Thankfully, You Can Go Home Again!

 

Our week began at Lake Buchanan RV Park between Burnet and Kingsland, Texas. We enjoyed a few days on the shore of Lake Buchanan among the rugged hills and open skies of the Texas Hill Country. But for me, the stars of the park and the Hill Country in general are the rocks and cacti. Nothing says home to my mind and soul more than rough, weathered rocks surrounded by prickly pear. When I am among them, I whisper with Dorothy Gail, “There’s no place like home!”

 

This week will be all about going home. I grew up on the very edge of the Hill Country in San Marcos, Texas. And the memories and feelings circulating through my spirit have stirred my soul, and I am not sure why? It is as if being in this place has caused my spirit to declare that this place has a special significance that overrides the last 47 years that I have lived somewhere else. What makes the Texas Hill Country feel like home?

 

The site at Lake Buchanan was extraordinary. It provided a front-row seat to a glorious show every evening. The Hill Country generally enjoys some clouds during the late Fall, providing a canvas for the setting sun to paint a daily masterpiece. The deep reds and golds were set off by the many shades of blue as the sun slipped below the horizon. We have enjoyed sunsets over Sonoran saguaros, rocky Pacific Coast haystacks, soaring Olympic peaks, and the wide-open High Plains grasslands. But there was something different about watching the same sun hover at the horizon of the familiar hills of the Texas Hill Country. All sunsets are celebrations of the day’s end and invitations to rest easy in the coming night. But these Hill Country sunsets invoke memories of watching the sun set over Evans Field, where I sat with my High School and College Bands throughout the Fall. The golden skies caused memories of the sun setting the Blanco River on fire with the brilliant sunsets during family camping trips in the 1960s. The awe of beautiful sunsets was transformed by remembering and celebrating a single day and a lifetime of people and places who have watched them with me during the first 20 years of my journey.

 

Now that we have gotten Koko back on his tires and the slide-out mechanism has been rebuilt, we have a new decision. Do we want to keep Koko, or is it time to trade to avoid a repeat of the problem in a few years? This is similar to decisions that homeowners make all the time. But financial considerations are just one small part of the decision. We have put a lot into Koko and have made it home. We have weathered the breaking-in period when all RVs experience problems. Getting through the first 10,000 miles is usually expensive, and we are well past that milestone.

 

Further, if we buy a new RV, we must face all that again. We spent a couple of years looking for Koko and made it home with our little touches. But the question is, will these repairs hold, or should we trade?

 

After getting information from the repairmen, reading more about alternatives, and reviewing the costs of new rigs, we have decided to make a few more investments in Koko that will avoid replacing the slide in a few years. We will be installing a new system that is engineered to last, unlike our current mechanism. So, we will be making a long-term commitment to Koko, our home on wheels, enabling us to continue our wandering lifestyle. There are no guarantees, but Koko will be a good home for us in our travels' next chapter. Koko feels like home, and we will do our best to keep Koko on the road as long as we want to be there. 

 

During our stay at Lake Buchanan, we ate at the iconic Blue Bonnet Café in Marble Falls, Texas. This experience reinforced that my expectations do not serve me very well. This little café on US 281 has been open for nearly a century. It is part of the Texas experience, and people come from all over the state to eat their Chicken Fried Steak and a slice of their homemade pies. I have heard of this place my whole life. But every time we drove by, the crowds turned me off. I am not a fan of crowds or waiting. I would have likely skipped it this trip, but Marlene really wanted to eat here. So I found that a weekday evening may help us avoid the crowds. We got there for an early supper at 4:00, and plenty of seating was available. (By the time we left, there was not an open table in the house.) What did I order? Well, Chicken Fred Steak with all the fixins and a slice of coconut Cream Pie. This is when the expectations kicked in.

