The Trouble With Lone Stars

Since crossing into Texas, things have not necessarily gone the way I expected or intended. I already talked about leaving a wheel cover behind on a stretch of bum road. I thought that would be an isolated problem and not the beginning of a trend. But having been here a while now, I’m beginning to see a trend and I have a theory for what the problem may be. Call it fate, heavenly guidance, or just “the stars in alignment” - doesn’t really matter for this discussion. You see, any place else in the states, the stars CAN be in alignment. But WHOA! Not in Texas. Here everything is Lone Star. And the way I figure it, one lone star cannot be in alignment; it would take two, maybe three to get the alignment going, wouldn’t you think? So I have to say the stars are not in alignment here and it has caused some problems:


We arrived at Medina Lake (pronounced Ma dee na, not Ma Dye na as Bob would have me believe). This is in the hill country of Texas outside San Antonio by an hour or so. The hills are, like everything else in Texas, well, BIGGER. The roads are very windy (long “i”) as in twisty and convoluted. They have few if any guard rails and the ones they do have are where they are not needed and where they are needed they have none. I know! It didn’t make sense to me either. Especially since some of the drop offs are extreme and unannounced as you round the bend. Picture all that. Then imagine driving this road through the “hills” with a 43 foot motor coach pulling a Honda Odyssey behind it. Now add to that some fog -actually this is Texas hills so make that a cloud! Now throw in some rain. Add some violent thunder and lightening all around. Kick it up a notch with hail pounding on the picture-window sized windshield and you will have to admit, at least I did, that this was not what was expected for Texas weather. Oh, did I mention that the hills are blessed by hundreds if not thousands of deer who can show up and do show up wherever they darn well please whenever they darn well please. But not so bad, a freaky storm can happen anywhere.

Next realization: because of this storm we now have flash flooding. Manageable except when your camp site is under water. Ok then, find another one. Done. Let’s go down and see the lake; they say it’s huge. Well, the area where the lake used to be is in fact huge. Problem is the lake is down some 40 feet due to three years or drought. Put the kayaks in? Maybe if I can hire a helicopter to fly us over and drop us in. Getting out will be another matter entirely. The new brochures should advertise this as the Grand Canyon of Mud Puddle.

But settled in and rested, we make plans to REMEMBER THE ALAMO and head into the city to make a day of it. The Alamo. Where my childhood heroes Davy Crocket and Jim Bouie (that’s how he spelled it, not Bowie as he is known today) lost their lives in heroic defense of Texas against Mexico. A battle so big on the plains surrounding the Mission that the 4000 Mexican troops held off by less than 100 American loyalists had plenty of room to duke it out, without worrying about if the parking garage would be destroyed. Sound peculiar?. It was to me. I last visited the Alamo 49 years ago. It hasn’t gotten any bigger but San Antonio sure as shoot has, and though there is now a law that no building can rise high enough to cast a shadow of the holy ground of the Alamo, it really is, or so it seemed to me, too late to save the Alamo. The hallowed ground is now not much more than a bus stop on a trolley tour of the city. It hit me hard. I was bummed. For Marilyn who was seeing it for the first time it was a touching experience. I guess in much the same way it was for me so long ago. But the touching experience I had hoped to repeat nearly 50 years later was nowhere to be found in the gift shop that took over the battlefield. The sign asked those present to be silent in respect of those who gave their lives- it was anything but! I felt an urge to scream, “Shut up!”, but didn’t.

There won’t be any pictures of the hog races. The brochure said they would be held on the 18th. That, however, was an “oops” as they were held on the 17th and guess who didn’t get to see them.

Still, a nice day at the fabled River Walk downtown might go a long way to restoring the alignment of the stars. We walked the river and the shops and enjoyed a Mufaletta at O’Brien’s- it being St Patty’s time. Marilyn about choked on her first bite. Washing it down with a diet coke in a cracked glass was probably not the best idea either. So off to the boat ride we went. The seats are close. Too close. Especially to be across from a guy big enough to need most of the boat for himself. Now I am in a seat in a boat and cannot move- at all. Only moments ago I was in a trolley and couldn’t move - at all. When we did start walking again we stopped to help a guy who looked a lot like General Custer (never expected to see him at the Alamo) get his wheel chair though a doorway he appeared to be stuck in. That was when his accomplice hit me in the back and tried to steal my blessed cell phone. He did not!!! We headed home (coach that is).

Now don’t get me wrong, partner. There is some gosh darn, dog-goned, mighty perty, ass kickin’, boot lickin, get down and holler scenery and fun stuff to do here and we are having a good time. Marilyn reminds me of that if’n I begins to forgit. So it’s all good. Even if those cussed lone stars just can’t get themselves lined up!

The stars continue to stay OUT of alignment for our visit to the San Antonio area. Yesterday, as planned we finished up the taxes, proceeded to San An to copy and UPS them to our accountant in Maine. But on the way back to the "ranch" we got caught in a traffic "mess" when there was a multiple car accident at the intersection of 16 and 211, just before park road 37, the windy, hilly road back to the campground. We sat in traffic for two hours while one police car after another sped to the area. There were ambulances, and some poor souls even had to be air lifted out by chopper. (I guess I won’t be using tht chopper to put in the kayaks after all.)

Now I have always wanted to see a longhorn up close, but this is not what I had in mind, even if it does represent a traffic "mess" in the truest meaning of the word. Some times there's just no escaping the odds! But hey, being positive, it's better than being in town being mugged by General Custer in a wheel chair or floating merrily down the stream with my knees buried in an ugly guy's "fork in the river." Ah, the old West!!! Git along little doggie!