Roanoke Island and the Outer Banks

Roanoke Island and the Outer Banks
June 24-30, 2006
Time exploring and family time, there are 8 children with parents, mostly that’s ok, as long as you don’t need a nap. When not spending time with relatives, it’s off to see the sights.
This part of the country has seen some remarkable events, the first English Colony, then early American settlers, African Americans, first as slaves, then a freeman, even starting one of the first free communities, the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk, this area is rich in it’s history, from its lighthouses, marsh lands,kite flying, wildlife, restaurants, abundant seafood and industrially, shops of all kinds, the beach, deep sea fishing, and putt-putt golf, even a couple of micro-breweries.
I was fascinated by the weather station at Manteo, having read ‘blue highways”, this is were the author was hanging out on the dock, and was asked if he wanted to go on a fishing boat. So I wanted to check it out. There are not many fishing boats here now, it’s a bit upscale, but to the south on Rt. 345 to Wanchese, there is a healthy industrial fishing fleet, and a community of working class folks, while checking out the docks, then driving around the area, guys at the end of their day, drinking beers outside around their trucks shotting the breeze.
The Manteo Weather Station on Roanoke Island is dedicated to Alpheus W. Drinkwater 1875-1962, weatherman, telegrapher, wreck commissioner, the US Weather Bureau once used the coastal warning display tower to fly flags to warm mariners of wind shifts or approaching storms. On Nov. 10, 1904, the Weather Bureau established this station, putting Drinkwater in his role as telegraph operator, he was the logalical choice for weatherman. He is also noted as for sending the news of the Wright Brothers. Beyond the symbolic colors and sharps that told a rainy day or flood tides of a northwesterly, weather flags when flown in various combinations of shapes and colors, signaled that it was time to take in the laundry or to set the fishing nets, part of everyday life. At night, two red and one white signal lights flashed storm warnings. The Manteo weather tower is believed to be one of five towers still in use, and may be the only one with all of its original signal lights affixed.
“Cross the creek and you will find safe haven”.
The Outer Banks were home to many African Americans, communities and family have been a significant part of coastal tradition, they fished the waters of the sea and sound, piloted ships around the dangerous shoals and though the narrow channels of the waterways and safe guarded the coast for hundreds of years. Most of the first African Americans were brought as slaves starting in the early 1700’s. Up the civil war the Outer Banks islands had signifant slave populations. Many African Americans were skilled waterman, heavily involved in fishing, ferrying, piloting although the Civil War changed the lives of many on the Outer Banks and altered the demographics of particular coastal communities. Folks maintained a viable presence in the region. In fact Roanoke Island was the site of one of America’s first freeman colonies.
Even before Sir Walter Raleigh planted an English Colony on Roanoke Island in the mid-1580s, Africans had been on North Carolina’s shores.
In 1526, Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon, a Spanish explorer and slave trader led an expedition of 500 people from the West Indies to settle near Cape Fear among them were several slaves. It is possible that the first blacks to visit came with Sir Francis Drake in 1586.
During the Civil War Free Blacks answered the call to arms, en mass following the Emancipation Proclamation their skilled knowledge of the area helped the Union, they were essential area to will the war.
The freedom of a freeman’s colony at Roanoke was the first in our history. Time for change, no different than today and for all Americans to have Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. That’s true freedom to me, and it is Free.“This, at present is safe asylum in all North Carolina, and God is lifting the yoke, and soon I feel there will be a great rush of those who are held by the last firm grip of expiring slavery”. Sarah P. Freeman, a missionary, teacher, writing about the Roanoke Island Freeman’s Colony on July 8, 1864. Sadly after the Civil War the Colonies land was given back to the original land owners.
There is a micro brewery, Weeping Radish, and a eco-friendly Bavarian fare, open since 1986, on the Island, very good Bavarian fare, nice lunch of sausages, pretzel and beer, they had Corolla, a pale lager, Fest, an amber lager, and Black Radish, a dark lager Munich Dunkel style and a seasonal Hefewiesen, they were all good full flavored, slightly flat, yet the Hefe was the best and better bubbles. They use organic beef and work with farmers to buy fresh and local.
On to Nag’s Head and Kill Devil Hills,
“the sand fairly blinds us, it blows across the ground in clouds. We certainly can’t complain of this place. We came down here for wind and sand, and we got them”

Orville Wright, 10/18/1900
The Wright Brothers of Dayton, “from the time we were little children, my brother Orville and myself lived together, playing together, worked together and in fact, thought together”, the bachelor brothers lived with their father and younger sister. They went into business in 1892. Wright Cycle Shop, at first they sold and repaired machines, but later begin to manufacture them.
Later they used the shop to build parts for their airplane, on there experiments the brothers said “all the experiment have been conducted at our own expense without assistance from any individual or institution”.
In order to fly a powered machine to Wright Bros. had to solve three major problems
1) Lift, 2) power, 3) control, climb and descent, steering, sideways balance.
All things I need to do in life.
On their 1902 glider “our new machine is very great improvement over anything we had built before ot that anyone else has built”, The brothers made a thousand glider flights, many on them into 35mph winds at Kill Devil Hills, their record 622 ½ feet in 26 seconds
By adding horsepower and propellers at the end of 1902, the brothers had solved most of the problems of free flight. They began to work on the motor
The 1903 powered machine, their new machine was the promising, yet, now to attempt to fly.
On Dec. 13, 1903 the day man first flew. “Only those who are acquainted with the practice of aeronautics can appreciate the difficulties of attempting the first flight. Four attempts at controlled flight, the final flight 852 feet in 59 seconds.
“When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return”.
Leonardo da VinciLots of great eaties here, go to eat early, ot better yet, for a late afternoon lunch.
There is a micro brewery called Outer Banks Brewing Station, with great beers and creative food as well, their beers are Olsch, pale-Bubbha-bubba Hefeweizen-Hip Hop IPA-Golden Eye Alt-All Around Brown-Irish Breakfast Stout-Sledgehammer-Barley Wine.
I have had lots of great meals around the house, each day a diffent family will cook, chicken kabobs one night, chipped venison with cream sauce over toast for breakfast (sos),, BBQ Pork Sandwiches and mac and cheese, I grilled large tenderloins, mushrooms and peppers, and a salad of spinach, strawberries, toasted pecans, yellow heirloom tomatoes, with a cranberry mustard-honey vinaigrette, then topped with gorgonzola, some meals out, way to many options, checking out High Cotton BBQ today, would like to go to Awful Arthur’s for oysters, or Sooey’s BBQ & Rib Shack, on an evening drive, all the lots were full and the smells delightful.
A beautiful place, great for R&R, time with family, it fascinating to see the different strains and influences because of genetics, my sister inspects our baby toes, the last little one, we apparently have a passed on a mutation, turned-in pinky toes, some of us with web toes. A very special place to land for a week, and good healing time catching up with the past, securing relations for today, and enjoying the future generations.
Off to Beaufort for see the Tall Ships on Saturday, then inland to the Mountains and then north.

