They say that beauty comes from within. The ugly duckling, complete with its tattered feathers and asymmetrical beak, possesses a kindred spirit of stunning regard inside of a shell that might leave much to be desired from the discerning eye. Well, I am here to tell you that Sonora, Texas, famous for one of the most beautiful cavern systems in the entire world, is no ugly duckling. In fact, its exterior is as beautiful as a swan, giving us a gift that has said to be impossible for generations… to have our cake and eat it, too. With its rugged landscapes that redefine “picture perfect”, restaurants that serve warm memories and reconnections on a piping hot plate, and profound, enriching history, you’ll leave this town with a full stomach, heart, and soul. Come along as we travel to the edge of the Texas Hill Country as it so kindly introduces us to the West.

Let’s Go.

Day One: A Time Capsule Opens its Doors and Welcomes Us In

We decided to turn our son’s visit to a friend out west into an adventure for the whole family. During the earlier years of our marriage, I traveled extensively for work and must have driven through Sonora at least two dozen times, never stopping once. It wasn’t due to the lack of desire, Interstate 10 was just a commute back then and nothing more. As our travels typically take us North and South, we were excited to head out west, a direction on the map that invokes a sense of adventure, simply within the word itself. So, we answered that call. We packed our bags, loaded the car, and hit the open road.

From Austin, we headed west on State Highway 29.

“Wait… what? Highway 29 doesn’t run through Austin, it’s north of Austin. What kind of smoke and mirrors show is this?”

Okay, okay, you got me. Yes, Highway 29 runs east to west just north of the city in what now can easily be considered the suburbs of Austin. In our case, we started from a little town called Liberty Hill. We actually call this place home, as we left the city center years ago to live a quieter life and start that little farm I’ve spoken about here before.

“But Brad, you can’t have a travel blog called From Austin when you don’t even live in the city anymore!”

Yes I can, and I do. Deal with it. Now, can we get back to the trip?

To satisfy the technical readers out there… From Austin, we headed north on US-183, eventually turning westward on Highway 29 in Liberty Hill (Happy Now?). After an hour or so through the winding hills and just on the other side of Llano, we came to the small and incredibly charming town of Mason. This is where we hopped onto US-377, then US-87 making a quick connection to Interstate 10 West. I’m sure I’d be breaking some sort of Texas Law if I failed to mention the numerous amazing Texas BBQ restaurants that line the sides of Highway 29 through Llano and Mason. Stay tuned for some future blog posts on those Texas treasures, but Sonora was calling, and we dare not keep that pretty lady waiting.

Once on I-10, it was time to set the cruise control at 80mph and kick back for some smooth sailing down some of the smoothest stretch of highway I’ve ever driven. In what seemed like ten minutes (about an hour and a half, actually), the exit signs led us right to our gal.

Sonora is a small town, so it was only a matter of a few short minutes and we pulled into the driveway of what we would soon discover to be the most welcoming time capsule there has ever been.

I was wrapping up some work on my laptop as we pulled into the driveway, so I didn’t even notice the exterior of the place. I didn’t have many details about it either, as my wife had booked the place as she usually does, and I never question her decisions. Trust me, I know better than that ;). I was the last person to exit the car and I was still in “work mode”… You know, that state where you’re a bit on edge and tend to keep your eyes pointed straight out in front of you, almost as if you had blinders on? I walked to the trunk of the car, pulled my bags and started my way to the front door. My son said, as he passed by to grab some more things from the car, “This place is awesome, take a look.” I nodded, still caught in a tractor beam, walked up the front porch steps, and through the door I went.

