We made our way to the swimming hole, and had to wait for some cars to leave before we could go in. Got in, and there was a 1/4 mile hike to the swimming hole itself. A "Clivus Mulstrom" composting outhouse was on the trail, we contemplated heavily on whether it was a person's name, or a type of spore-yielding fungus.
The swimming hole was nice, and dammit, once again I forgot to take my camera! A curved rock shelf provided an enclave, recessed, where a pool was at the bottom. We put our stuff down in the enclave, and Kevin and I climbed down the large rocks to the water below. It was nice, but had lots of algae, very brown and green. I had forgotten what small ponds smell like. Water flowed down the circular lip on top, like a trickling waterfall. Just under the waterfall, slightly to the side, was a cool scene, seeing the water droplets captured in freefall, landing only about 1-2 feet to the side.
Monica soon joined us, then Kevin got out. There were fish and even swimming turtles, it was neat being in a nature preserve area instead of a community swimming hole. I got out at some point and was filthy by the time I got back to the stuff in the enclave, so I went back down to clean off, hoping to be more careful climbing up the rocks again.
We then left, and Kevin told us of two interesting restaurants in the not-so-nearby area. We cvould either go to a place specializing in chicken-fried steaks, or a place with lots of pies. What a choice. Monica let us all know rather vociferously how pie-hungry she was, so we made way to the Blue-Bonnet cafe. It was all cowboys and families there, which was quite interesting. I got the chicken-fried steak, which I've never had before, along with some mashed potatoes and white gravy, fried okra, and spinach greens. Mmmmmmmm-Hmmmmmmm. We all split some cherry and pecan pie for desert.
On the way back we drove through the beautiful Texan landscape, populated by trees not taller than 10 feet, and shrubs. The others kept telling me how green this was, compared with West Texas, which is mostly brown rocks and sand.
Kevin kept us entertained with his stories of the tragedy of starting a relationship based upon the premise of seasonal fruit, as well as his theories of handedness.
Monica and I got ready to go to a honky-tonk joint that Kevin told us about, called "The Broken Spoke". Monica and I got there right at the end of a set. It was a crazy sight, compared to most Northern musical venues. The band was playing a waltz, and about 30 couples, most looking like cowboys, were dancing to a country waltz. They were gliding about the floor in a circular pattern, it was really neat to watch. Check it out.
We sat at one of the tables on either side of the bar, and drank Shiners beer, a local Austin favorite. During the set break, Don Watson, the rather-large guitarist, said he had photo's and bumper stickers and other stuff for sale. Photos were free and he would sign them, so I got one and gave it to good ol' Don to customize. He asked my name, and then wrote "To my pal Wass. Good Luck" while shaking my hand saying it was a pleasure to meet me. In response I told him "It was ... lovely". As I was walking back, I realized that 'lovely' may not have been the best word to use, in such a cowboy-dominated scene. Oh well...
Here's a shot of the band. Don's the feller in the cowboy hat.
You can see the girl in the foreground is checkin' me out. Good thing,
too, because it looks like her man is about to be done in by some sort
of arachnid creepin' up his back.
I told Monica I wanted to two-step, but she kept saying she had to finish her beer first. Three beers and two sets later Monica finally said she'll dance with me. We got on the floor to a slower tune, and Monica grabs my shoulders and starts flying around the floor at 2-3 times the speed of everyone else. I'm more focused on trying to dodge the other couples, but Monica's so focused on counting the foot steps she's yelling them out at the top of her lungs, so much so that probably even the band could hear her "one two three .. one two .." rap. The cowboys sort of glowered at us, and I tried so hard not to crack up, it was hysterical. Eventually Monica's Nitro-powered Turbo Supercharge wore off, and we were dancing at regular speed. We took a break, then danced to one more tune, and then the band was soon calling it quits, so we got ready to take off. I liked the sincerity of the place, from the broken-down schoolbus in front, to the old wooden dance-floor and country tables, to even the horse-trough in the men's bathroom.
Back at her place, Monica, Steve, and Grauer talked for awhile, but I conked out on the air mattress around two. The last thing I remember was waking up to say something about "American Movie" which they were talking about.
| Location | Austin, TX |
| Odometer | 132,063.8 Miles Total 3310.1 Miles On Trip 0 Miles Today |
| Coordinates | 30° 16.8' N 97° 45.0' W |