Postcard From Enchanted Rock

Leaving the Dairy Queen Princess behind, I set my sights on Enchanted Rock State Natural Area. What better way to celebrate the 4-month anniversary of my return from death than to climb Enchanted Rock? Enchanted Rock is one huge pink granite rock (actually, it is part of a rough, segmented ridge which is in turn part of the surface expression of a large igneous batholith of middle Precambrian material intrusive into earlier metamorphic schists and gneiss - for those who care) which rises 385 feet above the ground. It's the largest single granite rock in the U.S., is the geologic center of Texas, and is visible for miles around.




Apache, Comanche and Tonkawa Indians all believed ghost fires flickered at the top and revered it as a holy portal to other worlds. They also believed the area is haunted by a native American princess who threw herself off the rock after witnessing the slaughter of her people by an enemy tribe. A conquistador captured by the Tonkawa Indians described how he escaped by losing himself in the rock area, giving rise to an Indian legend of a "pale man swallowed by a rock and reborn as one of their own." The Indians believed he wove enchantments on the area, but he explained that the rock wove the spells. "When I was swallowed by the rock, I joined the many spirits who enchant this place."

Rising almost 400 feet in 0.6 miles, the climb up wasn't a killer, but it wasn't the easiest hike I've ever been on. The kids going up didn't have to stop to rest like us older folks, but they didn't run up it either. The sun was out in force and the temp was over 90 degrees so that made it a bit more challenging. After several rest stops, I finally made it to the top. The view was wonderful and it felt great knowing I've recovered enough to make that climb. I'm sure it was just an interesting activity for most, but for me, it was an affirmation of life. I'd be lying though if I said I didn't have some concerns on my way up. I was by myself and had this fear of having another heart attack and just rolling all the way down that big sucker while all these people stopped climbing to watch and pointing their fingers at the poor fool rolling ass over tea kettle. Probably not very rational and I knew that , but the fear was there still.

After some time at the top enjoying the view, I carefully made my way back down. It was a lot easier. About 3/4 of the way down, I spotted a man who looked to be a visitor from India with 2 children sitting on an outcropping in some shade. The reason I noticed him was because he had looked around (but not behind him where I was) and then sneaky-like threw an empty juice carton behind the rock they were sitting on. I kept my eye on him and as I came alongside, they started to walk away. I had noticed the whole park had very little litter around and it made me proud of my fellow humans - until this litter-bug bozo. It upset me so I asked him if he was just going to leave that juice box he threw on the ground or take it out with him to a trash can. He looked startled, but then replied in a heavy accent "Yeah, yeah, I take it," but didn't make a move to retrieve it. So I just stood there looking at him. "I take it," he said again, but still made no move to pick it up. I raised my camera, took his picture and continued to stand there. He finally turned around and got the offending trash so I left. I looked back once a few feet on down the trail and he still had it in his hand so I assume he did indeed pack it out, but I can't be sure because I didn't look back again.

After making my way back to the truck and removing several cactus thorns I somehow had picked up on my ankle (like a good Boy Scout, I had tweezers in my overnight kit), I was hot, sweaty, and tired. I was ready for a shower and a nap. A few miles down the road past Fredericksburg and I pulled into Kerrville and checked into the Hampton Inn. Last year, I stayed at a Hilton a lot when I was traveling to my client's site for work so I'm some color or other on Hilton Honors and to my surprise, the desk lady asked me if I would like a free room upgrade. Free? Oh heck yeah, I'll take an upgrade for free! Well, the upgrade meant I got a couch in my room and it was a bit bigger than the room the non-hooty hoots get so it wasn't like I got the Presidential Suite or something, but hey, the price was right. The shower felt great, the shampoo was good, and the air conditioner made the room downright chilly. I heard the bed calling me. And for the next 55 minutes, I communed with it. Mark it on the calendar - on this day, a wonderful nap occurred.

 

 (Please click here for the first entry in this series.)



On the Road to Kerrville

Rather than spend several hours on a soul-killing interstate, I decided to take SH-67 south out of Dallas. Unlike most years, this time there was a mood dampening lack of spring flowers. My temporary funk got better when I made it beyond Midlothian and saw the first patches of wildflowers just past the town of Venus. Most years they are so abundant you can't pass a field or open space beside a road without seeing them in profusion, but this year, they are few and far between. Drought, too much rain, an off year - I don't know. They'll be back next year. Or the next.

