Old Gonzo doesn’t want to trot. At first we thought it was because he didn’t like walking behind Chili Bean, my daughter’s horse, who apparently is suffering mild gastrointestinal woes. So our cowboy leader moves Gonzo to the front of the line. But still, Gonzo is a reluctant trotter.
A pleasant breeze rocked my kayak and rustled pale green and brown marsh grasses around me. Overhead, a few wispy clouds drifted across a blue sky.
The Native Americans figured it out first, as far as we know.
On the shores of Aransas Bay, the Copanes made the most of coastal resources to support their lives as nomadic hunter-gatherers.
There’s no denying that Corpus Christi is one of the most beloved destinations in Texas, and for good reason. However, among the well-known
ways to pass a day on the bay, Corpus Christi is packed with plenty of hidden gems and off-the-beaten-path surprises.
Separated by 24 miles on Texas 118, the towns of Alpine and Fort Davis provide the perfect launch pad for Big Bend excursions, but you don’t have to wander far to find some fun.
Located in Van Zandt County between Tyler and Dallas, the hamlet of Ben Wheeler has come to life in the past six years as a quaint cluster of artists, craftsmen, and two eateries that also host live music.
Between San Angelo and Abilene, about 12 miles north of Bronte, lies a remarkable fort with the only fully restored Butterfield Stage Stop in Texas.
Readers not only raved about Kerrville as a place to visit, but they also praised the city as a place to live, citing the rolling hills that frame the city, the Guadalupe River flowing through the center of town, abundant wildlife and outdoors opportunities, live theater, restaurants, art centers and galleries, and friendly people.
In the far reaches of East Texas where the Sabine River flows, there is an oasis of culture, nature, and food. It’s a place where swampy lowlands meet towering pines, locally famous cuisine meets world-famous art, and the sour flavors of life disappear into something much sweeter. It’s a place called Orange.
From a sheltered platform more than 40 feet high, I step out into darkness, my heart beating a little faster than usual. The zipline cable from which I hang hums as I gather speed, cool air rushing past my face.
A ruby-throated hummingbird zips around a mangrove forest in the Yucatán at the southern tip of the Gulf of Mexico, tanking up on nectar and insects for its journey north. Suddenly, on a spring evening at dusk, it launches into the sky and flies over open seas with a mixed flock of vireos, warblers, and buntings. Riding tailwinds, they flap nonstop through the night and the next morning until they land, exhausted, on the Texas coast.