.

Fess Parker, the Texas-born actor I mentioned earlier, after graduating from the University of Texas, soon left the state to pursue an acting career. Over the years, he acted in many television and movie roles, including Walt Disney’s Davy Crockett. But one of the movies that helped make him a Hollywood Star was playing the part of the father in the Disney movie, Old Yeller, based on Fred Gipson’s novel. And, while he occasionally played characters with Texas themes, he never returned to live in Texas.

Fred Gipson, on the other hand, never really left Texas. He died in the hill country in 1973, not far from where he was born. Along the way, he wrote a string of books, several of which became movies, and which dealt with rural Texas themes and the animals he loved. Upon Gipson’s leaving us, his burial in the exclusive Texas State Cemetery in Austin was approved by a proclamation of the governor. And, as Paul Harvey used to say, “now you know the rest of the story.” The epitaph on his headstone sums up his life in the nicest and, most appropriate way.

“HIS BOOKS ARE HIS MONUMENT”

That One Particular Texas Road Sign

Like a lot of states, Texas has many wild critters that like to run across the roadways in front of passing automobile and truck traffic, including squirrels, skunks, turtles, possums, rabbits, and deer. Unlike a lot of states, however, Texas roadways are also sometimes visited by feral hogs and armadillos. As a motorist, dealing with wild animals darting across the road is always a problem, especially if it is something large like a deer or a hog. But, in many places in Texas, besides keeping a watchful eye for wild animals, the motorist needs to pay special attention to livestock on the road as well.

Texas is an open range state, which means that except along federal and main state highways, or where prohibited by local stock laws, livestock may roam at large. This results in livestock occasionally finding their way onto roadways where they endanger themselves as well as passing motorists.

Over the next several months, the roads of the hill country will be a little busier as folks head out to see the fields of Texas wildflowers. In addition to marveling at the colorful Bluebonnets, Indian Blankets, and other wildflowers, I, for one, will also be on the lookout for something else. While yellow and black, it is not a colorful flower, but a road sign with the words “Loose Livestock” on the front. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got enough challenges in my life without hitting a 2,000 pound Texas Longhorn while out driving around looking at pretty flowers.