You know that cliche scene in what has to be countless movies where character one is going on and on about some random nonsense and character two takes hold of their face or shoulders, stopping them mid sentence, and turns them to look at what is typically a sight that leaves them both in silence and absolute awe? That’s what this house did to me. As if it were an elder demanding my respect and attention, I was stopped in my tracks, the workday just melted right off of me, and I could do nothing but stand there in awe as I realized just what I had walked into. Sensory overload is the term that keeps coming to mind, but that is usually used in a negative connotation, and this was anything but. Whatever you want to call it, I had stepped into the most beautiful victorian cottage, built sometime in the early nineteenth century and I stood beside myself in silence as it all started to hit me. As I slowly started to walk through the foyer and into the bedroom, each step offered one antique relic after another, and the floors offered their welcoming creaks and moans, just as the ocean waves greet the shore.

As I ventured from room to room, I was nearly convinced that I’d been swept back in time. There are simply no words to accurately describe my amazement with this place, and that quickly turned into a deep connection as this house and I became fast friends. To put it best, I would come back to Sonora for no other reason than to stay in the house. There will be much more to come about this house, for it’s the main character in this action packed adventure story.

The whole family instantly fell in love with the house, so it was at least an hour before any of us made mention of what to do next. We decided on a place in town for dinner, and after dropping my son at his friend’s place, it was off to a place called LaLa’s Mexican Restaurant.

It was late in the evening when we pulled up to the place. The map took us off the beaten path of Crockett Street, the main thoroughfare through town, and onto a dimly lit side street a few blocks away. At first, we were convinced we were in the wrong place. It was just a house with one or two cars parked out front. A little further down the street we crept and the sign came peeking out from behind a rooftop that had blocked its view… a bright red sign that read LaLa’s. I’ll be the first to admit that I was a bit hesitant to go in, mainly because it was an hour before closing time, and the few cars in the street had me feeling like the posted hours on the internet could’ve been wrong. I hate being that family that comes in right before closing time, but we reluctantly walked inside anyway.

After being assured that they were open and that we were welcome to have a seat, we picked a table in an empty little side room, just by the window into the kitchen. On the other side of the place was a bar and a pool table, and there was a lone patron shooting some pool as he chatted with a waitress. The place was quaint, and our waitress, although a bit timid, was sweet as she took our drink orders. Being a Friday evening after yet another long week at work, a beer was in order and an ice cold beer it was. It hit every spot. We ordered a small Chile Con Queso, and continued to peruse the menu. I decided on the cheese enchilada plate, the wife opted for the street tacos, and baby girl wanted the chicken quesadilla.

After another beer that seemed even colder than the first, the queso came out. It took a bit longer than most restaurants for it to hit our table, and we soon found out why… they made it to order. Rather than scooping it from a large pot that had been on a low heat for 8 or so hours, they made up a fresh little batch right then and there. It was piping hot and tasted so good. The chips were thick and crunchy, and most likely made there as well. So, to retrace our steps a bit and tally up where we stand… 2 beers and some fresh queso on the table? I think we’re winning at this point.

As we enjoyed each other’s company along with the yummy queso, a lady in the kitchen sang along to the Tejano music that was paying on the kitchen radio. She sang in a way that indicated she was loving what she was doing. The “whistle while you work” type of vibe was prevalent through each belted song. Our plates soon followed and the food was great. Now, Mexican food restaurants throughout Texas have considerable competition, and the market is quite saturated so, while this food might not have been the best of the best, it was damn fine and it felt as if we were in the house of someone’s sweet abuela somewhere in Old Mexico, and she’d just cooked a delicious meal, just for us.

With full bellies, we emerged victoriously from the restaurant and the dark, empty street emphasized that recent feeling of being in Old Mexico. We slowly strolled back to our car as we took it all in a bit more, hopped in, and headed back to the house. There wasn’t much activity once we arrived a few short minutes later. Tired from the week, the road, and the hearty meal, it was time to get ready for liftoff to a place called dreamland. Just as quickly as we hit our beds, sleep quickly came calling.

