Last week I made a quick trip down to Austin. From Grayson County the most direct route
takes one down 75 and somehow through Dallas; and if you’re lucky it spews the
traveler on to I-35 South toward Waco and beyond. Many years ago, within 15 minutes after clearing
the Big D hurdle the traffic thinned out and it became an easy drive in the country. But over the years it’s changed. It’s more noticeable to old guys like me. Now it’s essentially urban freeway traffic
all the way only with more trucks. And
about the time you get to Round Rock it becomes an urban traffic jam, more like
a “no way” than a freeway. And during rush
hour the highways in and around Austin are more stop than go.
So, when I headed back north the next day, I took the scenic route, up 183 to Lampasas and 281 all the way to I-20 then to Weatherford and north on 51 up to Cook County and 82 back home. It takes an hour longer to go that way but it’s time well spent. Most of all, if you are Texas born and raised, it feels like it used to be or at least the way you thought it was. You understand that it’s changed, but there are reminders. The land, the animals, the people; the well-kept farms and ranches, productive with tight fences, new metal barns standing beside what’s left of an old wooden one. Healthy looking cattle and horses, even lambs and goats in some places. The biggest and best-looking places are mostly owned by wealthy folks from the big cities. They hire locals to do the hard work but can still tell their business associates they’ll be at the ranch this weekend “doing some work around the place”.
It’s not all good though. One can’t help but see the signs of poverty and decay. Less so in the Hill Country where city money and the old German influence make a difference. But elsewhere in rural Texas it’s there. Beat up cars and pick-ups parked on dirt yards in front of old farmhouses or mobile homes. Maybe a few toys laying around. Always some old tires. Maybe a lawnmower that no longer works. A dog or two lying on the porch or under a piece of farm equipment, waiting for something or someone to chew on. There aren’t many good jobs in these places. And it’s impossible to make a living these days farming or ranching on a small scale. But folks get by, legally or otherwise. It’s not pretty, but it’s also part of Texas.
If you are a recent arrival to the Lone Star state maybe it’s what you thought Texas would be right up until you found yourself stuck in traffic or living in a suburban neighborhood that just looks like every other suburban neighborhood and not much at all like Texas. But Texas is still out there. You won’t find it from an Interstate highway. Take some other roads. Have lunch at the “best” local restaurant wherever you happen to be at lunchtime. Stop and read some historical markers. You might come to understand how and why native Texans feel the way they do about this state. Just don’t cross the yellow line and if a driver in an on-coming vehicle lifts a finger or two from the steering wheel, they are not flipping you off. It’s just sign language for howdy.
