Tag Archives: texas

A Whole New Level of Pain

Last weekend was quite a blur, and the week which followed was no slacker either. Consequently I’ve had a couple of posts queued up which I haven’t made yet, this one being one of them.

Very early Friday morning I flew to Atlanta where I had a completely full afternoon lined up. It started with a lunch meeting to which I arrived precisely on time from the airport. After a completely full day I treated my parents to dinner at Amalfi, a really nice little family run Italian restaurant on the south side of Roswell. Like me, my parents were in town to see the Greatest Kid in the World perform in the Nutcracker Ballet.

The next morning we got up and went shopping, but that’s a subject for my next post. After shopping we drove to the small town where the GKITW lives and watched her perform in the Nutcracker, did our traditional after show dinner and then drove back in time to crawl in bed at midnight.

I was up again at 4:00 am to catch a 6:10 am flight from Atlanta to Dallas. I was headed back because I wanted to join a day hike in Mineral Wells, Texas with a new group of friends. Landing at DFW at about 7:40 gave me enough time to drive the hour and a half out to Mineral Wells and get a little breakfast along the way.

As the map shows below, we actually started our hike in a tiny little “town” called Garner, Texas. How Garner qualifies to have any designation at all on the map is kind of hard to understand. The best that I could tell it consists of a church and a convenience store across the road from one another. That’s it.

Anyway, we entered the trail at Garner and walked toward Mineral Wells. The folks I was with are part of the same backpacking group that I made my aborted camping trip with last month. Healthy this time, I was eager to get my hike on and see what the day would be like. The weather could not have been better. It was a little breezy at first, bright blue sky and a high of 75 degrees. We were planning for a solid 14 miles, which is trail length from Garner to Mineral Wells and back as you can see:


View Larger Map

The hike was exactly what I had hoped for – about as physically aggressive as you can get on flat land without running. Our pace was somewhere between 3-4 miles per hour the entire way out and back. The trail was about as wide, smooth and flat as you can get. It is an old converted rail bed that has had the rails and ties stripped out so that folks like us can enjoy a long walk.

We made three stops in our 14 mile trek. The first and third were at a small park dedicated to Vietnam War helicopter pilots. Apparently the Mineral Wells area was where the Army trained helicopter pilots for quite a long time. The second stop, ironically enough, was at a McDonald’s on the eastern edge of Mineral Wells. There we were, doing some awesome healthy hiking and we go and stop at Mickey D’s. I had a cheeseburger and a small Coke. Most everybody else had an ice cream sundae. Obviously we were burning it all off, I just thought it was funny that we hiked through the Texas countryside with great exercise and scenery and a McDonald’s was our halfway point.

After that we headed back, and the last few miles our bodies started to protest the pace and distance. 75 degrees started to feel a little hot in the sun when the breeze stopped. Also, we never slackened our pace, going just about as fast as we could the whole way. A couple of us started to run low on water, and they in particular were feeling it. As far as that was concerned I was fine. I had my 100 ounce Camelbak and though it was getting pretty light the last few miles I felt plenty hydrated. It was obvious that we were sweating a lot. In five hours of hiking I had to pee only once while drinking almost three quarts of water and a Coke.

My adaptation to our speed was another matter. My legs were getting sore before we ever reached our starting point, which was a big warning sign that caught my attention. By the time we got back I was definitely feeling it, and once we stopped moving while we formed up around our cars to say chat a bit and say goodbye the alarm bells were going off. My legs were getting cramps just standing around. After a short while we all loaded up and headed off to our various destinations.

After driving nearly two hours to get back to Uptown I parked the car in the deck and went to step out of it and stand up. OUCH!!

Feet, legs, lower back – they were all very angry with me. I was stiff as a board. Shuffling slowly up the apartment I must have looked like a physical therapy patient. And I was exhausted. A vegetable really. I was so tired that I couldn’t even think clearly. I took a long hot bath to try to make the muscle aches a little better and it did help. As I sat there and soaked it occurred to me that my legs were actually more sore after this hike than they were after climbing Pike’s Peak! It had to be the pace. Pike’s was grueling but slow. We were moving when we went to Mineral Wells and back, and that had to be the cause. The good news – my knees were perfectly fine, which is further proof that all my exercise since September is really paying off.