Bat Cave, to the Atlantic

>
Starting the day in Frankin, a bit worn from the push to get to Nags Head by the 24th for a needed visit with family, I had lost my sister Donna Marie in December 05, after her two year battle with cancer, she was 51 years of age, a sweetheart, loving mother, and friend, her four children will be in Nag’s Head, I was only able to be with her one time before she passed, because of my stuff, we had lots of calls, still its not like being there, she lived in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
So it’s important to make time, I am one day away. I have enjoyed the south, but need to spend more time down here, eating BBQ and drinking sweet tea, but on the rest of my trip, I will not push like I have.
I have a good breakfast at the City Restaurant in Frankin, biscuits, all types, I lose an hour to a regional time change, get started about 11:30 am.
Taking Hwy 64E.
In Highlands, there are lots of folks, shops, weekend stuff to do, I wish to get though town, taking to back roads will lead you though town, not around it, I take my medicine.
Lots of fruit and vegetable stands, pass Brevard, Cashiers, down 8% grade, northward to Bat Cave and the Chimney Rock area, need more time.
Bat Cave, after hiking a mile up a steep trail through a mature hardwood forest, you will be rewarded with Bat Cave’s natural air conditioning: a cool moist draft that constantly pours out of vents on the side of the large cave. Bat Cave is the largest known granite fissure cave in North America. The main chamber is a dark cathedral more than 300 feet long and approximately 85 feet high. Fissure caves are formed by rock splits, boulder movements, and other motions of the earth, while most other caves are formed by water dissolving and abrading rock.
While seeing this impressive cave opening is the attraction for most visitors, the rugged slopes around Bat Cave contain an equally important array of habitats and creatures. Hickory Nut Gorge is cloaked in cove hardwood forest, while Carolina hemlock and chestnut oak forest are found on the cliff tops and ridgeline. The forests harbor a number of threatened or endangered plants, such as broadleaf coreopsis and Carey’s saxifrage. The preserve has an abundance of spring wildflowers, including bloodroot, toothwort, trillium, and violets.
There is a Nature Conservancy, one of their goals in managing this preserve is to reestablish the critically endangered Indiana bat to its former habitat. The cave itself is closed to visitation at all times and the preserve is closed from October to mid-April in an effort to allow the bats to hibernate undisturbed. If bats are disturbed during hibernation, they fly around and quickly use up the stored energy that they need to survive the winter. Three previously undescribed invertebrates -- a spider, a millipede, and an amphipod -- also live in the cave and are specially adapted to survive without sunlight and with a limited food supply. In warm months, you may see the crevice salamander sunning on exposed rocks.
In 1981, Margaret Flinsch began making gifts of undivided interest in the Bat Cave natural area to The Nature Conservancy. The preserve is now co-owned by Mrs. Flinsch and The Nature Conservancy. The Flinsches had owned the property since the 1920s. Invasive species such as tree-of-heaven, multiflora rose, Japanese grass, wineberry, and Japanese honeysuckle threaten the preserve’s native plants. North Carolina Chapter staff and volunteers are battling these exotic plants through the invasive species program.
Down to Rutherfordton, my intent was to take Hwy 64 the whole way, but instead, I take Hwy 74E to Shelby, 18N for a short time, Hwy 150E, where it starts to rain, Hard. I spot another Honda Insight the third one seen this trip. Going over Charlotte, traffic slipping out, it’s Friday, then pass Lincolnton, severe thunderstorm warning, we do not get storms like this in the NW, 152E to Chinaville, I stop at a real service station, gas, a garage and a mechanic, too. What a novelty, this is North Carolina, car racing and cars still revered. Who is #88?
They tell me about Gary’s BBQ, great plate of Pulled Pork, and Smoked Chicken, with white cabbage slaw, vinegar dressing,, French Fries and Hush Puppies, tomato and lettuce on the side, with a big dollop of Mayo, the Best Banana Pudding in the state and Sweet Tea, $7.75, I tell the staff and owner, there prices are to low, don’t tell the locals she says, then they will complain. I leave quickly.
The storm has caught me again. Thunder and Lighting all around, wipers on high, visibility poor, large puddles, lucky for me, not many people driving.
Hwy 52E pass Gold Hill, then 49E pass Asheboro, back toHwy 64E, then 421E, 64 goes into the Durham area.
Stopping in Dunn for a needed night’s rest at a motel, I ask the clerk if they have Wi-Fi, she asks “what’s that?” I type a report, will post later. Louis Black is on the tube, good laughs.
61.5 mpg/ 353 miles traveled

Hwy 64, is an east-west United States highway that runs for 2,326 miles (3,743 km) from eastern North Carolina to just southwest of the Four Corners in northeast Arizona , this road runs the entire width of this scenic state, this road starts 4 miles west of Ranger, North Carolina and ends at Manteo not sure about total miles.

Waking in Dunn, North Carolina for a lazy drive to the Atlantic Ocean and Nag’s Head.
Take Hwy 55E then 13N, pass farm lands of tobacco, corn and soybeans, tractors on the road, toward Goldsboro, rated as “One of America Best Cities in 1993” , taking
70E south of the city, missing a turnoff, I turn on 903N through the town of LaGrange, as much as Goldsboro is so livable, the downtown in this small rural farm town is mostly vacant storefronts, were owning a small business may be a thing on the past in this area, so close, yet so far away. Pass Snow Hill to Alt. 264 E around Greenville, to 264E, then following the river basin pass the turn off for Historic Bath, incorporated in 1705, is recognized as North Carolina’s oldest town. Bath is rich in authentic Colonial history as the first county seat for Beaufort County and in legend and lore as the “home” of Blackbeard the Pirate when he was not threatening commerce on the high seas, must come back to explore, they call this the Albemarle Highway, pass New Holland, Engelhard into Dare County, famous for the Lost Colony, back on Hwy 64, pass the fishing village of Manteo, this town is mentioned in the book “Blue Highways”, on to Nag’s Head, saying hello to seagulls and pelicans fishing near the bridge.
More on the area, later. Family Time!

