On the Road to Austin, Texas
We continued our road trip on I-10W. An eight hour stretch of driving ahead of us now felt comfortable. We kept to our pattern of driving, with Stefan bookending to drive in and out of each metropolitan area, and me driving the middle block of four hours on the highways. Hazel has been an amazing car companion, and she was ready for another day of rest on the road. She snuggled up on her dog bed, secured by the puppy seatbelt attached to her harness. This belt allows her to stick her little head onto the console to say hello, but blocks her from jumping up the front, though I doubt she would anyway, demure as she is. She always has the rear AC blasting in her face, smiling and sniffing the freshness, and curls up to nap for hours at a time. She needs to relieve herself far less frequently than us humans, so making stops for her is a non-issue. After a few hours of napping in the back, she’ll send out her characteristic lonely whimper, and the co-pilot will bring her up to the front for some cuddling. She seems to instinctively understand what’s happening up there in ‘the cabin’, and shuffles around only mildly and slowly. Mainly, she happily naps.
The ride itself was a wild one as we crossed from Louisiana into Texas and cheered at the state line. Texas! What a giant in American culture. Some areas of I-10 were just what we expected from the state: clear, wide, and fast, with big buildings in the distance and overlapping highways layered eight high. Some stretches, though, were miserable to drive: cracked concrete, ridges that dragged the tire, and tight construction zones lined with jersey barriers lasting 15 miles. While roadside infrastructure was improved from Louisiana, Mississippi, or Alabama, the interstate was largely letting us down. More, it had become a running joke by that point that any time I took over driving, we could rest assured that it would rain. A drizzle here, a spit shower there, but this, in Texas, was a monsoon. The Gods of concrete and rubber lifted their broad chests and raised their scepters high to usher my most epic test to date. We drove into the storm through a wall of water like something out of a Marvel comic, a metaphorical energy suction pulling us through. A centimeter of water hit the windshield in each second, traffic separated, and each car rolled tentatively. I know, you’re looking at your dog or your spouse or the page yelling why, why didn’t they just pull over! Trust us, that was not an option. The barriers, remember, the construction zones. This was a game of attrition. I rolled on, squinting but calm enough, to the closest Chipotle we could find. When in doubt, find a Chipotle. (That’s their new slogan.)
In the car in the parking lot was the first moment of the road trip that I had that stuck-in-the-car-I-can’t-do-this-anymore feeling. That kid-whiny, I’m thirsty and have to pee and I’m hungry and tired and everything is swollen because I haven’t stretched in hours and when will we be there (!!!) feeling. Stefan felt it too, but, we had a yummy lunch and the rain petered and he powered through weather and Houston traffic to Austin. When we got there, the place and the people felt more like home than anything we’d experienced since we left on July 2. Trendy New Yorkers and Californians strolled with the same social climbing flare that we missed so much from our uptight brethren back home. Like in Brooklyn, people here work very hard to seem very relaxed, and we loved it.
We stayed in South Congress, a super walkable, trendy, safe and clean neighborhood on the south side of the Colorado River, which runs through the center of Austin. We dropped our things in the comfy AirBnB and quickly shuffled out to take a walk, a sign that we were excited to explore. We hooked Hazel’s leash and set out; the timid and nervous dog from Roanoke was nowhere to be found, this brave girl shimmied and shook down the busy street like a puppy pro. Mama and Papa were proud. South Congress struck us immediately as really cool. Stefan was fully fan girling. For those of you with context, this was The Midnight meets LANY meets Montauk Brewing meets Yeti level of fan girling. He had good reason: steps behind the main strip was a sprawling grid of quiet neighborhood streets with lovely family homes, yet South Congress itself was lined with a myriad restaurants, shops, and bars. The culture had health and design at its core, with the brands the folks in the city eat, wear, and use everyday lining the streets, like Sweet Green, Madewell, Outdoor Voices, Everlane, Allbirds, Warby Parker, and Parachute. Still in pain from the decadence of New Orleans cuisine, we took full advantage of the Sweet Green right for half of our meals in Austin. Bright Kale salads and sugar free iced teas, bless SG.
Awaking rested and with a full Saturday of sun ahead of us, we first jogged around the quiet neighborhood abutting South Congress. Woven into the community are little parks and t-ball diamonds and bridges over streams connecting different streets. Families owned the streets; at one point as we jogged, there were too many parents, kids, and dogs in the street for any cars to pass, and no one seemed particularly rushed to make way for the vehicles. The heat was on high but the air was much dryer than we’re used to, so running felt quiet renewing. Sweat pours but the breath remains somewhat even, not like our immediate witchy melting in Louisiana. Our run ended the way all should, with breakfast tacos. We found that Austin offered two styles of eateries: one, upscale and trendy with creative dishes, and another, like this taco joint, casual, no fuss, and absolutely delicious. Fish, chicken, cheese, and beef tacos with egg hit the mark, and they even had a doggy taco bowl on the menu! Hazel gobbled up her prepared dish, hungry from the run. Mid-morning, we were fed, sweated, and had a plan for the day. Sometimes, it just works.
Sometimes, it just works because of organized and efficient municipal planning. Barton Springs Pool is a municipally managed section of a 3-acre spring along the edge of Zilker Park, 358 acres of recreational green space at Austin’s center. The city doesn’t make dwellers choose between a city-centered life or a nature-centered life, offering green space, access to water, and access to hiking from within the city limits. I realize that I sound like an advertisement but our excitement really was flooring (and apparently, still is). We paid a reasonable fee to attend Barton Springs for the afternoon and entered a flourishing, clean space with hundreds of people. The crowd control was just right, with no food or drink or animals being allowed in (sorry, Hazey), so folks came, chilled, and swam. Simple. There was a grassy hill along one side of the pool, so groups laid out at a slope in the sun, and tottered down for a dip. The water was a natural spring, so what the senses anticipated would be a puddly community pool was delightfully crisp and cold upon submersion. We flapped around, donning the goggles gifted by Yoli as a goodbye present, waving to one another under the water through the sediment particles and dashing sunlight.
We hadn’t been in Austin for 24 hours and felt like we had such a strong sense of the type of city it was! There would be so much more to come in the way of food and nightlife over the next two days.
More to come!
