Written by Texas Highways
When Gil Rainosek walks into the San Marcos restaurant bearing his name, he chats with the kid behind the counter, snatches an errant napkin from the floor, and pops into the kitchen to make sure enough iced tea is being brewed—duties any restaurant owner would perform. Rainosek sold Gil’s Broiler & Manske Roll Bakery about 15 years ago, but he tells me he comes back every month or so “just to check in.”
In a demonstration kitchen within shouting distance of Davy Crockett’s fiddle, a 650-pound purple amethyst, and circus memorabilia from the 1920s, San Antonio’s 90-year-old Witte Museum hosts a series of dinners complete with wine, beer, or cocktails from such spots as Comfort’s Bending Branch Winery and Stonewall’s Pedernales Cellars. Since its debut in summer 2014, the Salud! Culinary Nights program has presented more than 15 dinners and has secured a spot in the regular date-night repertoire of many adventurous Witte fans.
The Texas Hill Country has long attracted visitors for its combination of outdoor recreation and historic towns, and in recent years it has developed into one of the most visited wine regions in the country. The Fredericksburg area and its “Wine Road 290” trail—a string of more than a dozen wineries along a 45-mile stretch of US 290—enjoys the lion’s share of attention, but there’s much to be found off the beaten track.
For Austin-based clothing company Fort Lonesome, the classic Western pearl-snap shirt is all about wearing your heart on your sleeve—or at least around your shoulders. Proprietor Kathie Sever and her fellow tailors practice what she calls “thread-based storytelling,” creating one-of-a-kind embroidered garments inspired by her clients’ lives, passions, families, and influences.
Early travelers on the wagon road that later became US 287 must have thought it was a mirage—a gabled Victorian manse with a covered porch on a West Texas plain. Now the centerpiece of the Charles Goodnight Historical Center, the ranch house of legendary Panhandle cattleman Charles Goodnight is also a tribute to grit and creativity—his and that of a pair of modern-day ranch women who strived to preserve it.
The six-hour miniseries Lonesome Dove first aired in February 1989 while I was taking an evening painting class in Fort Worth. My fellow students and I usually didn’t pay much attention to the television in the studio, but that evening we couldn’t focus on our still-life lesson. As retired Texas Rangers Capt. Augustus “Gus” McCrae and Capt. Woodrow Call rode off on an epic cattle drive from Texas to Montana, they took us along, too.
I do a lot of traveling and have developed a system over the years. I keep a kit packed with toiletries, a backpack stocked with such essentials as binoculars and sunscreen, and I carry my passport and emergency-contact information in a small case. All I have to do is toss these into the car or a suitcase whenever the travel opportunity arises.
I say to my boyfriend, who’s driving as I study a colorful map of Waco’s Cameron Park from the passenger seat. We’re making the two-hour drive from Austin to enjoy an active weekend of hiking and sightseeing, but neither of us knows what to expect. We’ve read that the 416-acre park, which is celebrating its 106th anniversary this year, has sweeping views of the Bosque and Brazos rivers, options for paddling and fishing, and more than 20 miles of trails for hiking or biking. Yet it can be a little hard to know where to begin.
Typically, a kingdom can be measured in its vast stashes of gold and millions of faithful subjects. But here in Texas, a grand kingdom needs only acres upon acres of beautiful land and a seemingly endless supply of cattle. And that’s exactly what I found in the South Texas town of Kingsville.
The first time I saw the Monahans sandhills, I thought I had been taken in by a mirage. What else would explain the presence of beautiful rolling dunes out here in the middle of West Texas, with no ocean within 500 miles?
Remember the Alamo? It was there that William B. Travis penned his famous letter, signed “Victory or Death,” on February 24, 1836. In command of Texas forces besieged by the Mexican army, Travis sent the missive by courier east to San Felipe de Austin, addressed “To the People of Texas and All Americans.” In it, he declared, “I will never surrender or retreat.” Yet he also pleaded for reinforcements “to come to our aid, with all dispatch.”