The Texas Hill Country, Part I

In the late morning we drove back up Mustang Island to the town of Port Aransas and took the ferry to the mainland for the second time that day, since we’d gone across just after dawn to make it to an appointment for an oil change. Coming across to Aransas Pass, we saw a whole flock of cormorants sitting on a ferry piling, and I learned that a flock of cormorants is called a “gulp.”

A gulp of cormorants in Aransas Pass

Then we headed north–northwest, passing through the ranch towns of Taft and Sinton, which were named for Cincinnatians William Howard Taft and his father-in-law, David Sinton. They had both tried their hands at Texas cattle ranching in the early 20th century. I am guessing that they weren’t exactly hands-on ranchers, but they did visit their respective ranches to see how things were going. The town of Taft is a small place; I missed the “Welcome to Taft” sign so I had to settle for a photo of Taft Donuts. Every little town in Texas has at least one donut shop.

Taft Donuts, in Taft, Texas. I do not think
President Taft ever visited the donut shop, but--maybe?

Sinton is a larger place; it’s about three times as big as Taft, which is just the opposite of William Howard Taft and David Sinton themselves. We skirted Sinton and went on to Beeville, which is not named after flying insects, but after Barnard Bee, who served in the cabinet of the Republic of Texas. It seemed like a pleasant enough town, although it has an odd footnote in history. It’s the place where the last American chattel slave was freed, almost 100 years after the end of the Civil War—Alfred Irving was freed in 1942. Pretty crazy.

From Beeville, which does have a beehive on all its signs, even though it isn’t named for bees per se, we easily found the east–west road we were looking for to take us over to I-37, which led us to the outskirts of San Antonio. We stayed at a motel on the outer ring road of San Antonio, to map out a path through the Texas Hill Country. We didn’t see the Alamo or the Riverwalk. Maybe another time. The next morning we took Texas 16 through towns with great names like Helotes and Bandera and Utopia. Around Pipe Creek, a wide spot in the road, we stopped at Snowflake Donuts for a mid-morning repast (every town in Texas, no matter how small, really does have a donut shop), then on to our destination, Garner State Park.

   
The Frio River runs through Garner State Park in the Hill Country

   
In some places the Frio River has water, in other places, not so much

Garner was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, and there’s a big dance hall pavilion that is still sometimes used for dances—but mostly it seems to house a few shops for summer visitors, including a restaurant and an ice cream place. The pavilion overlooks the Rio Frio, which winds through the park.

    
The overlook and dance pavilion in Garner State Park
was built by CCC workers in the 1930s

We walked down to the river in various places, and it does seem to live up to its name—it’s a cold river, but there were people tubing, kayaking, and paddleboarding. Air temperatures were in the mid-80s, so it was swimming weather, but that water was still darn cold.

Mike at the Rio Frio

That night was the first really warm night on this trip; although it hasn’t been super cold at night since January, the temperature definitely drops as the sun goes down when you are on the Gulf coast. At Garner in the Hill Country, it stayed in the low 80s well after dark, and I enjoyed walking around in the dark, looking at the sky full of stars and checking out the star map at the visitors’ center. There were also a lots of stands of prickly pear cactus, which were interesting to look at but definitely you want to avoid them when walking around at night.

Prickly pear cactus abounds in Garner State Park

The next morning, we headed northeast into the part of the Hill Country that was settled by German pioneers, and I am told, is still quite German. Looking forward to some schnitzel!