Day Two: The Beauty Within

I awoke from my slumber in such a peaceful state. The old house acted like a warm blanket and had the most calming effect on me. I have a pretty stringent morning routine, and it’s of a wholesome discipline, so I rarely stray from it in any way, but this morning was an exception. Before I dove into said routine, I sleepily wandered the house, stopping at almost every picture on the wall, trinket on the shelf, and furniture throughout the house. I thumbed through a few of the books that sat patiently on the coffee table in the family room, made some coffee, and then got moving about my morning. With the routine soon behind me, I switched right back into my obsession with the house. I sat in the family room for a bit as I dove a bit deeper into one of the books I had my eye on from my earlier case of wanderlust.

As the wife and baby girl got moving around a bit more, it was time to think about the most important meal of the day… breakfast.

I’ve got a secret to tell. It’s an earth mover, so make sure you’ve got a good footing. Better yet, you might want to sit down for this one…

Six year olds love doughnuts.

I know, mind blown, right? Yep, they all seem to have a pretty close connection with sugar in any form, but their love of doughnuts transcends any and all previous notions of the definition of love itself. It’s an unbreakable bond… trust me, it’s stronger than steel. So, with that in mind, what do we do for breakfast? We head to the local doughnut shop, Snowflake Donuts.

The place was jumpin’, as they say. For every car that pulled out, three pulled in. This is usually indicative of a good choice in eateries. Once inside, we stepped in line and waited our turn. I love a small town, and for so many reasons, especially the close connections amongst the people. Everyone in the shop was chatting it up with each other. The patrons on each side of me discussed a recent hunting excursion, there were some patrons further down the line that were telling of some upcoming travels as the other family in line listened enthusiastically, and everyone knew the nice lady at the counter, who was the owner of the bakery. Being the popular place that it was, the selection was quite picked over by the time we reached the counter, but there was still plenty to go around. A dozen doughnut holes, one pink iced with sprinkles, and some kolaches and we were set up for a successful breakfast feast.

Back at the house, we sat at the old kitchen table and enjoyed our bounty together. I just can’t stop feeling overjoyed at even the thought of that place. I mean, we were simply sitting at the table, eating breakfast, but there was something so enriching about being in the presence of a place that had seen so much. It made the silliest little task seem like a monumental moment in time.

If you thought I was done talking about the house, think again. Much more to come…

With breakfast behind us, it was time to head out. We hopped in the car and headed towards what would be an epic discovery followed by the most surreal two hours in recent memory. We were headed underground… deep into The Caverns of Sonora.

A few miles west of Sonora, literally in the middle of nowhere, you’ll find The Caverns of Sonora. This private and sprawling ranch stretches as far as the eye can see and beyond. It’s a beautiful place that proudly displays every detail of every western themed painting there ever was. It’s beauty, just as those old paintings project, is that of a rugged nature, complete with sharp, jagged rocks, prickly cacti, and thorny mesquite brush. An above ground tour of the place would satisfy any adventure seeker’s craving for a fun-filled day on a ranch steeped in history, yet just beneath its surface, the adventure dial is turned up all the way to eleven and beauty takes on some of the rarest forms imaginable.

We waited only a few minutes for the tour to start as we browsed through the gift shop, located in the main building. There you can buy tickets for the tour, sample and purchase some of their delicious homemade fudge and other candies, or peruse the diverse array of unique gifts, such as Native American jewelry, Geodes and other gemstones, and the usual t-shirts and kid-centric items. The building itself is one of a kind, and looks to have been there for quite some time.

We met our tour guide, Joshua, at the starting point of the tour, just at the rear entrance of the gift shop. He was full of energy and had everyone laughing within the first minute or two of his introduction. Our daughter was the only child on this tour, and he took great interest in her and appointed her the title of Caver, and promised that she would be his helper on some critical tasks during the tour, as well as his added layer of security to help keep us adults in line. It was a cute interaction, and she ate it up.