SH-67 remains 4 lanes through Alvarado, Keene, Cleburne and reduces down to two before arriving in Glen Rose. The small town of Glen Rose, population 2,200, is the dinosaur capital of Texas and home to Fossil Rim Wildlife Center. http://www.fossilrim.org/ Now there's a special place for me because Fossil Rim Wildlife Center one fine fall day at sunset, on a hilltop overlooking the watering hole where exotic wild animals were coming to drink, just happens to be where I was fortunate enough to stand next to a very beautiful woman and exchange I Do's. Over twenty years later she is still my wonderful wife and has proven to have just as much patience, understanding, and commitment as beauty. And that's been a very good thing.

Glen Rose is also where this road starts getting interesting and the land starts to pretty up. Lots of room, mesquite trees, not many people and not much traffic. BFT's stereo sounded fine as I cranked it up a bit and played my favorite tunes on my IPod. You ever see people driving their car and sitting there just singing away, off in their own little world acting as if nobody can see them? I plead guilty along this stretch of road. It doesn't get much better than this.

Just past Chalk Mountain, it's time to head south on SH-220, another little 2-laner that is even less traveled than what I just turned off. There's not even any little communities along this stretch of the road, but it doesn't take much time to reach the town of Hico (it's pronounced high-coe) and connect with US-281 going south. Hico, population 1,341, is a nice little town that bills itself as the north entrance to the Texas Hill Country, but what Hico is probably best known for is that it was the 1940's home of Ollie P. Roberts, aka Brushy Bill Roberts, who gained nationwide fame for claiming he was actually William H. Bonney - Billy The Kid. Before Brushy Bill died in Hico on December 27, 1950, he spent the last years of his life trying to prove he was the famous outlaw and to obtain the pardon promised him by the governor of New Mexico. He made some pretty convincing arguments. Sam Donaldson narrated an ABC documentary about his claim and Robert Stack did a segment on Roberts in 1990 on the NBC television series Unsolved Mysteries.

 

Could the history books be wrong? According to the Hico Chamber of Commerce, several relatives, including a son and grandson of Sheriff Pat Garrett, claim he never killed The Kid. There were no reliable witnesses to what body was actually placed in the Kid's grave and the Garrett family holds that Garrett and the Kid plotted to collect the $500 reward offered for The Kid.

 

Next to the Brushy Bill marker on North Pecan Street, is a large statue by the sculptor James Rice of Billy the Kid firing his gun. Nowadays, downtown Hico, sporting the Billy the Kid Museum on South Pecan Street, is a restored Western community with businesses appealing to tourists. There is an artist studio, antique stores, restaurants, and a leather shop. There is free musical entertainment downtown on Saturday nights and the Jersey Lilly Restaurant provides free horse-drawn buggy rides.

 

But Hico is still a good ways from Kerrville so I passed on through, continuing south on US-281, very much enjoying the scenery and relative solitude along the well-maintained road,  traveling through the occasional sparsely populated communities and the towns of Hamilton and Evant. Finally, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, I connected with Hwy-581 and headed west, passing over numerous little creeks and not much else until arriving in Lometa, a town big enough to have a convenience store where I stopped for a Dr. Pepper and the potty break I should have stopped for back in Evant. There's not much in Lometa, but my bladder was glad to get there. The restroom was fairly clean according to small town convenience store standards. Even so, I recognized the sanitary advantage of being a guy able to stand at such a time.

 

Just west of Lometa, Hwy-581 makes an abrupt turn to the south for a while and then dead ends into Hwy-580 which continues southwest for a couple of miles. It's a little confusing here because 580 abruptly turns north, which is not where I wanted to go, so I caught Hwy-501 just before 580 cut north. Hwy-501 is a continuation of the same scenery I had been riding through for the last couple of hours and I was still enjoying it. You have time to think about things on a drive like this so that's what I did. I'm glad to report I solved several of the world's problems along with fixing the country. The only thing it will take will be for me to be elected king. And then I didn't think any more; I just sang songs out loud and looked stupid doing it.

 

Eventually I arrived at Cherokee. For some reason, even though I have never had any affiliation with the town, I like Cherokee. It's a pretty little unincorporated town, population about 175. At one time, it had over 500 residents and a college, but that was back in the late 1800's and the number of people has decreased and the college went away since then. The houses are well kept and the few buildings in town are in relatively good shape and it just seems to be a nice, quiet place to hang your hat. Or maybe I just like the name Cherokee. In town, I turned off of 501 and took Hwy-16 south. I'm getting closer to Kerrville now and starting to get a bit tired so I'm looking forward to getting checked into the hotel and maybe taking a short nap.

