Innholdsfortegnelse for August 2016 i Texas Highways Magazine

As I write this on a warm summer evening, I’m listening to the pleasant buzz of cicadas as the sun burnishes the sky in pink and gold. I’m here at the Hyatt Regency Lost Pines Resort near Bast rop as a student at the Texas Travel Industry Association’s annual Travel and Tourism College, a three-year program focused on various aspects of the industry. Travel is big business in Texas; TTIA estimates that the industry generates a direct economic impact of almost $70 billion annually. But why do we travel? If you ask a dozen people, you’ll likely hear a dozen answers—but most of them share themes of adventure or discovery. We seek excitement and novelty, or we seek connection—either with loved ones, a place, or perhaps some part of ourselves…

As our group launches at dusk, enough light remains that we can peer through the crystalline water at some of the springs bubbling from the bottom. BENEATH FADING EARLY EVENING light, I slip across glassy water over the reflections of large cypress and pecan trees along the bank. Swallows swoop fearlessly overhead and a fish splashes nearby. The calls of birds gradually yield to a chorus of frogs. A great blue heron flaps across the lake, its neck a graceful fold. The sky turns dark, and at last, an ethereal, creamy light filters through the trees. A full-moon kayak tour of Spring Lake in San Marcos offers one of the best ways to enjoy both this lunar phenomenon and unique body of water. The Meadows Center for Water and the…

Glinting pools of blue-green water. Rugged limestone bluffs, fuzzy with moss. A rope swing, knotted for better grip, looped over the branch of a towering tree. In Texas, we love our swimming holes as much as we love barbecue and country music. We’ve got plenty of them worth bragging about, too. From east to west and north to south, shimmering natural ponds and river respites abound, beckoning us to kick off our sandals and take a flying leap. Our advice? Give in to the temptation. To help you plot your adventure, we’ve rounded up a few of our favorites. But nature has a way of taking away what she gives, and swimming holes are fickle things. What you see today could shrink like a grape into a raisin in a…

THE NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS CALLED Felix Harris “the Voodoo Man” because his front yard was full of eerie poles he brought to life using broken and discarded objects. He created more than 120 of the totems, from 5- to 18-feet tall. Sometimes the wind would make parts spin and hum, and the kids would run away screaming. Nobody on Ledet Road, especially not Harris, had any idea that these quirky creations would one day help give Beaumont a reputation as the folk art capital of Texas. Nobody had any idea that these quirky creations would one day help give Beaumont a reputation as the folk art capital of Texas. After Harris passed away at age 80 in 1985, his great-nephew Elray Wolfe donated the work to the Art Museum of Southeast…

El Paso, the state’s westernmost and perhaps most historic urban center, has served as a crossroads of the Americas for more than four centuries. The city rises from the banks of the Rio Grande borderlands in fine, venerable homes and landmark buildings while contemporary construction ascends the surrounding desert mountains. The metropolis fills the river valley until it reaches a natural pass through the mountain range, spilling across the state line toward the pueblos and Spanish Colonial cities of modern-day New Mexico. The expansion follows in the footprints of explorers, traders, Native Americans, and settlers who began traversing the same route hundreds of years ago. Despite its Texas city status, El Paso is as much a part of Mexico as it is a part of the American Southwest, a fact…

THERE ARE THINGS YOU EXPECT TO discover when you travel: new restaurants, unfamiliar expressions, obscure attractions. I like to search out peoples’ stories. Some are small and quiet. Others are ripsnorters. The most memorable are passionate tales of personal bests, quests, and discoveries. Near Graham about a decade ago, I found one worthy of conversion into an epic poem. Just over an hour northwest of Fort Worth, the prairie buckles into mesas, forming a Wild West landscape that witnessed the dramas celebrated in Technicolor classics: the blazing of the Goodnight-Loving partnership, wagon raids, jail breaks, and more than one trail of tears. My search for insights into the area’s character began with a bartender, a source often steeped in local lore. I had just settled into the historic Wildcatter Ranch…

WHEN I WAS A KID GROWing up in the Midwest, my family vacations were mainly of the s’mores-andsleeping-bags variety. My family loved hitting the road for camping trips with our pop-up trailer, and one of the places that still holds a spot dear to my heart is a Jellystone campground along the Michigan-Indiana border. Part of a national chain themed on the Yogi Bear cartoon of the 1960s, Jellystone campgrounds are self-contained family getaways. My mom used to joke that everything was included with your reservation—even your own “personal squirrel in a bag.” As a young adult, I preferred the fresh air and rustic charm of tent camping. But once my husband and I had two little boys and a dog in tow, the everything-but-the-squirrel luxury camping experience started appealing…

IT’S A SUNDAY AFTERNOON, AND THE rows of picnic tables are quickly filling up outside at Houston’s West Alabama Ice House. Inside, regulars settle into prized spots on cushioned swiveling stools while a bartender in a red Houston Texans T-shirt pops open beer bottles and juggles conversations with ease and a sunny smile. In the backyard, kids play basketball while groups of friends retreat to wooden corner benches, where they sip Lone Star and someone picks up a guitar for some bluesy guitar riffs. “We’ve got over 80 years of beer drinking in this neighborhood,” says owner Pete Markantonis matter-of-factly. Built in 1928, the icehouse has been in his family since 1985, when his dad Jerry, a longtime bar-owner in the downtown area, looked to the Montrose neighborhood for his…

Just after sunset under a wide-open Texas sky, a colossal outdoor movie screen towers over a sea of cars. In the fading light, the glow of colored bulbs and neon tubes lights the way to the obligatory snack bar, and a light breeze carries the irresistible aroma of fresh popcorn and deep-fried delights like corn dogs and funnel cake. It’s an experience you won’t find anywhere else. Welcome to the drive-in. Moviegoers at the drive-in forego the air-conditioning and stadium seating of the brick-and-mortar cinema for the freedom of watching a movie in their cars, beneath the stars. Some hunker down in the front seat, while others get cozy with blankets and pillows atop air mattresses in the beds of their pickups. At some theaters, moviegoers ditch their vehicles to…

9:00 A.M. Since breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I began my journey at The Nutshell Eatery & Bakery on the downtown square. Among delicious sweets and eats, this place also serves up intriguing legends. One holds that John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated President Lincoln, escaped to Texas and bartended here under the alias “John St. Helen.” Whether or not that’s true, my “Jesse James Scramble” (named for another town legend) was delicious with scrambled eggs, onions, hash browns, and sausage, served with warm flour tortillas. 10:00 A.M. Even though I’d only been in Granbury for a short time, it was clear that history lurked around every corner. I walked the Historic Granbury Square, passing a restaurant that was once a gas station visited by Bonnie and…