After a brief pause at the main entrance of the cave for a bit of a history lesson regarding the origins of the cave, it was down some concrete steps and into an entirely new world. Waiting at the bottom of the staircase was a glass door. It was closed, and was laden with condensation on the inside of the glass. We then walked through the door, held open by Joshua, and each tourist let out an audible “whoa” as they entered the cave. I quickly learned why and did the exact same thing after stepping through myself… In an instant, the temperature went from cool and breezy outside to seventy-one degrees and about ninety percent humidity. I now understood what they meant by the term ‘warm-weather cave’. Joshua closed the door behind us, and further down and in we went.

I’ve thought for days on how I might describe the tour of this expansive and mesmerizingly beautiful cavern, and I’m still unsure of how to proceed. Imagine for a second that you’d been abducted by aliens and you were tasked with describing your experience in words. The ship, the aliens themselves, the language, the probing… okay, forgive me for that last one, but I’ve read the stories ;). Anyways, that’s about how I feel trying to do this cave any justice as I write about it. So, that being said, all I can say is that there are probably very few accessible places on this entire planet where such unique and unimaginable beauty exists. The ways in which these formations came to be, over the course of millions of years, seem to defy every ounce of logic, at least for a simple mind such as mine. I could write for hours about all that I saw and learned, but it would never carry the immensity that the personal experience did. This cave has a soul. It is quite literally a living thing. “Active” is the term that is used but it is indeed alive and you feel every bit of this when you’re inside of it. I keep referencing the Pinocchio scene where they’re inside the whale, and you can see the “walls” of the whale moving as it breathed. This cave carried a very similar vibe throughout the tour, and I would highly recommend you put this place on your bucket list. As I am sure my words fail to come even close to capturing this adventure, these pictures also lack the ability to accurately convey the beauty of these formations. BUT, here they are anyways. See you on the other side of the onslaught (Jeopardy music begins)…

I took close to a hundred photos, and I probably captured one millionth of all that is to be captured inside this cave, most likely even less than that. As Joshua said, and he is absolutely right, you could tour this cave every day of the rest of your life and not even come close to seeing everything it had to offer. I hope, at the very least, that these photos have inspired you to put this place on your list of destinations to visit soon. If not, there’s obviously no pleasing you ;).

Once back above ground, Joshua had a special merit badge for my baby girl… a giant peacock feather and a couple of small gemstones that included a canvas bag for her to collect all of her treasures in throughout our traveling adventures. He was an incredible tour guide, so ask for him by name when you go!

We did a quick lap through the gift shop again, bought some bright patterned socks (So? I collect socks. Don’t judge me.), and left this life changing place in the rearview mirror.

We were about half a mile down the road when two things happened…

One, the adrenaline of the tour wore off and we realized just how exhausting a two hour cave tour that traversed up and down almost four hundred stair steps could be. And two, we realized just how much of an appetite said tour could produce.

We were now ravenous, and I hit the overdrive as we headed back to Sonora for a feast fit for a king, queen, and a pretty little princess.

We’d passed by a place in Sonora on our way out of town earlier that morning called Pit Stop BBQ. It was an easy decision, as we were hungry beyond words, and Texas BBQ is always up for the challenge of quelling even the heartiest of appetites. The place was really small and very clean and neat. There was a lot of automobile racing memorabilia on the walls, and the staff greeted us with a smile. We placed our orders to go… I went for the 3-meat plate with Ribs, Sausage, and Brisket, momma went for the turkey plate, and baby girl wanted potato salad. We sat at an empty table as we waited for our food, and were mostly silent as the fatigue kept creeping in. Our order was brought to us by yet another friendly staff member, and it was now a race to see how fast we could get back to the house.