60.1/ 251.6 miles traveled

Hills of Tennessee to the Great Smokey Mountains

Into the Great Smokey Mountains
Waynesboro, Tennessee to Frankin, North Carolina
So many roads, here’s the log, then the story:
Tenn. 64E, to Winchester, then 50W to Lynchburg & Jack Daniels, 50W back to Winchester, 64E to Tracy City, 56N to 399E, pass Gruetle-Laager, hwy 8E down the Cumberland Plateau to Dunlap, along the Sequatchie River to Pikeville, down 30E across the Tennessee River to Decatur, up the foothills to Athens, 39E to Hwy 165E, the Cherohala Scenic Skyway, into North Carolina, Rt. 143E, a bit to eat in Robbinsville, with many loops around this old mill town, many loops to leave also, they need a special map just for this town, though Stecoah, and a twisty, turny late evening ride on Hwy 28 S to Frankin.
Waking up in rural Tennessee, after a great drive though Mississippi and Alabama, up the Natchez Trace.
Log cabins, fruit stands, churches, small rural towns struggling to get by, poor country folks with an economy that’s moving elsewhere, folks making money on there treasures, your antique,
shops shattered on most roads, pass Good Hope Primitive Church and homemade crackin’, rolling hills to farm country, cornfields for miles.
“Give me cornbread when I am hungry, corn whiskey when I am dry”.
Stopped in Winchester for breakfast of eggs, grits and biscuits, on the dinner menu there’s frog legs, fried chicken, and chicken livers, the service decent, too.
Leaving, ready to pay, young woman on cell phone taking my money, complaining about her boyfriend, making change, it’s not the first time, this practice is very annoying.
I notice Lynchburg, home of Jack Daniels, back tracking on Hwy 50, pretty, pretty drive 21 miles up the into the hills to the distillery, this is a dry county, since 1906.
The employees get a fifth a month, let’s meet in the parking lot soon.
The tour was lots of fun, our guide very entertaining, he had all of us laughing with his stories, then we were sniffing the fermenting mash, even tried to sweet talk one of the light headed ladies into a walk.
This is the “Oldest requested distillery in the US” established in 1866. I am sure that other have been making clear liquid in a jar for longer than that.
There is George Dickel and Prichard’s distilleries close by, too.
In Lynchburg check out the Caboose Bar-B-Que Cafe, as well as lots of small country shops here, the café has good BBQ pork or smoked chicken, hand-squeezed lemonade and peach cobbler, they even have live music of Friday night and a live radio show of old timey music and broadcast every Saturday at 10am.
Back down 50E to 64E, its local election time, the sign reads, Mike Foster for Sheriff, “he will continue to give Bibles to inmates”, he should get re-elected, then pass the Bear Hollow Smokehouse.
The mountains in SE Tennessee are like fins, carved by ancient rivers more than 5000 yrs old, older depending on who you believe. This wonderful country with no straight roads, except the Interstate, but my arms need the exercise, and who needs to go straight.
Up Hwy. 127, along the Sequatchie River to Pikeville, turn down Hwy 30E and down pass the Laurel Snow Rocket Wilderness, across the Tennessee River, up the ridge, into the hills, then the Appalachian Mountains, then on to the Cherohala Scenic Skyway, take Hwy 39E to 165E, crossing from Tennessee to North Carolina for the ride of a lifetime.
There are motorcyclists all over these mountains, there is a rally in Knoxville, 17,000 riders. On Rt. 129 around Deals Gap the road is called “the Tail of the Dragon” and a favorite ride for bikes and me.
The views are spectacular, rich, layered, forested, clear rivers, adventure for all, the Great Smokey Mountains, fun driving, Skate and I enjoying the ride, up to 5377’ at the summit, down a 9% grade, way down, yet you are never quite down for another 150 miles, pass Stecoah, where the Historic Stecoah Valley Center is, there is folk, bluegrass and mountain music, dancing, story telling and ballads sing, other activities include spinning, weaving, log spitting, as well as local crafts and information of the Cherokee culture.
Time to rest, down Hwy 28 to Frankin, another road less traveled, I call “the Spine of the Southern Dragon”.60.3 mpg/ 381.2 miles traveled

Mississippi Blues

Mississippi Blue
Natchez, Mississippi Solstice 2006
Hwy 61, warm & humid, gassing up at the Chevron, I see a sign in the window, Let’s Stand-up for Jesus, then just above is a sign Natchez's Best BBQ, its 8am I go check out the smoker at the side of the building, Mike Smith is there, we talk BBQ, then he invites me in for a sample, BBQ pulled pork for breakfast, why not.
Of course it’s delicious, no talk of Jesus, but he would be proud.
Off to explore the Grand Village of the Natchez Indians, they inhabited what is now southwest Mississippi around 700-1730 AD with the culture at it’s zenith in the mid-1500s. Between 1682 AND 1729 THE Grand Village was their main ceremonial center. French explorers, priests and journalists described the ceremonial mounds built by the Natchez on the banks of St. Catherine Creek, during that period, the French explored the region and begin settlements. Relations between the French and the Natchez were cordial at first but deteriorated beginning in 1716 until 1729, when the Natchez massacred the French garrison at Fort Rosalie. The French retaliated in such force in 1730 that the Natchez were forced to abandon their homeland.
On to Hwy 61 and Mississippi, Birthplace of America’s Music, Yes, blues from the Delta.
Natchez is also the start of the Natchez Trace, 450 miles to Nashville, over the centuries, the Choctaw, Chickasaw and other American Indians left their marks on the Trace. The Natchez Trace experienced its heaviest use from 1785 to 1820 by the “Kaintuck” boatmen that floated the Ohio and Miss. rivers to markets in Natchez and New Orleans. They sold their cargo and boats and began the trek back north on foot to Nashville and points beyond, they also took what they could get for lumber in their boats. The swift Mississippi made up stream travel nearly impossible. Stories of settlers, mail carriers, solders, bandits, missionaries and opportunists paint the past.
Northward on Hwy 61, pass Fort Gibson, Blue cruises leave from here, pass plantations, soul food joints, cars with fishing poles out the back window, kids in the back of a truck, gesture to a trucker to toot his horn, he does, pass Vicksburg, onward to Onward, the Onward Store is located where Highway 61 and Hwy 1 meet in Sharkey County. Onward is a small Mississippi town, Onward became known because former President Theodore Roosevelt’ famous bear hunt was held close to here in 1902. A famous bear hunter Holt Collier and friends went out early to scout for bears. Luck was with Collier and he trapped and tied up a 235-pound Black bear. When Roosevelt arrived, he refused to kill a tied-up bear and the bear hunt was stopped. Local and national newspapers began to run political cartoons about the President refusing to kill the bear. The Cracker Jack Company and toy companies created stuffed bears called “teddy bear”.
Turn left to Rt. 1, towards the river, though farm country, cotton, soy bean, and corn fields, wooded areas, and the levy in the distance to tame the grand river, pulling into a small rural town of poor folks hangin; around, shade trees, in the south, its good to have the right tree, looking for soul food, I sky a place with fried catfish , but not open, I drove away wondering how to get closer to the culture, then pass the Rock of Ages Baptist church to Rosemont. There is dispute has to where the elocution of the famous crossroads are, folks in Rosemont think it’s in their town, then again there are 3 gravesites for Robert Johnson.
I stop at the Blue Levee for lunch, alterative folks here, moved away long ago to come home, everything changes over time, they are making a difference, they have a good Plate Special of BBQ Pork Sand, coleslaw and beans with sweet tea, and they have music on the weekend. The locals are keeping their thread strong.
On to the river, at the State park there is a display of an old still, even comes with the recipe on how to make moonshine, must go camping there someday.
I take the Bobo-New Africa Road back to Hwy 61, just enough time to go see the Delta Blues Museum in Clarksdale, an excellent collection on photos by Panny Maysfield of Juke joints of years past, Margaret’s Blue Diamond, Dew Drop Inn, Red’s Blue’s Club, Terry’s Blue’s depot Club and Ground Zero, which is across the street playing the blues nightly. The are remnants of Muddy Water’s wooden shack the one he was raised in, B.B. Kings Lucille and others guitars and tributes to past greats. In the back is a studio for young and old musicians, there are about 12 folks playing, organs, couple of bass players, four or five guitars, drums and a vocalist, someone is playing some great riffs, I can’t tell who, try to watch their fingers, his back is to me, a 12 year old young man putting it out, they are keeping the blues alive, players and fans from all over the world come here to the Crossroads.