 

A few miles down the road comes the town of Llano. The pickup and I are both hungry so when I spot the Llano Dairy Queen next to a gas station with gas for $3.66, I stop. I used to get the Steak Finger Basket whenever I ate at DQ, but since my little health event, I have to watch what I eat. Deciding that fried steak fingers dipped in white gravy, French Fries and buttered Texas Toast was not the healthiest choice I could make, I went with just a hamburger. OK, maybe that's not the healthiest thing one can eat either, but I was in Llano and I doubt there is a lot of healthy-type food choices to be had there and besides, I wasn't going to spend 30 minutes driving around looking for some place called Earth Mother's Bountiful Blessings or some such so I ate a hamburger without cheese and with mustard, not mayo and I didn't even have fries with that. A girl named Sharon took my order and kept smiling at me the whole time. Hmmm, maybe I look good to a stout small town girl with ketchup and sundry other stains on her blouse. Probably any guy would. Now wait a minute. That's a mean thing to think and I should have been ashamed of myself. I'm sure she's a very nice girl just being nice to a customer. I did notice however, that when other people's food was ready, she called their number and they came to the counter to get it. She hand delivered mine and stood beside my table smiling. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, this looks fine. Thank you."

"Ok, but if you need anything at all, just let me know."

 

That's when the little devil guy that sits on my shoulder pipes in with, "Well now, Mr. Man, this is interesting." It's sure been a while since anything like this has happened. Am I reading something into this that isn't so?

"Dude, why are you even wondering about this? It's not Sandra Bullock so you know you're not going to do anything about it even if there's an opportunity there so just pretend, yes, she wants you bad, make believe you still got it and feel good about yourself."

 

And that's exactly what I did. When I finished my burger, I told Sharon thank you as I walked out the door. A couple of minutes later I was still smiling as I filled up my truck with gas. Yeah, baby, I still got it!

 

(Please click here for the first entry in this series.)

Phil the Vet

I bid adios to my brother-in-law, borrowed a Dr. Pepper from his fridge for later in the day and hit the road at 9:15. Before getting on the interstate, I stopped at Starbucks to trade an empty Starbucks coffee bag for a cup of fresh brewed. Add a slice of banana nut bread and you have the breakfast of champions! Total cost for breakfast - $2.08. Happy camper.

When I parked in front of the store, there was an older guy, obviously homeless, sitting on one of the outside chairs. Dirty, long stringy hair, bearded face, wearing two coats and a pair of gloves, he was busy waving his arms around and having an aggressive verbal argument with himself. As I got out of the truck and started walking toward the door, he stopped talking and waving his arms. As I passed him, with an upward nod of the head, he indicated hello like guys do with guys they don't know so I gave a responding nod. I expected him to ask for some spare change, but he didn't.

After I made it inside, I noticed he started back up with the arm movements and arguing and as I stood in line, I watched him  through the window. He would behave normally whenever somebody was coming in or leaving the store, but as soon as they got past, he would start again with the odd behavior. He seemed to be desperately trying to wipe something off himself and throwing it down to the ground. Several times he jumped up and vigorously rubbed invisible stuff off his legs then slowly sat back down.

I guess the young man that had made my coffee (Jerry, according to his name tag) noticed me watching the poor fellow and when our eyes met, he said, "That's Phil. He comes here every Sunday morning. I've never seen him any other time. He never bothers anybody and always sits outside. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's a vet from one of the desert wars so I give him a cup of coffee and something to eat from the unsold food we were going to get rid of anyway."

After finishing my breakfast, I walked by the counter and told Jerry, "I'm a vet myself. Thanks for helping Phil." As soon as I started to open the door to leave, Phil became still and quiet again. "Hey," I said to him, "you ok?" "I'm ok," he replied, "I just got these bugs on me. I get them off, but they keep jumping back on me." "OK," I said. "So do you need a couple of bucks to get some medicine or something?" "No man, I'm good. I got breakfast and smokes and I got stuff hidden. Money won't get these bugs off of me. I don't need nothing."  "OK then. Take care."

He was the first homeless person I've ever encountered who didn't ask for money. In fact, he refused it when offered. I didn't know what to think about that. As I drove out of the parking lot heading south, Phil was once again standing up, wiping bugs off his legs.

(Please click here for the first post of this series.)