We arrived at the house about one minute later, no joke. No, we weren’t speeding through town like maniacs, it just so happened that the house was a minute away. We again sat at the table and feasted on some really tasty BBQ. I later read one of the reviews of the place and it read “Grandpa-Style BBQ”. I think that they meant that as a compliment, or at least I hope they did, because it truly reminded me of the BBQ I was accustomed to eating as a kid. You see, Texas BBQ has become quite the lucrative and saturated industry and, although most if it is beyond delicious, I sometimes feel that many are trying way to hard to reinvent something that never had anything wrong with it in the first place. The craft beer industry has done the same thing with its Jalapeño infused IPAs and Peach Mango Wheat Beers. Calm down there, Mr. Brewmaster. What ever happened to a nice crisp pilsner? Ever thought of that? They’ve been around for, oh I don’t know, HUNDREDS of years!? Maybe let’s tone it down a bit, yeah?

Excuse me for the rant there, I must’ve blacked out for a second. I think you get my point. This BBQ was as traditional as it comes, and it was all amazing, across the board. Just as we did, you should put this little 1-2 punch on your agenda… first, the caves… then, Pit Stop BBQ. Easy peasy.

After the late lunch, we all retreated to our own devices for a bit. The wife spent some time on the porch, baby girl did some drawing in her sketchbook, and I wandered around the house a bit more and ended up in a chair that was way too comfortable for as tired as I was. I grabbed a book off of the coffee table and read the first few chapters, and then it was snooze-thirty.

Feeling rested from my nap, I decided to do some exploring outside of the house. It was a perfect day weather-wise and the house sat on a huge lot that sat alongside Dry Devil’s River. The old stone wall that lined the creekside was in unbelievable shape for its age. Whoever built that wall a long, long time ago knew exactly what they were doing. The rest of the yard that surrounded the house was just open land with a gravel driveway but I still felt like I had gone back in time. There was something so special about that little patch of the world that made me feel like my soul had been there before. I know that sounds a bit silly but, to me, this was so much more than just a cute little cottage in an old historic town and I am certain that I’m not the first one to feel this way about this magical little place.

Our cavern tour had run a bit longer than we’d expected it too, so we weren’t able to get to our second planned adventure for the day. It’s a bummer, but it gives us a great excuse to come back one day. Bet you can’t guess where we’ll stay! We weren’t too bummed in the moment, though, as we were still pretty beat from the day’s activities, so we decided to take advantage of the newfound free time and just relax around the house before dinner. I read a bit more while momma and baby girl enjoyed the outdoors a bit more. We had a couple of cocktails on the porch as we tried to decide on where to eat dinner. There were a couple of places that had been recommended to us, but the BBQ feast from earlier made it hard for our stomachs to get excited about anything else. After a while, we decided we’d head over to a place called La Mexicana.

It was another semi late dinner, at least for us it was, and, to be honest, we could have easily skipped dinner but that’s not a very adventurous attitude now, is it? We walked into a fairly busy place, but were seated right away. Our waiter took our drink order, another staff member brought us some chips and salsa, and we began to scan the menu. I noticed something that they had an entire section of the menu dedicated to the many different types of chicken fried steaks that they offer, and my senses heightened a bit. Not only did my stomach start to nudge me in the direction of one of these tempting treats, but so did my heart. My old man and I used to “hunt” for chicken fried steak. Every single time we ate together at a restaurant, we ordered the chicken fried steak. We always ranked them and compared them to others from our past experiences, and our extensive research revealed that it’s pretty hard to mess up a chicken fried steak. Granted, there were a few that would have been better suited as a sole on a boot, but those were rare exceptions. The fond memory of those times with my dad settled it… chicken fried steak it was. The wife went with the trio of enchiladas, and baby girl wanted chicken tenders. We placed our orders and resumed our enjoyment of each other’s company. As I looked around the place, I noticed a sign at the bar that read “No Wifi Here… Talk to Each Other!”. An instant smile came over my face as we rarely have our phones out during dinner. Another scan of the place showed that most of the townspeople there were doing the same… just talking to each other and enjoying the evening together. At this point, it had been about twenty minutes since we ordered, but we weren’t in a hurry so we ordered another round of drinks and went on with our babbling. About 40 minutes later, still no food. Again, we understood that they were busy, so we shrugged it off and carried on with our random conversations. Once we hit an hour, though, I started to get annoyed, but just as I was about to let it get to me, I realized that no one else was getting their food any faster and, even more, no one cared at all. They were enjoying each other’s company and, in the grand scheme of things, were enjoying a slower and simpler way of life than one can become accustomed to living in a big and bustling city. I quickly corrected my feelings, and our food came soon after.