As I leave I go to the Crossroads Hwy 61 & 49 to pay homage to Robert Johnson and Mississippi, with a new found respect for its people, struggles and the music that helped them survive and influence so many. The rhythm of the land, the beat of the heart, the swing of one’s hips, hard working by day, freedom to play all night. Working people’s music, the blues.
At the crossroads is a Abe’s BBQ, since 1924, great pulled pork sand with slaw on it and sweet vinegar BBQ, the stories these walls could tell. Listen.
In August is the Sunflower Blues Festival, it’s free.
There is a Delta Blues Map Kit, good resources, to order: www.bluesoterica.com
Its 5pm, need to make time, thoughts of Memphis, not enough time, Tupelo instead is my destination tonight, the birthplace of Elvis. I take LA 278 pass Batesville, Oxford, where the land changes from flat river bottle land to rolling hills, North on a small road LA 9n, horses, small farms, to Hwy 78E to a short ride to Tupelo, there is the Natchez Trace, its still early, 8pm, don’t stop yet. Happy to explore, a lot of miles today, the Trace is a gentle ride, no stops, stores, towns, this road cuts though time, its cool, there are lighting bugs out, Skate and I glide on the two lane blacktop, a heavenly road, hardly a soul on the road, it is were the voices of the past can be heard, if you Listen. It’s too nice to stop, Northeastern Mississippi, my discovery, as we slice off Alabama into Tennessee, on to Waynesboro for some needed rest. I must see and drive down the entire Natchez Trace, this is one on the great roadways in America. Next time more slowly and with more time to absorb its gentle beauty, then on to the Delta and the blues.
Miss you Mississippi.
62.9mph/520.8 miles traveled

the Good, Bad & Ugly!

The Good, Bad and the Ugly- Louisiana
Having just arrived in Sulphur, Louisiana, after finally getting out of Texas.
Some wonderful Kerrville friends Don & Frieda (Fork in the Road camp) live here, he is a retired meteorologist, she native German, they are the salt of the earth and excellent cooks. When Hurricane Rita paided a visit, they secured their house, weighed down the boat, tighten up and decided to ride the storm out. They survived the 110-180 mph winds, the sound must have been terrifying. A tree split their house in two, also destroyed other trees, and they survived, they were asked to evacuate, they choose to stay, free will, after the storm they went about cleaning up, folks that had left could not get back to their homes four three weeks. They were about to stop the mildew in their home, and take care of displayed animals, they say no one died in Rita, yet their were deads, the elderly, unable to deal with the stress, animals, the long term effects will go on for years. FEMA would not help Don & Frieda. Bad.And I had only a short stay over, and Don wanted to make Gumbo. I had to go!
Bad me.
Louisiana diversity in its people, the land, food, music and the arts. Driving to Lafayette to see my son Abraham on Father’s day down LA 90 E, Pass Lake Charles, on Sunday it’s Cajun music on the public radio station and French speakers talking about their music, in Mamou starting at 9:30am to 1:30pm it’s live music. Its nice flat, straight road, going though a number of small towns, there were blue tarps on roofs, quite a few, and debris, something stacked, sometime still clinging to a building.
Ugly.
In Rayne, Jacques Weil and his brothers Edmond and Gontron in 1901 came from Paris to start a business selling frog legs across the country, they sold as most as 10,000 pounds a week.
They say there are fours seasons, here its Crab, (summer), Shrimp (fall), Oyster (winter), Crayfish (spring). Good.
Lafayette, I am humbled and bewildered by their traffic planning, it’s too late to fix it, do your research and don’t ask the locals, they are equally confused. Bad
Louisiana Folk Roots present The Roots Heritage Festival every April with classes, music, dance lessons and the line-up for main performers looked like a good fun time. Their website is www.lafolkroots.org
Good!
The highlight was goin’ to the swamp with my son. A native Cajun Bryan Champagne, is our guide for a tour, he grew up fishing the swamps. He is an excellent guide, we were out for over 2 hours, he takes us to hidden pathways, at least to me, we see all types all birds: egrets, ducks, ibis, woodpeckers, cormorants, two types of night heron and a rosette spoonbill, a beautiful rosy color, and the bill. There were gators and turtles, apparently the yellow bellied ones are the best eaten, folks down here eat what ever they catch. In October it’s Gator on a Stick.
We went through a grove of Cypress Trees 500 years old. Weaving in the trees, bumping them, getting stuck in the little boat, the guide has to push with something breaks.

There are restricted areas for nesting birds, and on the other hand they do spray 2-4-D on the swamp to control vegetation, our guide said there are less fish know, then years prior, go figure. Check out a guided ecotour into the Atchafalaya Basin Swamp.
Louisiana has a bounty of life, folks knew their surroundings, and they need our respect and support to rebuild their state. Let’s not forget one on the truly special places in our country.
Catfish, Jambalaya, Etouffee, Crawfish, Shrimp, Frog Legs, Gumbo, Poboys, anything that jumps, moves, can be caught, is boiled, fry, cooked for days, it’s all good!
Their BBQ is a spicy voloute, whole shrimp with shell on top of bagette with stuffing,
Warm fuzzy feeling. Good!
Iberia Island, home of Tabasco, was great to see a solid recipe done so well since 1868.


When to St. Martin Parish to view the church and grounds, Longfellow's poem about Evangeline and the stories of the exiled Acadian settles who arrived in 1765 and found a mysterious, untamed land along the banks of Bayou Teche.
An Excerpt from Longfellow’s EvangelineThus ere another noon they emerged from the shades; and before them
Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya.
Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations
Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus
Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen.
Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia blossoms,
And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands,
Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses,
Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
On the banks of the Têche, are the towns of St. Maur and St. Martin.
There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her bridegroom,
There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his sheepfold.
Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit trees;
Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens
Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest.
They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana!