 

A lifetime of hearing about this place sent my expectations higher than a Sycamore Tree. I could not wait until I got the CFS or the pie. I was nearly giddy with anticipation. When it arrived, I looked at the plate and snapped a picture for posterity. But as soon as I set my fork to work, the air started seeping out of my joy. The food was good, but not great! The CFS was not tender enough to cut with a fork and required quite a bit of cutting with the steak knife. The sides were good but not very hot. Again, it was good. The flavor was there, but not the quality that my expectations had led me to anticipate. I was disappointed. But I still had the pie coming, so I revived my enthusiasm. Unfortunately, when it arrived, I saw the bakery-style crust, and the disappointment meter began to rise. The filling was extraordinary, but I have had much better pie on this trip.

 

The fault is not with the Café. I had allowed my 70 years of expectations to get away from me, and I expected perfection, the best I had ever had. Instead, I got good, better than some, but not better than others, so I was disappointed. If you are a fan of the Blue Bonnet, then please forgive my lack of discipline. Sometimes, I allow my expectations of "home" to override my judgment. Had I approached this meal with a bit more reality, I would have walked away delighted with a good meal. Please know the fault is mine. I am sure their food is as good as it ever was.

 

We packed up Koko on Wednesday and headed South to Schatziland RV Resort in San Marcos, Texas. This is a new park on the East side of I-35. Schatzi is a German term of endearment meaning “Dear One.” Husbands would refer to their wives as "Schatzi." The park is large and well equipped and close to San Marcos.

 

I am looking forward to our ten days here.

While in San Marcos, we plan on visiting family and friends. I have two brothers close by. I will be visiting with friends I have known since kindergarten. Marlene hopes to see friends from her high school days in San Antonio. The picture is from our visit with Cindy, who I have known since my first day in kindergarten in 1958. We met at Herbert’s Taco Hut, a favorite Mexican food restaurant I have enjoyed since it was a small counter in a convenience store where the owner sold a few breakfast tacos along with cigarettes and beer. Herbert's has the best Tex-Mex enchiladas I have ever had and is the standard by which I compare all others. Cindy, Marlene, and I spent an enjoyable evening talking, remembering, and catching up. The next day, I met up with Richard, whom I have known since we were on the Cradle Roll together at First Presbyterian Church in 1953. The rest of the week will include visits with other family and friends in and around our San Marcos and San Antonio hometowns.

 

Several weeks ago, as I anticipated the trip back to Texas, I wrote, "Will we ever return to live in Texas? Maybe! But there is no more going home to Texas. However, I will bring my home with me for a visit." Going home speaks of going back in time and place. But for me, home is where I feel safe, can heal, and find deep, inner joy/contentment. In this respect, I have not come home to San Marcos. Instead, I have brought my home to San Marcos.

 

This quote speaks to what "home" means in our wandering.

 

"Travel does not exist without a home... If we never return to the place we started, we would just be wandering, lost. Home is a reflecting surface, a place to measure our growth and enrich us after being infused with the outside world.” ~Josh Gates

 

My time thus far in San Marcos is about remembering who I was and developing a deeper appreciation for the journey that has taken place since I left in 1976. Most of all, I have come to believe that the opposite of being at home is not wandering but feeling of being somewhere that I do not belong! And in the last 16 months, I have not found anywhere that I do not belong. With Marlene at my side and Koko protecting us, I have been home the entire time. But, I am coming to appreciate how important the journey has been now that I am back in Hays County. The journey has changed me. It has taught me, disciplined me, and helped me see beyond the narrow perspectives of a 19-year-old kid who was never going to leave my hometown until his new wife convinced him to move to Lockhart, 17 miles away. And the moving has never stopped.

 

I am grateful for my hometown. Driving the streets I used to explore on my bicycle offers me a "tare weight" for my journey thus far. By subtracting who I was back then, I have a greater understanding of who I have become over time. I can appreciate the people, places, and events that have shaped and molded me. And this creates deep gratitude. This is the town's greatest gift of all.

 

We will be here another 6 days before moving to College Station to visit Marlene's family for Thanksgiving. Journey well, my friends. The road awaits!

 

Bob