The wife enjoyed her plate and baby girl was audibly impressed with hers, but mine? Oh man, mine was goooood. It was really good. I quickly understood why they had an entire section of the menu carved out for them. My old man would have ranked it as one of his favorites, no doubt about it. Plus, as a blessing in disguise was that the long wait had reenergized my hunger, so down it went. I’m sure the other items here are good, but if you ever visit, go straight for the chicken fried steak, just be sure that you’re not on a tight schedule. It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.

On our way back to the house we swung into the Dairy Queen drive thru to satisfy that sugar obsession of our daughter’s that I mentioned earlier. Who would’ve thought that six year olds love ice cream too? Mind boggling, huh? One dipped cone later and we were back at the house. I made an attempt at some late night writing, but my eyes were entirely too heavy. I crawled into bed with such a happy heart from the day, and drifted off to sleep.

Day Three: Courthouses and Cobbler

Day three started with some early morning writing. I put out a weekly newsletter for our farm every Sunday, so I spent a few hours putting the finishing touches on it. Momma and baby girl lounged around a bit and spent some time packing our things in preparation for checkout. Later that morning, after I’d wrapped the newsletter up, I stepped outside and noticed that we had been staying two blocks away from the The Sutton County Courthouse. I tell ya, folks, I’ve never been accused of being the sharpest knife in the drawer, but this one raises the bar in terms of how blind I can sometimes be to treasure that is sitting right in front of me. I’ve said it here before, and I’ll say it again… I am a sucker for a Texas Courthouse. Consistently located in a beautiful town square, they offer a rich history and beautiful grounds, two of my favorite things. Upon realizing that I need to get out more and try paying attention to my surroundings, I grabbed my phone and baby girl grabbed her camera, and we immediately headed down the sidewalk to this gem of a town square.

The grounds of this place were breathtaking. It was the highest point in town and was surrounded by a beautiful stone retaining wall. Giant, gorgeous oaks blanketed the property with their massive canopies, and the monuments throughout invited reflection as I stood there with them in silent admiration.

Baby girl loves to take pictures and has her camera with her everywhere she goes, so she and I enjoyed every minute of this quiet and peaceful little tour. On our way out, we stumbled onto a time capsule. It gave me an opportunity to teach her just what a time capsule was, and it was such a fitting way to end our time in Sonora.

On our way back from the courthouse, we stumbled upon this old fire truck from the Sonora Fire Department and I had to snap a few pics…

We made our way back to the house and finished packing our things and cleaning up. Once we were ready to head out, it was one last lap through the house, almost as to thank it for its kind hospitality during our stay. It was so hard to walk out of that door for the last time, but I have a strong feeling that it won’t be the last.

I know what you’re thinking… “Finally! Sheesh, this guy can go on and on about almost anything!” Yeah, you’re right, and I am grateful for your time… but I’m not finished yet! Oh no, I’m not letting you get away that easily. We’ve got one more stop to make on this journey, and it lies about forty miles west of Sonora.

Wait a minute, hold on… West?! Home is east of Sonora.

I know, but we’re not headed home… not yet, at least. Nope, we are headed to Ozona, Texas, and we’re hunting for BBQ… again.