The rest of the evening was a collapse into exhaustion. Originally I had planned to cook a dinner and chill out like I often do on a Sunday night, but there was no way in heck I was doing that last Sunday. Standing long enough to cook a dinner was out of the question. I can’t remember what I ate, but I sure didn’t cook it.

I tried to watch the Cowboys-Giants game, but by half time it was obvious I wasn’t going to make it to the end. I had started the day at 3:00 am Central Time, literally hiked my butt off, and stayed up until about 9:00 pm. A pretty solid 19 hour day! I hobbled to bed and slept a deep dreamless sleep for about 10 hours before waking up. It wasn’t enough. I was slow and dopey and achey all day long, but still really glad that I went. That level of exertion was actually exactly what I was looking for. I’m going to keep pushing myself harder and harder until I can do… I’m not sure what. Some really cool fun adventurous stuff. And I’m going to enjoy it the whole way!

Hubbard’s Cafe

In the things that Mike and I did last weekend I was trying to think of stuff that clearly said “Texas” each time, and come Sunday morning there would be only one option for breakfast – go out. After a month gone away my refrigerator had nothing in it that did not require careful handling for disposal. So while winding down the evening on Saturday I was wracking my brain trying to think of what would be a breakfast experience worthy of a visitor’s first pleasure trip to Dallas.

Out of the dark edges of my memory sprang forth a shred of recollection. It was from a business trip I had made years ago. There was an old-school diner that specialized in breakfast business and where the servers were… Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Yes. That was it. I remembered the place. Gorgeous women waiting on tables – tastefully. This was no Hooters for the morning crowd. The women were not in cheerleader uniform, but just wearing street clothes – jeans, etc. They were just really pretty. And pleasant. And somehow it all had something to do with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader squad. Breakfast here we come.

It wasn’t easy finding the place. As best as I can tell Hubbard’s (at least this Hubbard’s) has no website. Googling things like “dallas cowyboys cheerleader breakfast” and other such strings yielded all kinds of nonsense and but I was finally able to locate an online review from a regular guy who wrote about an “eye popping” breakfast experience at Hubbard’s Cafe in Garland, Texas. It was enough to go on. When we woke up in the morning I called the phone number listed in the review and asked if their’s was “the place with all the pretty waitresses.” You could hear her grin and blush and roll her eyes as she said “Yep, that’s us.” Off we went.

Seems like Mike got what he always does – eggs and toast. I got an omelet with some hash browns and toast. We both got to see a Texas phenomenon. The waitresses – ours no exception – were uniformly very pretty, very polite and very charming. But again, this was no Hooters. Everyone was tastefully dressed and the cafe crowd was no different than what you’d see in any diner – lots of guys out for breakfast, lots of families with kids of all ages, some grandparents on the way home from church.

On the walls near the cash register were about a dozen autographed photos of Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders wishing their former co-workers well. Apparently Hubbard’s is indeed the farm team for some of the most beautiful women anywhere.

Gentlemen, there are plenty of ways worse than this to get your breakfast. And you can enjoy it with a clean conscience. Hubbard’s Cafe (also goes buy Hubbard’s Cubbard) is at 901 Main Street, Garland, TX.

Live in Aught Three

In my post on Booked Up in Archer City I mentioned that the store had the feel a grandparent’s house where bits and pieces of the lives of friends and loved ones are scattered around to see. What I failed to mention is that I bought one of those things – a copy of Live in Aught Three by James McMurtry and the Heartless Bastards.

If you have ever found something special in an unusual way or place you’ve probably had the feeling I’ve got about this CD. When I picked it up off the counter at the last second I thought this excellent recording might be as relatively unknown as the place I found it, but I’ve started to think that just can’t be possible. It’s too good not to have a wide following, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit to find out that I’m just the last guy on earth to hear about it.

Artistry runs in families and so I suppose it should be no surprise that Larry McMurtry’s son James is an artist too, and when listening to his music it makes perfect sense that his dad is a writer. The lyrics are top notch. But so is everything.

As the title tells well enough, these tracks are live recordings. I can’t tell you how good their quality is. For me the purchase of a live CD is very often a let down. I have a hard time getting through the low fidelity and to the music. That is not a problem here – the opposite happens. Listen on a good system and you’d swear the band must be somewhere close to you but out of sight. Close your eyes and you are outside on a fine spring evening with your friends and a bottle of beer. It’s that good.

