Weekly Adventure: Enchanted Rock

When I'm traveling out of this glorious state (or country for that matter) people will inevitably find out I'm from Texas, usually because I've dropped "y'all" into a conversation. The first question they ask, after telling me how they feel about George W. Bush and telling me where to stick it is, "do you ride a horse?" After politely telling them that I am from an actual city, where we have real cars, paved roads AND stop lights, I try to describe the variety of landscape we have here in Texas that does not include horses. For the record, I hate horseback riding. It’s not that I hate horses; it’s just that I don't trust them. They are bigger and stronger than me AND smarter, why the hell would I put myself on their back and at their mercy? That’s just asking for trouble if you ask me. I’ll pet them, while avoiding eye contact, feed them a carrot and then go play with an animal my own size. Something that does not have the power to break both my arms, legs and back, like a goldfish. But I digress…

One of the many things I love about my home state besides rattlesnakes, Republicans and Houston is the wide variety of landscape. Granted, sometimes you have to drive 10 hours clear across the state to get there, but still, Texas has it all. We may not have the most amazing mountain views (I’m talking to you Colorado) or the most pristine beaches (Florida has got to be good for something; otherwise no one under 65 would ever venture there.) Texas has a little taste of it all, a smorgasbord if you will, of mountains, deserts, plains, rolling hills, big cities, small towns, coastline (367 miles of it to be exact), numerous rivers, lakes, streams, bayous (Hi Beaumont!) and many other things that give this state it’s larger than life reputation. Or maybe that is just the people. Either way, there is more to Texas than just horses and the people who rode in on them. 

Last week, I finally ventured to one of these spots that make the landscape here unique: Enchanted Rock. Enchanted Rock is a state park with a giant pink granite dome (and other rock formations) peeking out of the tree covered hills.  It’s located in the heart of the hill country 20 miles north of Fredericksburg and two hours west of Austin. It's an easy day trip away which is why the place gets so packed on the weekends apparently. And cheap too, entrance fee is $6 per person for day trippers. My friend and I (both being gainfully funemployed) drove up on a Thursday afternoon so we could avoid the crowds and climb the rock during “magic hour” (the last couple hours of light before the sun sets). It was a warm, sunny and gorgeous spring afternoon. After wandering around a bit trying to find the right trail, we headed up to the summit which is a steep hike but totally doable, especially if you actually stay on the marked trails the whole time. There are multiple trails in the area, we just took the main one up to the top. We took a “creative” way down and had to climb over a few boulders, but that made it that much more fun.  Plus, we really had to something to earn the beers we stopped for in Fredericksburg before heading back home.  The view on top of the rock was incredible and the pictures really don't do it justice, but they are still quite perty if you ask me.

 

Trying to find the summit trail

On our way up the rock

View from top of rock, there are people on that other one too

Shawn on the edge of the world

Prickly pear on the summit

Magic hour

Shawn is really strong

As am I

Colorful moss on a boulder

The boulders we climbed down

Deer on the summit at sunset

Sunset

My Siblings, of the Four-Pawed Variety

The dogs deserve a formal introduction as I spent more time with them than I do most other family members. (Sorry family!)

Why did the dogs cross the bridge? To roll in cow manure, of course.

I grew up in an animal loving family. We always had at least two dogs and three cats, but usually the numbers were a bit higher. This was probably three dogs, five cats and a variety of rodents, rabbits and fish at our peak. When I left home for college and "the real world" that just meant there was more room for my parents' four-legged children. The dogs are definitely more spoiled than I ever was, though my two-legged siblings might argue with that statement.  Currently my parents have four dogs, combined they weigh somewhere around 400 pounds (the dogs, not my parents).  Since I've been in NB, I've been joining them on hikes at the ranch, as part of my 100 minutes of daily physical activity.

Meet Beulah, Arthur, Bucky and PeeWee, there is never a dull day at the Poss zoo!

Beulah, Bucky and PeeWee washing off the cow poo

Beulah: The big white lab (technically, she’s half lab half Akbash, a great pyranese type dog, but who is counting) and mama to Pee Wee and Bucky. She is stubborn, sweet and enjoys romping on the ranch almost as much as licking the bacon grease off an old frying pan. 