Sources: Brasseaux, In Search of Evangeline; Dormon, Truth about the Cajuns; Rickels, "Folklore of the Acadians."
Time to Leave, my son is going to a concert, I was invited, a graciously declined.
On the road at 5pm, out to Interstate 10, no blue highways over this baby.
Across the waterways, the Bayou, the Mississippi River, sources of life, to Baton Rouge then to take Hwy 61 north into Mississippi and the Blues.Into Natchez, Mississippi.
59.6 mpg/ 276.2 miles traveled

Dime BoX & da Q

Dime Box & more Good BBQ, June 17th
The Area around present day Dime Box, Texas was origally a Four League Grant given to Stephen F. Austin for bringing the first three hundred colonists to Texas. Originally the Dime Box area was called Brown’s Mill in 1869, after Joseph S. Brown it’s located at the west end of County Road 429, it’s one mile south of The El Camino Real, State Road 21.
Record’s show that Brown’s Mill had a post office as early as 1877 with Brown as postmaster, there was confusion with the town of Brownsville, so they needed a name.
Many people had used a wooden box at Brown’s Mill to send and receive mail and also request other items, leaving a dime in the box for service rendered.
A suggestion was made to call the area Dime Box, so on December 28, 1883 it got its name.
I first learned of Dime Box when reading ‘blue highways’ A Journey into America by William Least Heat-Moon, he writes about his travels around America in 1979, he went clockwise, I am going counter clockwise, go figure.
His story of the town barber Claud Tyler, he was an old time barber in a small town, his joke’s and local knowledge is fascinating.
He says that when business was good, he had a good a shop as any in Texas, he says that he listened to a million stories cutting those old squirrels’ heads. “Barber’s the third most lied- to person, you, know, Heat-Moon asked “Who’s first”, the Barber “Man’s wife is first anywhere in the world, Priest is second”.
Not much of a town now, rusty silos at the old train station, the old shops almost boarded up, people are trying, the Historical Center was closed, the sign said that they should be open, but said go across the street, ask for any elder lady, she made a call, and in a short while they opened the center for me alone. The fellow and wife , as well with other’s is keeping their history alive, we had a fun talk, the Community as a lot of Czech people, he even afforded soon local sausage, he said it’s ok, not thinking I was going to see friends in Louisiana that would of loves this.
I have noticed other sausage makers , too. Barton’s and even Dime Box sausage.
In town I barely noticed a Jake’s Bar-B-Que, open Sundays, Pit Bar-B-Que Brisket, Pork, Chicken, Sausage and Ribs, it’s Saturday. I was able to talk to Jacob Beran the owner, and a few locals hangin; around the shop.
Up the street the market I asked for help with the Historical center, I noticed local black men sitting around eating BBQ, I went back, I am glad a did, $2.25 for BBQ pork on white bread, wrapped in foil, let's just say I did not get very far before that sandwich was gone. Great Sandwich. Great Sandwich.
I leave Austin, it rained a bunch, it was dark in the morning, no bright sun, nice, when Oregonman leaves the state, he notices that Texanians and Californians drivers are wimps when driving in the rain, it’s nice. “Good lord willin' and the creek don’t rise”. High Water poles go to 5 feet, Skate could handle half a foot, try me!
I say good-bye to Bill and Janine, a beautiful couple, in love, flowing together and as themselves, it’s nice to observe, the sweetness of harmony.
I get a four shot latte, now we are talking and driving out of Austin, a take 290 E two lanes out of Texas, then SR 21 to Old Dime Box, then to Dime Box on County Road 429, then back to SR 21 to 290E then on to SR 105, trying to make time to get to Sulfur, Louisiana, and stay with friends for Kerrville, the ride is pheasant, the back roads are the best, 290 is a Austin to Houston connection, I go over Houston, only experience little traffic 45 miles out, pass Washington at Brazos, historic area in Texas history, Bluebell Ice Cream is the Bomb here, good stuff, over the Trinity River, thru Batson, sighs of shrimp and Bayou country, East Texas and Southeastern Louisiana, on to Texas 12, pass Beaumont, Texas across the Sabin River, smell of gas in the air, oil county, SW coast, on to LA12 to Deweyville, on the Acadia Trial, south on LA 27S, pass the Boiling Point Restaurant.
I pull in after a long day, and a day when I am not in Texas
back for a moment in Texas. Best B-B-Q the Planet reads the sign, ROCKIN'R B-B-Q at the juction of Texas SR 321 & SR 105, in Cleveland, a man in a chef’s coat, his shop is in the back of a gas station store and adjacent building, the smokers going outside, Ronnie & Janice Reeves are the owners, I order the brisket, start talking, me talk, he starts to give my samplers, and telling me his secrets, I share my knowledge and he of like mind, some chefs think differently. He is great, we talk for about an hour, BBQ, being a chef, the good, the bad, and he even gives me 4 CD of local musicians, and I need to keep in touch with Ronnie.
Did I Mention the Brisket was Heavenly!
55.9 MPG/ 365.3 mile traveled

Austin, Music, Food & Fun!!!

