Salado, I think I love you.
We are waiting for the elevator in a Holiday Inn located in the small town of Salado, just north of Austin. There are many things that bring people to Salado, including the Stagecoach Inn and the gushing creek that runs through downtown where people can cool their feet. As you walk down the main street, there are beautiful sculptures of cowboys, a mermaid, and of course, horses.
I'm captivated by the art in this Holiday Inn. There is a print of painting by Jack Terry, known for his cowboy renderings and a favorite of LBJ, the Bushes and other notable Texans. This one is called "Here Comes the Rain" and features a cowboy in a yellow rain slicker on horseback, riding through the rain with the kind of blue sky you can only see on the plains of Texas during a rain storm. Look it up, it's pretty special.
It's 100 degrees out and Steve and I and son number two have decided to visit Salado on Memorial Day for the First Annual BBQ Cook-off in town. We have no idea what to expect, except meat and heat. Armed with water, we leave our hotel room and head downtown. We discover we are too late to get a wristband to visit all the BBQ smokers stationed up and down a mile of street. I call the lady in charge and she says to just go and give a donation wherever we want to stop.
It's this kind of small town that is water to my soul. Kyle has lost it's small town feel, even though we are newly christened "the pie capital of Texas." We are becoming an extension of Austin as it seems to grow at light speed.
We park and begin the walk down Main Street. The heat at 1:30 p.m. is like a wide open furnace. 3 blocks in and my water is gone. My hat is in the car. We are heading towards hot bbq smokers and cowboys. I'm trying to embrace the day.
Just then, an elderly man pulls up in a golf cart. We have noticed the locals all have these to get to the BBQ stops.
"You folks want a ride?" Yes we really do.
We hop in and he zips off and I almost tumble out. I start laughing and Steve thanks this gentleman for the ride.
"Well, the wife told me I had to get out of the house and go give people rides."
He drops us off at a place where pieces of a high school marching band are playing under a pavilion. Not a place for barbecue, but we are okay with that. We walk to a white tent and are greeted by a family.
"Y'all hungry? We have some sausage and chicken left. And bottles of water." We try to give her a donation and she refuses. Just support your local rotary club she says. We sit down on a curb under the shade of a giant oak. Fortified at last, we walk back down the street and duck into Sir Wigglesworth's fudge shop. This is Ben's pick.
This shop sells pottery alongside its fudge. There is a wine-a-rita machine balanced on an old stove behind the counter. Maybe only for the employees? There are free lemon Jordan almonds as we wait to order. Ben is eyeing the fudge hungrily.
"What do you want, baby?" says the owner to Ben, taking in his big blue eyes and stature. "You want a sample of something?"
Several samples later, we have a nice chunk of salted caramel chocolate fudge.
"Where y'all from?" We tell her and say we came for the barbecue.
"Well, it's really just a competition between the firemen and the po-po," she says. She laughs joyously. "Y'all need to go down to our new brewery."
I grab my straw hat from the car and we continue our walk through "the Shoppes of Salado" full of Texas. I buy a birdhouse and get some free shavings for it and instructions on how to keep wasps out. I want to buy Steve a t-shirt that has the shape of Texas made out of gun silhouettes, or maybe the one that says "Where my does at?" But he says no.
We get some more water and walk down to the new Barrow brewery, where I would guess 2/3rds of the town are hanging out. Steve gets a Ski Boat blonde ale and Ben and I have root beer. Life is good. The results of the BBQ cook-off are about to be announced. We decide it's too hot to wait and walk into the nearby candy shop. Ben is really winning at this point. He circles around and comes back with a bag of candy and gets ready to check out.
In front of us is a boy struggling to count out change for his purchase. He may be autistic, and extremely shy. The cashier wants to ring us up first as he is taking so long, but a big cowboy steps up and tells the boy "I'll buy it for you." The boy doesn't respond but lets him. The cowboy and I lock eyes, and I wish I had thought of it first.
We go to visit Sirena the Mermaid, on her perch above the creek. Because of course they have a town mermaid. We take off our shoes and walk through the water to the other side, crunching pebbles in our flip flops and watching the kids in kayaks who are desperate for any body of water in Texas.
It's this kind of small town kindness that is sobering and gives you pause, and does your heart so much good. We go back into a shop I liked and I buy a long glittering beaded rose gold necklace. The kind of thing a cowgirl would wear with a floral flowing dress that most likely has lace on it, and boots. Cowboy boots of course.
The shop owners compliment me on my straw hat, telling me I look so cool and comfortable. "I'm really not," I say. "It's way too hot." They look concerned and a cold water bottle is produced on the spot.
We make two more stops at an antique place where Ben buys a Chopin album, and then to a parsonage turned into a bookstore, where two old men are holding court. I want an old copy of Jane Eyre, and the best they have is an 8 dollar Reader's Digest copy - fake leather and all. They also have about 100 crucifixes and Jesus statues for sale. It's dizzying.
Not too much later we are in the Holiday Inn pool, making dinner plans. Our choices are mostly a pizza place in a strip mall, a fancy steakhouse, the Stagecoach Inn, or The Shed - a burger and fries place. Ben picks The Shed, where we enjoy 1/3 pound burgers and tons of fries.
We ramble around some more after dinner, and then head back to the hotel. I find myself once again staring at the Jack Terry painting by the elevator of the cowboy in the rain. I would give anything to be on a horse in the rain at that moment. Or maybe just standing in the Holiday Inn parking lot in the rain would be enough.
It's everything good about Texas. Everything I love about my adopted state. I hate the heat and the traffic and the big cities. But the people of Salado are kind and sweet, and just what we needed that day.