Beulah, also known as "Boo-Boo"

Arthur: The standard parti poodle and father to Pee Wee and Bucky. He’s the one with short curly poodle fur that’s white with gray spots. Possibly the goofiest dog I’ve ever known, he has endless energy and will gallop for hours on the ranch, running laps around the other three, which is also why he's hard to capture on camera. He loves shoes and greets you at the front door with one every time, not to chew on, but to present to you as a gift. Last but not least, he always, must, every single time he's gotta go, squat over a bush to do his "business." Weirdo.

Arthur in motion

Bucky: The big shaggy white and gray spotted labradoodle . Yep, labradoodle. My parent’s bred Arthur and Beulah a few years back and had a litter of nine smart, stubborn, goofy labradoodles before it was cool to do so. Bucky is a true mama’s boy and won’t go anywhere without my mom. His size and bark are worse than his bite (unless you are a small, edible dog) and he once jumped into my mom’s arms when a herd of cows chased him on the ranch.

Bucky, probably looking for his mom

PeeWee: the shaggy black labradoodle and runt of the litter, hence her name. I am convinced this dog understands English and can actually speak it as well; she just refuses to do so out of pure obstinacy.  She is the smartest dog to ever join our family; she can open doors, steal cat food without anyone noticing and learn new tricks in under 5 minutes. She will bark orders at you with enough sass that you actually get up do what she wants. This usually involves a walk, run or food; she is still a dog after all and my favorite of the pack.

PeeWee. What a good dog!

What is the best part about these dogs? I don't have to take care of them! (Except when my parents are out of town.) It's like having nieces and nephews. I get to play with them, teach them annoying tricks, get them muddy, dirty and all riled up and when they start to smell or cry, I give them back to their parents and leave! It's a win-win, for me at least.

Scenes from The Ranch

Since I’ve been doing this 100 Days challenge and living in New Braunfels … that’s “New Brawn-fells” for those of you who have no idea how to pronounce it. Please note there is no “s” in the middle like Brownsville.  I said no “s”! Okay, to keep it simple, let’s just call it NB until you figure out how to properly pronounce it. What was I saying? 

Oh, yeah, since I’ve been living in NB, I’ve been joining one or both of my parents on hikes with their four dogs on a nearby 400 acre ranch. My mom, green thumbed gardener that she is, tends to hundreds of orchids belonging to the owner of “the ranch.” I love this place, in fact I’m still hoping there is a single son in the family so I can marry my way into some of the land, unfortunately I just don’t think that will happen. The ranch is just up the road on the Guadalupe and is gorgeous, in that inherent beauty of south-central Texas way. One of my Colorado friends (you know who you are) laughs every time I talk about the beauty of the Texas Hill Country.

I get it; Colorado is gorgeous, much like a super-model. Her beauty is obvious and striking, leaving you feeling well below average in her presence.  Of course, some super models have reputations for being high-maintenance and snobby. Colorado, I’m not calling you a “snob” per se, but sometimes you can be down-right conceited about your ridiculous good looks. Texas is like the girl next door; the one who isn’t afraid to get a little muddy, has her hair up in a messy pony tail and makes you laugh, especially when you fall into one of them prickly pear cacti. Once you get to know her and look beyond the dirt on her face, you can see she is quite beautiful; you just have to try a little harder and not be so quick to judge.

Here are a few scenes from the ranch. Most of them were taken over a few recent afternoon strolls with the dogs (who will be formally introduced in a later post) on warm January days. Check out the rolling hills with tall golden grass, rugged limestone cliffs, moss covered trees with different shades of green and gray, prickly pear cactus growing everywhere, a dry creek full of brilliant white stone, bodies of water reflecting the landscape and of course, the big blue Texas sky. Meet central Texas and give her a chance, she just might surprise you (or push you into a cactus).

 

Port-a-Potty in the middle of a field, obviously.

PeeWee and mysterious dog shaped shadow

Dry creek

Beulah and Bucky head for a swim

PeeWee, Arthur and Bucky taking a swim

Somebody ate a bird for lunch and it was not any of our dogs

Huge tree, knocked on its side in the flood

Debris from flood

Canyon widened during summer flood

Trees damaged in the recent flood

That big blue Texas sky

Sunset