Austin, Texas, Capitol of Texas & Good Times
June 11th-16th
Arriving in Austin after a brief tour of the hill country and removing myself from Kerrville, all the new discoveries, am I ready for Austin, The Live Music Capitol of the World, sorry Portland. My host says we must see the bats, they are amazing, a beautiful evening after a great meal at Curra’s, we head to the river, the crowds have gathered, we go to the north side of the river, you can watch from the south side, but you are under the bats, feels like rain, just smells different, the bridge is a great spot, or in one of many boats. The History of Freetail Bats in Austin ... In 1980, while reconstructing the Congress Avenue Bridge in downtown Austin, bridge engineers had no idea that new crevices created beneath the bridge would make an ideal place for a bat roost. Even though they had lived there for years, it was headline news when bats suddenly began moving in under the Austin Bridge by the thousands. After the novelty of this unusual occurrence had worn off, the public began to react in fear. Many activists within the Austin community began petitioning to have the colony eradicated.
About that time, a group now know as Bat Conservation International, stepped in and began an educational process about the bats. They educated Austinites to the fact that they are gentle and incredibly sophisticated animals, and that they eat from 10,000 to 30,000 pounds of insects, including mosquitoes, each night.
The campaign proved to be successful as Austin came to appreciate its bats and even erected a bat sculpture in honor of this unique and spectacular mammal. Since then, the population under the Congress Avenue Bridge has grown to be the largest urban colony in North America. Up to 1.5 million make nightly flights creating a most unusual tourist attraction for Austin.
They arrive in mid-March and return to Mexico in early November. They emerge at different times every night, but the hotter and drier the weather gets, the earlier they will get hungry and set out for food.
August is the best viewing month, not only because they come out before sundown, but because the newborn bats (called pups) are just beginning to forage with their mothers.
Austin's bridge bats are Mexican Free-Tail, which migrate each spring from central Mexico. Most of the colony is female, and in early June each one gives birth to a single pup. The pink, hairless babies grow to be about three to four inches long, with a wingspan of up to a foot. In just five weeks, they'll learn to fly and hunt insects on their own.
Great fun, and Austin is a great small city, not without it’s issues, growth, their wonderful Barton Springs, a great place for swimming is becoming being invaded by algae because of development around the lake, they could use a better transportation system, copy Portland, it works, like Portland it’s a place people want to live. I would love to live here, is there 30 hours in a day? The older, poor neighborhoods are being purchased and remodeled, and there are some unquice pockets of culture here. Good luck Austin!
On to fun stuff, we eat at Curra’s Grill Monday night, everything was excellent, try the salsa sampler, my favorite was the roasted pumpkin seed salsa, and they have whole fish, too.
Our table eats everything, we tasted each other’s dishes, and the prices are also not bad.
After Kerrville, there is a review at the Cactus Cafe on campus, lots of known famous people got started here, tonight was one song review night by the staff and fellow musicians, everyone was clean, we smelled good, and we got to look at each other in fresher clothes. The music was with great sprit, and final good-bye’s till next year.
Grant, one of many new friends called, Johnny Winter was playing in Bee Cave, and at his age, he can still kick most (all) people butt, he did a Muddy Water’s tribute, his playing was out of this world, sadly his voice, does not have the strength it had, all in all, he’s still alive and well, finishing with Dylan’s Highway 61, ironic that’s were I am headed. Please Robert Johnson send me a message.
On my final night, I had an Austin night out, Jerry Stile’s, “I found a Trailer to match My Truck”, great fun country music at Artz BBQ, the ribs was good, the service, let’s call her Casper, they pay servers like $2 per hour, you would think, you would try!
Then we when to Jovita Café to hear Columbian music by a group called Cerronata, they were hot, and the dancers made you hot. We finished the night at the Saxon with JonDee Graham, he rocks, his gravely voice, lyrics and stage performance, we rocked till 2am.
This is the best town for music, we have great bands and venues in Portland, but we are infants compared to Austin. There are so many clubs, Threadgill, Antoine’s, Continental Club where Toni Price plays every Tuesday at 7pm. Get the Chronicle weekly paper, have fun.
The food I counted 170 listings for BBQ, 472 for Mexican, and there are other types of food, where to start. My favorite BBQ is the County Line, the beans are the best I have ever tasted, and the ribs tender, sweet, the sauce perfect!
Other places to try Salt Lick 360, Rudy’s Country Bar-B-Q and the Iron Works to name a few.
It’s downtown is full of shops, small and large, lots of eateries, tour the Capitol, you can walk to so many clubs here, you could go to a different restaurant and club in 365 days and not go to the same place.
Austin has a delightful Art Museum AMoA, it’s recent show OVER+OVER, Passion for Process, 13 artist, surprising beauty out of the mundane, using playing cards, pencil stubs, tires, road maps, dollar bills, marker caps, twist ties, and pasta.
“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons” from T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” 1917, he overheard women who, come and go talking of Michelangelo, artist of his time were more likely inspired by cups, saucers, spoons and newspapers.
Finishing out my day, there was a parade celebrating the freeing of the slaves 141 years ago called Juneteenth, all over Texas there were celebrations, and marching bands, Texas is a land of many peoples, with a rich history dating back to the Native Americans and even before. It’s in the rocks, the water, the food, song and dance, its weather and it’s a damn big state.
I do have to go, to wander once more.
Thanks Austin, I will be back, soon!

Leaving Home, Back to the hills of Texas, that is!

Leaving Home, Back to the Hills, of Texas that is.
June 12th
Leaving the Kerrville Folk Festival after a great Sunday evening hangin’ with my friend Renee. The final show, hugs & good-byes, we found one perfect campfire of musicians, including David Amram, one last night of song.
Leaving Monday morning, a Dirty Hippie no more. I break camp, say good-bye my friends, shower, collect my knives from the kitchen, say bye to the kitchen, too.
Back on the road!
I decide to go see Luckenbach, est. 1849, where the late Hondo Crouch said” People can’t believe we have such a big moon for such a small place”.
SR 16N to Kerrville, all is quiet, only the smell of Dr. Bonner’s Peppermint soap is in the air, our shower soap at Kerrville. Right on SR27E, the back way nice drive, with a few cars, pass Comfort, pass Buzzy’s BBQ on to a really small road RR473E, views of the hill country to the south, rolling hills of pine, cypress, pecan trees and cactus. Ranches with their brand over the gate of their property. Land of wild pigs and big game hunting, know wonder Dick Cheney came here to shot things their move, so much for empty pop bottles.
Rolling up & down, pass First Coffee Hollow, up the hill, down the hill pass Second Coffee Hollow. I turn left near Sisterdale on RR1376N, gentle climb , to my left are a group of dead trees, with what appears to be sculptures of large birds, cool, swing back for a picture, then there are a few more by the road, cool western art. As I drive back, I see a dead deer on the opposite side of the road with these sculptures, vultures eating it! Looking at the trees across the road, 30 more waiting their turn. Soon the bones of that deer may be someone’s western art.

On I go, Luckenbach, I turn right, instead of left to find large olive jars on this man’s lawn, they look artistic/sculptures maybe. The owner sees me, we talk, he notes my Oregon tag with McMinnville on it, and he has friends our way.


Back a quarter mile is Luckenbach, population 3. The cosmic cowboy’s Willy & Waylon and other notorious legends of Texas music played here, this opened the door for rednecks and hippies to realize they all dig the same music. Time we all grow our hair out. As a boy in Texas in the 60’s that was not cool!
It’s early here, 2 guys drinking a beer, what the hell, set me up. It’s quite the enterprising place now, variety of music, large beer gardens, BBQ, large wooden dance hall. Funky bar with pictures of the past and a gift shop to take your memory with you.
There are Lone Star Pickers on Tues., Wacky Waylon Weds., and Loco Locals Thurs., Friday & Saturday are dance hall nights. Come on down to Luckenbach were “Everybody’s Somebody in Luckenbach”.
Turn left up the road 290W to Fredericksburg, an old German Community, they are known for peaches, every area has its specialties, and here it’s peach pie and peach ice cream and preserves. In to Fredericksburg, quant little cottages spot the town, ranchers built these small cabins, so they could come to town on Saturday with their families, to be clean and ready for church on Sunday.
Lot’s of German eats and shops, abit touristy, I drive around, go to the local tourist info center, then on to Llano, so I take SR16N
Heading north to eat BBQ at Coopers, voted the best in Texas, pass Willow, again beautiful Texas Hill County.
Coopers BBQ, you order your BBQ at the pit, the cook cuts off close to what you order, giant slabs of beef ribs, pork chops, pork loin, German sausage, chicken, beef brisket.
They weigh it inside, put your food on a parchment paper, you can order sides of coleslaw, potato salad, and there is a large selection of pies and cobblers, too.
Big pots of beans and all the BBQ sauce you will ever need, as well as refills of iced tea, sweet or not, when you eat out, you get a cup for iced tea, as you leave you can ask for a go cup, where they fill you up for free. I like this idea Go Cup. There are large picnic tables with loafs of white bread for drips or to put meats in. I had brisket, excellent, tender and moist, German sausage, very good, and pork ribs, again very good, their BBQ sauce is more vinegary then I thought it would be, but what the hay, I am a tourist!