And then the music itself is just hard to beat. The sound, the story telling, the pace and that exceptional quality of a good compilation that can only occur when everything just goes together – they are all there. As for what kind of music it is exactly I can’t say. I suggest reading the reviews to get the thoughts of someone who actually knows what they are talking about. My taste in music is as haphazard as my taste in every other art form. I can’t tell you what I like as much as I can point to it, and I point to a lot of things that don’t have much in common.

I also make no secret of the fact that I like my entertainment on the intellectually challenging side, and McMurtry is easily up to that. When I listen to tracks like “No More Buffalo”, “Out Here in the Middle” and “Lights of Cheyenne” I swear I can’t tell if he likes living out here in the middle, if he doesn’t or if there would be any place he’d prefer either way. With “60 Acres” and “Choctaw Bingo” you can’t help but think that he views Texas more cynically, but “Rachel’s Song” makes you wonder if he’d ever leave anyway. If this music were wine, it would have such complexity and reputation that it would be available by auction only.

James McMurtry and his accomplished band play down in Austin they say. Maybe I’ll get down there and meet them some time.

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Photo by Craig Seth.

[Update - unlike my friend over at the arc of time (who makes full disclosure and also knows something about music) I get nothing if you follow the link above and buy this CD. This is not because I disdain commercialism. Color me capitalist. It's not even because I frown on flogging while blogging. It's simply because I don't know how. Yet.]

Books – The Purpose

Once inside Booked Up (below) the browsing began. If you really want to get a feel for just how much is there you’ll have to go see it yourself. Still, I took a few notes that can give you a glimpse. One of the things that made the biggest impression on me as I scanned some of the more rare books was the incredible diversity of human experience, even just among westerners writing in English. Another was a humbling sense of the smallness of any one life on the tapestry of time.

Want to experience romance and adventure from the 19th century reader’s perspective? How would “A Slave of the Saracen” suit you? A fictional commentary on the family life of the day? How about giving “The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table” a read? Travel? Try “Seeing Europe by Automobile”, which was clearly written to differentiate the experience from rail or horse. Politics? Have the only copy of “Inquiry into the Nature of Certain 19th Century Pamphlets” I’ve ever seen. Science? “Soviet Genetics and World Science.” Philosophy? “The Life of Voltaire.” Nature? “The Life of the Salmon.” Weather? “The Climate of Indiana.” Religion and morality? Have a tiny little book admonishing against fornication written entirely in Latin but published some time in the 19th century?

Listing all that was no different than counting the stars in a tiny patch of sky and giving up. It was endless.

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One of the books I finally decided that I would buy was “Nonsenseorship”, a 1922 commentary on American life in the era of prohibition and the moralism of that day. In the midst of today’s absurd rancor over politically correct speech and increasingly coercive regulations regarding whether we smoke, how we drink and now even what we’re eating, I was instantly taken by this passage from the foreword:

“From England, through the eyes of Frank Swinnerton, we glimpse ourselves as others see us, and rather pathetically. In days gone by, lured by reports of America’s lawless free-and-easiness, Swinnerton says he craved to visit us. But no more. The wish is dead. We have become hopelessly moral and uninviting. “I see that I shall after all have to live quietly in England with my pipe and my abstemious bottle of beer. And yet I should like to visit America, for it has suddenly become in my imagining an enormous country of ‘Don’t!’ and I want to know what it is like to have ‘Don’t!’ said to me by somebody who is not a woman.”

I think I’m really going to enjoy reading it.

On a more serious note, there was a book from 1908 that had an introduction so chilling that I could not help but write down an excerpt since I wasn’t going to pay the $200 to buy it. It was from “Kafir Socialism”, Kafir being the derogatory term for black Africans used by the Boers and others in the past. It was a political commentary on the direction of world politics in general and “solving the native question” in particular:

“In the case of races and classes, just as in the case of individuals, those that are the most efficient in their adaptation to environment, and not those that simply give expression to the loftiest sentiment, will survive and dominate all rivals; while the weak and inefficient will go to the wall.”

