Adventure 67: Goliad State Park, TX/Post B

A good woman needs a captain like a fish needs a bicycle.

As promised, the temperature rose all the way into the mid fifties. We donned our riding togs; I rubbed the rust from the chains, lubed them, and off we rode toward the Presidio (Fort), which is the oldest structure in America west of the Mississippi. The brave Texans who defended the fort successfully for months eventually got word from Sam Houston to retreat. Unfortunately, they were too late. Santa Ana's army caught them and executed them heartlessly (There was a lot of that going around, it appears). Today a memorial stands where they fell, and the fort is held in such great esteem by the Texans that it was restored in the sixties. It's quite impressive. We also rode around the town of Goliad, ogling at the cool old houses, and we stopped in at the Market Square Museum where this tiny white haired Southern lady gave us a tour. She was born in Goliad, and when she retired a few years back, she returned. She was a bit of a thing, not more than four foot ten and less than seventy pounds, but her blue eyes were bright, and her once blond hair was accented by a ruby red hair band. She was a hoot. I would have loved to see which of the grand old houses she now occupies. And of course, we had to have our last lunch at the Blue Quail, which would be nothing special if it weren't for the pecan cobbler. After lunch we felt as plump as dinner quails, so we headed off onto the back roads around Goliad. We totaled nearly twenty miles and added a circumnavigation of the park as well.  It felt like our old exercise routine in Utah, which is good because as we get closer to Christmas we get closer to fat season (Not that it ever leaves us long). Judy, the tyrant, does her best to dissuade me from eating, but things like eating Texas BBQ twice in one day (Judy eats, too) seem to happen with disquieting regularity. On a tournament note, I'm holding a slim lead in the Goliad Open, but if the wily cager wins tomorrow morning, she will force a playoff game after which we're headed northeast to New Braunfels, Texas, which is thirty miles from San Antonio and about sixty from Austin. We owe it to our daughters and our friends (The Ulmen's) to be prepared for their upcoming visits. This means we're obligated to travel to these cities to find the best cheap Mexican food, and the best Texas BBQ. Oh, and of course, we must find some exquisite music (Including some Texas swing with fine steel guitar). Mostly, we're planning on riding bike around New Braunfels because the weather man is predicting high pressure for the next ten days, which includes a warming trend. Today, even though it was just the mid fifties, we were pleased at how nice it felt to ride a little bit. We'd be absolutely ecstatic if the sun came out as well. One thing is a source of agitation. I usually write a Christmas letter about this time, stuff the copies into the snail mail with the Christmas cards, and be glad of it. This year I'm in a quandary. First, we don't even have our Christmas mailing list (That would be at home). Second, I don't have an idea. So stay tuned; the muse is working overtime to inspire me. If I do come up with something, I'll publish it in the blog (Welcome to the New World). In the interim, y'all know by now that life is good, especially today.

 Still active, the sanctuary at the presidio inspires profound silence.

 Perfect for the season: the golden Madonna ushers in our Lord.

 Built around 1747 and restored to glory in the sixties, presidio chapel dominates the landscape.

 Called to arms so often, I wonder if God is battle weary.

 In nearly every back yard, we saw a smoking apparatus for making Texas BBQ. Brownie must wonder where his belly went.

 We don't need no stinkin' digitals. 

 Hold on to your bonnet, there missy.

 Texas women may have been as tough as saddle leather, but elegance and style was in vogue as well.

 Can you say, "Sweet as a Texas lady?"

 A tandem rider's dream: flat, empty, and no wind.

 Prickly pear cactus relaxing on a soft Texan afternoon.

 Hunny Bunny enjoying a nature walk.

 Look at the bend in those live oaks. The big ones have limbs that curl along the ground.

The blooming prickly pear says, "Y'ALL COME BACK, YA' HEAR!"