Lots of other BBQ joints here, too.
On to Austin, SR71E, slowly out of the hill country to the largest city on this leg of my journey. Its 3:30pm, I need to take Interstate 35N for a few miles, back to back traffic, 100 degrees, no AC, northern cars get less in trade down here.
I am headed to Bill & Janine’s house in an old Latino neighborhood on Austin for a glimpse of the city.
5,326 miles so far, my travels from Oregon, to Washington, back down the Oregon coast, California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and now in Austin, Texas.
55.6 MPG/ 214 miles traveled

Kerrville, between Time & Space

Kerrville Folk Festival 2006 May 24th- June 11th, on the Quiet Valley Ranch Celebrating Songwriters since 1972.
Turning onto the ranch after a long hot drive south from San Angelo after being alone driving down from Oregon to discover this very special place were music, words, voices, harmonies, singing and playing to sunup everyday, all types on special people coexisting, supporting, sharing, laughing, sharing outside toilets for 19 days, but everyone works hard to share for respect and burden on all of us living close, FEMA could learn something about living in the elements, which Texas definitely has, plus the joy of working in the kitchen 4-5 hours a day, 5 days a week, I washed dishes, did prep, got to cook a little, I know how to fill in gaps when needed, we did good, the on stage music was fantastic, when you though you had heard the best, the best music rises again, on the stage, the Kennedy Outdoor Theater, the large stage, the Threadgill Stage that has been remodeled, and on to the campgrounds were half on the camp are musicians, the staff too, magic fills the air, some sleep with ear plugs, not me, rock me to sleep with live music nightly, Sweet Jesus yes.
Oregon was well represented, Brian Cutean a long time piece of this festival, gentle soul, he had played at the Clinton St. Theater in SE Portland, and Adam and Kris, long time folk couple, now a celebrity odd couple featured in People Magazine recently also played at the Clinton St. Hot young guitarist from Eugene David Jacobs-Strain, recent Austin transplant to Portland Thad Beckman, great performer, delightful stage performer, I believe in plays in a little pub in SW Portland, GO SEE THIS MAN PLAY!

And Rana Rose of our kitchen staff, she works at Mississippi Studios, great voice and incredible song writing. Go Oregon!
Everyday there is music, from the Main Stage Johnsmith and the Asylum Street Spankers with Whamo of Austin Poet Slam fame, he performer in the Portland Poet Slam in 1996, the second day Matt Anderson of Toronto, Canada, great blues play, also that night Joel Rafael and Steve Gillette & Cindy Mansen of Vermont. Day 3 Jack Williams of South Carolina, suberp guitar player and writer. Day 4 Guy Clark, another Texas Legend, then Butch Hancock from Terlingua, Texas, find this place on the map? And David Jacobs-Strain, a young force to be reckoned with! He should be at the Portland Blues Festival every year.


Monday May 29th, Memorial Day dynamite line-up Django Walker of Austin, Bill Hearne and Bonnie Hearne of Santa Fe, New Mexico, Stefan George of Tucson, great Robert Johnson covers, as well as his own blues tunes, the Resentments of Austin with Jon DeeGraham, and topping off the night Sue Foley, watch out Bonnie!
Mid week performances are in the Threadgill Theater, named for a man that let musicians play for a free meal, song and dinner, please. Tuesday, this place can test your endurance, the FlatLiners with Vince Bell, Steven Fromholz and Eric Taylor, Wednesday May 31st Amilia K Spicer, a young rising star, and Vance Gilbert of Boston, great voice and fun performer, he played one night near our circle with Adam and Kris, Joel Rafael Tom Prasada-Rao and the music rained down from heaven, I went to bed at 2am, they played on, it was a magical night, sweet dreams.
This is where Michelle Shocked taped her Campfire release, she also worked on the recycling crew!
On Thursday June 1st, “New Folk Club 7”, a evening of former New Folk Finalists, the ones that did not make the cut, Lyle Lovett being one of them. No he was not here.
Over 8oo entries from all over the world submit their songs, 32 are selected to perform at Kerrville, from that only 6 are chosen then they perform in a special concert, my fav was Diana Jones of Nashville, and she would perform at our campfire, sweet woman, unique voice and songs with great emotional depth.
Only Day 9, Peter Yarrow and Noel Paul Stookey, guess? Peter has been a big part of this festival, and I got to meet him, everyone is approachable here, also that night Vance Gilbert again, Thad Beckman got everyone up, out of their seats and then Ruthie Foster, rocked the house, dust from the dancers was flying. Saturday Amilia again, opening was Los Texmaniacs from San Antonio, and closing was Texas legend Ray Willy Hubbard.
Day 11 Bill Staines of Boston, then Dar Williams, South Austin Jug Band, more dust, great young group and topping of the night the Austin Lounge Lizards.
Now I am starting to get woozy, way too much fun, way not enough sleep, did I mention the 100 degree heat daily and free staff beer. Like a toad, reserve your energy, I need a rock to craw under.
Back to Threadgill, Michael Troy, fun, fun, fun and Anais Mitchell, sweet beauty and voice, let’s just say that myself, George and Grant, my new friends, all of us older guys, were all in love that night.
On Tuesday June 6th, day13, I went to a motel for a long nap in an air-conditioned room, and I update the blog, sorry about delays or worries. Swim in a pool, called friends, a much needed break. I missed Peter Alsop and Dana Copper that night, sorry.
In the home stretch Steve Seskin and the Dreamsicles with a cast of many, great, great fun, with jazzy, funky music. Thursday, a group called the Work O’The Weavers, they cover the older folk songs, excellent music, and a great link to the history of Folk.
Back to the Main Stage, Friday night, good line-up not the best, still great anywhere else, playing were Carolyn Hester, Northern Lights and Red Dirt Rangers of Stillwater, Oklahoma, this band rocked, they would be fun to see in a bar.
Saturday Beth Wood, Darden Smith, then the Limeliters doing the great folk music of a past generation, Go see Trout Fishing in America, they play and have fun doing so, JonDeeGraham, one of my favorite new discoveries, topping the night Gary Primich.
One more night, David Amram Conductor from New York has been coming to Kerrville for years, with soloists Jonathan Byrd, Jimmy LaFave, Albert and Gage, Megan Meisenbach, Trout Fishing in America and Bobby Bridger.
With a small orchestra, this was another magical night of music, rememance of those that have passed on, on friendship, and singing, holding hands, hugs and tears.
David loves all forms of music, people and campfires, he told stories, and directed, each performer brought their own special magic to the stage.
That’s a little peek at the performances, there are workshops for performers, songwriters, teachers, a Blues Project that was good fun, Allen Damron, a important part of this festival for years died, there was a remembrance for him, I was told that there was not a person that was not his friend, a good soul, I did not know the man, just the work of this festival he left behind. You did well, Allen. May you find a special place to continue your work in the heavens?
Camping for weeks, people share, love and laugh, I met a group of fellow Texans camped across the way, they are family to me now, we sit, talked under a great shade tree, cooked wonderful food, there is more storage of great cooks here, campfire cuisine at it’s best. My new friends Renee, full of life & fun of Odessa, Joe, Shanna & Conner of McKinney, Bill & Belinda of Abilene, Wes & Mary of Odessa, Grant from Austin, Brother Tim and Nicki, Nicki is a hoot! Sharon of San Antonio Steve, Sally, Katrina & Tristan of Houston, Janine & Bill of Austin, Penny from Plano, Greg from Austin, then there is my soul brother George of San Antonio, we spent time talking, soaking in the river, having Apple Ice Cream and Pie for lunch in Medina. In the Kitchen, Stu and Carrie, Wayne and Laura, they also are board members with their heart and soul into keeping Kerrville alive for another 35 years. So many musicians, their music etched in my head forever.
Old friends Suzanne and Burk flew a 1959 172 Cessna aircraft from Northern California, I have not seen them in 12 years, you see people from all over America here.
Kerrville is a place between time and space, a place of harmony and love, caring and compassion, sing your song, someone will listen.
19 days later, I am back on the road.