Mind you, this wasn’t some ratty, poorly written pamphlet run off the alleyway presses of the lunatic fringe. It was a nicely bound hard cover book with acclamations inside. In retrospect, how can you read that and be surprised that the horrors of the First World War were just around the corner, and those of the Russian revolution and the Holocaust not far behind?

But for every book on topics so grave there were at least as many others that were much less weighty. After a couple of hours of browsing Eric and Jill came back with quite a load. Eric got some things for his art studies and Jill found a reprint of what is purported to be the very first cook book ever published – from the 1400′s I think.

After paying up we were on our way back to the Metroplex, sure that we would return some time.

Booked Up – The Destination

After we got done with the drive (details below) we rolled into the center of Archer City, took a left and arrived at our destination in little more than a block. Archer City is a tiny town. I think the”welcome to” sign set the population at 1,851 but I wonder just how much of Archer County that includes. As you can see here, crossing the main drag posed about as much risk to life and limb as brushing your teeth. To really appreciate a book store like Booked Up you have to learn at least a little about Larry McMurtry.

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McMurtry is a prolific author that many people in my generation and younger have probably not heard much about. A few of his more famous works resulted in feature films and mini-series like Terms of Endearment, The Last Picture Show and Lonesome Dove among others. McMurtry grew up in Archer City and after achieving fame and fortune returned for a time to open Booked Up. You get the idea from reading the signs posted about that he has become mostly an absentee landlord in recent years, spending significantly less time there than he once did. Still, the place has his imprint all over it. There are framed items from friends and family lying about, type-up and hand-annotated signs and notes here and there and even some CDs for sale by his son James. It’s the same feeling you get visiting the home of a grandparent. There’s a little bit of their lives and those of their loved ones scattered all over the place.

Some of the more remarkable things about Booked Up? First, it dominates the town. There are four buildings in all, and though a couple look relatively small from outside that is deceiving. They are quite large inside and the inventory is enormous. Second, the place is run on the honor system – only building number one is staffed. If you find something you like in the other three you walk it down to number one and pay there. Third, the antiquity and diversity of the books is something else. In the older collections you routinely see books on virtually every topic printed in the mid to early 1800s. Finally, it’s just plain overwhelming. The breadth of what you behold is sharply enhanced by McMurtry’s admittedly “whimsical” way of organizing the titles.

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That whimsy is particularly evident in the lobby of building one where the really rare and signed copies are kept. I spent two hours in there crawling over every shelf. After about 30 minutes of browsing it hits you – you could spend an entire lifetime from dawn to dusk reading and scarcely make a dent in the place. In fact, you could spend days and days wandering the buildings and noting carefully what you found before you even got a solid feel for the inventory.

Whether it’s the product of genius, madness or detachment, McMurtry has really hit on something here. By not indexing, organizing or computerizing his collection in any way you are forced to take in the vastness of it all. You browse across things you would never set out to find, see things you would never guess existed, and learn things you would be lessened for not knowing.

Barnes & Noble it ain’t.

Texas Excursion – The Drive

Although I bought it back in October when I moved in to the apartment, Saturday was the first time I got to take my new Acura TL-S out on the open road. I went on a short road trip with some friends. What a rush. There was plenty of nowhere between Fort Worth and Archer City, and I took every advantage.

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At about 9:00 am I picked up Jill and Eric at their place in Forth Worth, which was on the way from Dallas. Jill is one of my colleagues at work and her husband Eric is an artist – more on that another time. An Archer City trip was their idea, something that they had suggested at one of Eric’s exhibitions last fall. There is an antiquarian book store there called Booked Up that sounded pretty unique. Jill and Eric collect and I have a few rarities on my shelf too, so off we went.

The road and the fences and the cattle all ripped by fast enough that saying “look at the…” was often pointless. You couldn’t rely on someone else paying attention for you on that drive. It was less than 30 degrees and bone dry when we left – one of those bright blue days of winter. That’s the perfect kind of weather to make a powerful engine work even harder. As I gave the car a workout the smoothness, the passing power and the cornering let me effortlessly push it to achieve what it was designed for. Joy. As I mentioned in my post Upgrading Everything a while back, this car is a superb example of just how far a dollar can go these days.

I can’t be certain if my passengers were just being good sports or if they enjoyed it too, but I had given them ample warning of what they were in for previously and they made no protests. If “enjoy the journey” is something to live by, I certainly gave it a shot.