Friday traffic crawled its way south out of Dallas on the interstate. Everyone was trying to leave the city at the same time. Flatbeds, cars, and the ubiquitous pickup trucks were nose-to-tail for miles. My chest felt tight with anxiety. It was not just because of the dense Texas traffic. The pressures of living in a new city far from my home were getting to me. I needed relief.
I found it hard to adapt to my new home in Texas. The first few years were difficult. Everything was different. I did not know anyone apart from my husband; I missed my family and friends. The city felt confining, and we occasionally needed to escape. Road trips were the perfect solution.
My heart rate slowed as urban centres gave way to fields, and windmills mingled with cattle. I could breathe easier. It took me a while to realise the reason behind this calming effect. The Texas countryside looked so like the countryside of my native Argentina, especially the area around Buenos Aires, that I felt at home. I could relate, which helped me feel less homesick. And now, when we drive around the Buenos Aires countryside, I think of Texas, where I left a piece of my heart.
Unlike in big cities, people take the time to tell you their story and listen to yours. “This is a dry county. We started a petition process to become a wet county, but the old guard is against it,” said one of the former owners of the Matador Hotel in its namesake town. She added with a knowing smile, “But we know some of them keep a bottle or two in their kitchen cabinets”. To my utter astonishment, she said the lady across the way was a bootlegger. She bought booze across the county line and sold it here. This was in 2011. Motley County is a wet county now; no need for bootlegging or a surreptitious sip here and there anymore.
We met not only potential bootleggers but also Texas separatists, cattle ranchers, locals who were sixth-generation Texans, and recent transplants. All made us welcome.
None of my local friends had heard of Matador, in the southern Texas Panhandle. When we planned our road trips, we randomly chose destinations with an appealing name or a cardinal direction. Matador fitted both. Named after the historic Matador Ranch, it is a small rural town with a population of 569 as of 2020. There are a couple of attractions like the historic hotel dating back to 1915 and Bob’s Oil Well, a bold advertisement built in 1939 for the once-flourishing service station beneath it.
However, the main draw of rural towns is the atmosphere, the turn-of-the-century commercial buildings lining the Main Streets, and the people. Life moves at a slower pace. Stores close early on weekdays and all day on Sundays, except for a few diners closing at 2pm. Careful planning is a must when going on a road trip.
The Hill Country in Central Texas became our favourite road trip destination. The town of San Saba was our base from which we went exploring. Our hotel was centrally located on the High Street. Everything we needed was a short walk away: restaurants, cafés, and the best kolaches in Texas, in my completely biased opinion. I loved the old-world stores selling cowboy boots and hats, dry goods, and pecans. San Saba is the self-styled Pecan Capital of the World.
Local lore and history are a big part of the charm of towns like San Saba. One legend is that Native Americans here were wedded under a particular live oak. Although it lost a limb during a storm, the Wedding Oak still stands and is located about a mile outside town. A 20-minute drive away is the Regency Bridge, Texas’ only suspension bridge open to car traffic. Built in 1939, the bridge spans the Colorado River at least 75 feet below. We drove over it and then tried to walk across. As heights scare me, I took a few steps and started shaking… time to head back to the car.
Sometimes, a day trip was enough to reset our state of mind. Sulphur Springs, in Northeast Texas, provided a nice change of pace. I adore historic downtown areas and funky attractions, and this one did not disappoint.
Celebration Plaza takes you on an emotional roller coaster. The vibrant red and pink Romanesque Revival courthouse reminds you of the history of the place. Close by, the adjacent Hopkins County Veterans Memorial provides a poignant and sobering note.
However, the Glass Bathrooms of Sulphur Springs offer some comic relief. Their one-way glass walls protect your modesty and allow you to see what is happening around you. It is also fun to try to spot them, as the glass reflects the light and the trees, so they are concealed in plain sight. Functional yet beautiful, they even claimed the bronze medal in a nationwide restroom competition.
The dairy industry is an important part of Texas’s economy, and the Southwest Dairy Museum shows its evolution from the early 1900s to the present. Two Texas-sized cow models, one Jersey and one Holstein, welcome you. Everything really is bigger in Texas.
As we drove closer to town, we chanced upon the county fair. It was a great opportunity to experience the beating heart of rural Texas, the behind-the-scenes of where our food comes from, and the people who work so hard to make it possible.
Those giant cows were but one of many roadside attractions we encountered. I loved the Loch Ness monster made with bits of agricultural machinery near Lampasas. Or the giant spur that marks the centennial of its namesake town in West Texas. However, the Best Texas Roadside Attraction award goes to the Eiffel Tower replica (in Paris, TX, naturally) topped off with a big red cowboy hat.
With its sheer scale, ambition and charm, to me, nothing screams ‘Texas’ louder.