Detour to Home

San Angelo to KerrvilleMay 24th
When driving into San Angelo, I turn on the radio, I get the Austin station, about 5pm national news, not much has changed in a month. Why do I get caught up in the world news, why have we not learned to get along in a few thousand years!
There is mention of a folk festival in Kerrville, I spend the night mostly alone in the park, nice evening walk, a wonderful park host Jessie Faye, more in a minute.
Kerrville, where the hell is Kerrville, I look on the map around Austin, no Kerrville.
Back to the park, Jessie, alone as a park host, an older independent woman, we talk, she is a hoot, left her husband behind, no divorce, she like’s living in Texas, her husband does not.
She is full of life and wonder, she needs a recipe for marshmallow icing, I get my James Beard cookbook out, and we are in business. When leaving Oregon , my friends Kim & Jeff give me presents, a 6 pack of good Oregon Beer, a pound of coffee, and a box of 34 rolls of Necco Wafers, my favorite candy, but how many. The car was packed just right, then we have the Neccos, my box needs to be fixed up, Jessie and I duct tape the box together.
We talk about food, kids, life. A beautiful person Ms. Jessie Faye.
I drive into San Angelo to the local library to post my blog, most libraries have access, so now I have a San Angelo library card. I post quickly, not much time, that’s why at times there are no pictures. I look up Kerrville Fork Festival, I need music, not sure about what Kerrville looks like on line, you never know, unless you risk adventure. Please take the risk!
San Angelo, wide streets, long lights, in the old part of town is Miss Hattie’s Café and Saloon, the café was originally a bank, the Bordello next store. The men would say they where going to the bank, then sneak though a secret door in the floor, then up and over the rooftop, across a wooden board to this “gentleman’s social center”. The bank would get a cut, the first franchise fees, at least you get something for it.
It was shut down after 50 years of business, there are tours, the food is excellent, Chicken Fried Steak and Iced Tea, it’s in my blood and the shops filled with western clothes, hats and boots. Everyone needs a hat in Texas. Boots too!
I eat and head south, my detour.
I am excited, I was one day out of Austin, now it will be 19 days later by the time I get to Austin.
South on SR 87, there are now Farm Roads, in West Texas they had Ranch Roads.
To Eden, the center of Texas, South on SR 83 to Menard, I spy a little Laundromat, a dusty little town off to the side, an old main street, wide with small flat roofed buildings, a few businesses. In the laundry is a poster of Bud Clark’s Expose Yourself to Art, he was our Portland Mayor, owns the Goose Hollow Inn, rode his bike to city hall as mayor, how did the poster get here. I talk to the people in the Pharmacy, small town talk, lots of time to chat, next door is a cowboy making saddles, he used to ride the open range, now a wife and boy in school, trying to stay close to home, nice leatherwork, we also talk spurs, Garcia spurs, the best are out of Elko, Nevada.

South to Junction, pass Cooper’s BBQ, one of the best in Texas, south to SR 41 E to SR 27E to Kerrville, South on SR 16 to the Kerrville Fork Festival.As I pull into the gate, everyone says “Welcome Home”
54.2 MPG, 242.1 miles traveled

Talkin' like a local!

Talkin like a local!
I recently meet someone who says, you only need 9 praises to talk like a local.
Please add more, we can write a book. The only problem is in crossing West Texas, you may only see 4 people all day.
Hidy-Hidy
How yew doin’
Tell yew what
Boy Howdy
Ahamajin (I'magane)
Shoot Faher
I’ll be durn
Fuck me runnin’
Whoo!
Please add more.
Like: Fixin’ too

West Texas, lots of it!

Across West Texas May 23, 2006
Leaving Guadalupe, up early, beautiful sunrise, to lazy to take a picture. The wind blew all night shaking the tent , I was afraid to get up, thinking the tent would fly away.
Back on the road in a hurry, too windy for coffee making. North on SR 62, pass Nichol Creek, looks abandoned, I make for Ranch Road 652 to Orla, just a road nothing on it, taken this route to stay off the interstate. No stores, no coffee, I lost an hour due to time change, my goal is to get to San Angelo, one to two days then to Austin.
South on SR 285, I drive though Pecos, where the World’s 1st Rodeo started. Most of he stores were closed, for good, heading out of town, pass Interstate 20, there is a Wal-mart, gotta love the low prices. In February there’s a Texas Cowboy Poetry Gathering here
Down to Fort Stockton, its hot 93, need a lunch before the long drive across West Texas, where the wind blows & blows.
Drive though town, looking, then back pass, moments later the place is packed. Steakhouses and Mexican restaurants. In the SW, I should take advantage of my opportunities, there are lots of cars and trucks all around this little café. The screen door says open M-F, closed Sat-Sun. The front of the menu says,” our food is made daily with authentic ingredients. This is a local hot spot, I got in early, at least for me 11:30am. I picked the right place, the place is packed, mostly Latinos, locals and me, the tourist.
The name of this restaurant is Mi Casita, owned by Adonna Louise Gonzalez. Sauces are family recipes by her grandfather Eliborio Pena est.1992. This is the real deal. The salsa I excellent with the chips, a good sign.
Everyone drinks iced tea in the south, I order the Cancun special, spicy green chile sauce and mild red Chile sauce over beef enchiladas, Spanish rice and beans, all to too damn good, then the bill, $8.28.
Two days of Texas wind, my journal says” Quit blowing please”. Did I mention the heat, only 93, at noon!
On to Interstate 10, a few miles to SR 67, Texas takes two pages in the Rand Roadmap,
On to San Angelo, thinking I can be in Austin in a day or two. The scenery slowly changes, only wildlife I see is the roadkill, pass oil being pulled from the ground, the smell of gas in the air, a pleasant surprise wind power, what better place then West Texas. Pass Girvin, McCamey, Rankin, Texon, Best, Big Lake, Mertzon, Sherwood, Tankersly and at last San Angelo. Little restaurants to note, McComb’s BBQ in Rankin, in Big Lake Grandma’s claims to have the best burgers, The Yellow Rose Café in Barnett.
The park host in the Del Norte Park in California told me they host here to go to the North side of the state park here, nice place, I am again the only paying customer.
The wind and going downhill must have helped.
66.5 MPG, 368.6 miles traveled