We will be back for the big Scottish fest in November, because of course they have one. Dogs in kilts, bagpipes in a parade, and a wearing of the tartans at a special dinner at the Stagecoach Inn. I will dig out my plaid.
I'm captivated by the art in this Holiday Inn. There is a print of painting by Jack Terry, known for his cowboy renderings and a favorite of LBJ, the Bushes and other notable Texans. This one is called "Here Comes the Rain" and features a cowboy in a yellow rain slicker on horseback, riding through the rain with the kind of blue sky you can only see on the plains of Texas during a rain storm. Look it up, it's pretty special.
It's 100 degrees out and Steve and I and son number two have decided to visit Salado on Memorial Day for the First Annual BBQ Cook-off in town. We have no idea what to expect, except meat and heat. Armed with water, we leave our hotel room and head downtown. We discover we are too late to get a wristband to visit all the BBQ smokers stationed up and down a mile of street. I call the lady in charge and she says to just go and give a donation wherever we want to stop.
It's this kind of small town that is water to my soul. Kyle has lost it's small town feel, even though we are newly christened "the pie capital of Texas." We are becoming an extension of Austin as it seems to grow at light speed.
We park and begin the walk down Main Street. The heat at 1:30 p.m. is like a wide open furnace. 3 blocks in and my water is gone. My hat is in the car. We are heading towards hot bbq smokers and cowboys. I'm trying to embrace the day.
Just then, an elderly man pulls up in a golf cart. We have noticed the locals all have these to get to the BBQ stops.
"You folks want a ride?" Yes we really do.
We hop in and he zips off and I almost tumble out. I start laughing and Steve thanks this gentleman for the ride.
"Well, the wife told me I had to get out of the house and go give people rides."
He drops us off at a place where pieces of a high school marching band are playing under a pavilion. Not a place for barbecue, but we are okay with that. We walk to a white tent and are greeted by a family.
"Y'all hungry? We have some sausage and chicken left. And bottles of water." We try to give her a donation and she refuses. Just support your local rotary club she says. We sit down on a curb under the shade of a giant oak. Fortified at last, we walk back down the street and duck into Sir Wigglesworth's fudge shop. This is Ben's pick.
This shop sells pottery alongside its fudge. There is a wine-a-rita machine balanced on an old stove behind the counter. Maybe only for the employees? There are free lemon Jordan almonds as we wait to order. Ben is eyeing the fudge hungrily.
"What do you want, baby?" says the owner to Ben, taking in his big blue eyes and stature. "You want a sample of something?"
Several samples later, we have a nice chunk of salted caramel chocolate fudge.
"Where y'all from?" We tell her and say we came for the barbecue.
"Well, it's really just a competition between the firemen and the po-po," she says. She laughs joyously. "Y'all need to go down to our new brewery."
I grab my straw hat from the car and we continue our walk through "the Shoppes of Salado" full of Texas. I buy a birdhouse and get some free shavings for it and instructions on how to keep wasps out. I want to buy Steve a t-shirt that has the shape of Texas made out of gun silhouettes, or maybe the one that says "Where my does at?" But he says no.
We get some more water and walk down to the new Barrow brewery, where I would guess 2/3rds of the town are hanging out. Steve gets a Ski Boat blonde ale and Ben and I have root beer. Life is good. The results of the BBQ cook-off are about to be announced. We decide it's too hot to wait and walk into the nearby candy shop. Ben is really winning at this point. He circles around and comes back with a bag of candy and gets ready to check out.
In front of us is a boy struggling to count out change for his purchase. He may be autistic, and extremely shy. The cashier wants to ring us up first as he is taking so long, but a big cowboy steps up and tells the boy "I'll buy it for you." The boy doesn't respond but lets him. The cowboy and I lock eyes, and I wish I had thought of it first.
We go to visit Sirena the Mermaid, on her perch above the creek. Because of course they have a town mermaid. We take off our shoes and walk through the water to the other side, crunching pebbles in our flip flops and watching the kids in kayaks who are desperate for any body of water in Texas.
It's this kind of small town kindness that is sobering and gives you pause, and does your heart so much good. We go back into a shop I liked and I buy a long glittering beaded rose gold necklace. The kind of thing a cowgirl would wear with a floral flowing dress that most likely has lace on it, and boots. Cowboy boots of course.
The shop owners compliment me on my straw hat, telling me I look so cool and comfortable. "I'm really not," I say. "It's way too hot." They look concerned and a cold water bottle is produced on the spot.
We make two more stops at an antique place where Ben buys a Chopin album, and then to a parsonage turned into a bookstore, where two old men are holding court. I want an old copy of Jane Eyre, and the best they have is an 8 dollar Reader's Digest copy - fake leather and all. They also have about 100 crucifixes and Jesus statues for sale. It's dizzying.
Not too much later we are in the Holiday Inn pool, making dinner plans. Our choices are mostly a pizza place in a strip mall, a fancy steakhouse, the Stagecoach Inn, or The Shed - a burger and fries place. Ben picks The Shed, where we enjoy 1/3 pound burgers and tons of fries.
We ramble around some more after dinner, and then head back to the hotel. I find myself once again staring at the Jack Terry painting by the elevator of the cowboy in the rain. I would give anything to be on a horse in the rain at that moment. Or maybe just standing in the Holiday Inn parking lot in the rain would be enough.
It's everything good about Texas. Everything I love about my adopted state. I hate the heat and the traffic and the big cities. But the people of Salado are kind and sweet, and just what we needed that day.
We will be back for the big Scottish fest in November, because of course they have one. Dogs in kilts, bagpipes in a parade, and a wearing of the tartans at a special dinner at the Stagecoach Inn. I will dig out my plaid.