Well look at what we have here… turns out we’re pretty good hunters! We’d heard about Wagon Wheel BBQ from some online reviews while searching for places to see and where to eat while visiting the area, and the reviews on this place were unanimous… even if you’re merely in the vicinity of this place, you’d do well to go out of your way and eat there. I’ll cut right to the chase and agree, whole-heartedly. This second generation BBQ joint, located in an old filling station, is a no frills, what you see is what you get type of place. It’s free of the high dollar storefront and barbecue pits; they let the product leave the impression, which was such a refreshing sight to see. Don’t get me wrong, the place is well kept and full of character, and the lack of bells and whistles only solidifies the confidence that this little place exudes, and rightly so.

We were greeted by what I assume was one of the owners, a kind lady that didn’t try and rush us to order. We ordered a wide variety of items… Brisket and Ribs for me, a Brisket Sandwich for the wife, some potato and macaroni salad, and there was more than enough to make sure baby girl got her fair share. Each of our meals came with a choice of drink and dessert. For dessert, they offer a brownie or peach cobbler, both made in-house. And before I forget, they make their own bread, too! We decided to try one of each of the dessert choices, took a seat at one of the picnic tables outside, and waited for our food.

A very short time after we were seated, here came the food, packaged in to go containers and methodically stacked within a large plastic bag. We were like kids on Christmas morning, unwrapping our presents.

Every bite of every single thing was delicious, and it was instantly crystal clear that this family had been doing this for a very long time. That homemade bread I mentioned? Holy cow, it was so, so…. it was just perfect. Fluffy, tasteful, just like they were made so many years ago. It’s almost as if I was eating history… that might not make sense, but if you ever have the pleasure of trying one, I think you’ll understand. The meal was incredible, and beyond worth the drive in the opposite direction from home.

Not being a very big dessert fan, I’d all but decided to save the peach cobbler for whoever might want it. As a kid, my Great Grandmother made a peach cobbler that was way too good for words. It was the stuff of legends. She’s been gone for over thirty years now, but my family still talks about that cobbler to this day. I’ve long accepted the fact that I’ll never have anything quite like it ever again, but the universe decided otherwise on this fateful day. I took ONE bite of the cobbler, and then proceeded to get up from the table and walk back inside. The kind lady was behind the counter, cutting a fresh brisket, hot off the pits. In the back of the kitchen area stood a tall gentleman, who was talking to an elderly gentleman seated next to him. They didn’t notice me at first, but once they did, they approached me as if I simply wanted a to go container or a drink refill, but all I wanted them to know is that I had just been gifted the opportunity to taste my Great Grandmother’s Cobbler for the first time in thirty years, and I thanked them profusely for it. Their eyes went a bit misty, and they thanked me for the compliment and wished us well on our travels. Before I exited the place, the tall gentleman stopped me and told me that I had “made their day” with my review. I thanked them again and walked out the door.

In full disclosure, I had to hold back my emotions while we were loading up the car and getting ready for the trip home. I was so grateful for what had just happened to me, and a flood of memories came crashing over me, leaving me in quite the emotional state. I quickly re-centered myself, and we headed down the road.

After picking up the boy from his friend’s house, we were homeward bound via the same route that led us to this truly wonderful place in a truly unique and diverse state… The Great State of Texas.

I have a feeling that I’m going to start sounding like a broken record as I close each of these blog posts. Hell, that may already be the case, but every single time I travel, whether it be twenty miles down the road or across the country, good experiences or bad, I find true enrichment and I return from my travels a different man. For so many years, I’d dream about traveling but would end up staying put as I was “comfortable” right where I was. Well, that comfort was just that nasty old man we call fear. Maybe it wasn’t fear in the sense of “oh my God, I’m going to die!” but in the sense of not wanting to be pushed outside my comfort zone, or to trade such familiar and predictable surroundings for uncharted territory. If any of this rings a bell, take my advice and get up, go outside, and DO something.

Thanks so much for tagging along on this most memorable trip out west. Stay tuned for next month’s adventure as we head south to a most enchanting city where an infamous battle left its heroic mark on Texas history. We’ll see you then!