The smell of corn chips permeated the Garcia household in the formative days of the family corn-chip business. “I would go to school and the kids would tell me, ‘Man, you smell good,” recalls Miguel Garcia, who woke up early to fry corn chips in the family kitchen to help make enough for his father, Julio, to sell at a convenience store and for his mother, Lilia, to deliver for catering jobs.
I’ve explored many remote locales across Texas, so most people assume that I’m a seasoned camper. But here’s the real story: The closest I usually come to camping involves listening to nature sounds from an app on my phone.
As a crossroads city at the southernmost tip of Texas—and the state’s closest point to the interior of Mexico—it’s fitting that Brownsville would have a memorable train station. The city’s Southern Pacific Railroad Depot, built in 1928 in the Spanish Colonial Revival architectural style, is a beauty.
Resting in the shade next to a pool of clear water, I could almost forget that miles and miles of West Texas desert surround me. But in fact I was in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert, one of the most biologically diverse arid regions in the world.
Forty minutes north of the rapidly growing cities of Dallas and Fort Worth, the college town of Denton (population 121,000, more or less) enjoys a relaxed vibe that some admirers liken to “Austin in the old days.”
Government Canyon State Natural Area in Bexar County has more than natural beauty on its side, it has natural history, too. In an area that was once the shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico, 110-million-year-old dinosaur tracks, possibly the only known dinosaur footprints on public land, have been discovered.
Old No. 9 Highway in Kendall County offers a lovely autumnal drive.
There’s no denying that Texans know how to throw a party. Whether it’s SXSW in Austin or The Great Texas Mosquito Festival in Clute, we do it right.
Who, on Earth, can resist the allure of a full moon? Twelve nights each year, we gaze into the sky as the lunar satellite casts cold light on the planet.
Big Al looks as though he might be dozing at the edge of his murky pond. Closer inspection reveals, however, that the 1,000-pound alligator keeps a wary eye open just a slit, scrutinizing a group of visitors hovering behind a chain-link fence.
As the smallest of the college students exploring a Hill Country cave on March 27, 1960, 19-year-old Orion Knox found himself elected to wriggle first into a previously unexplored crevice.
Nestled between the lush farmland and booming wineries along US 290 east of Fredericksburg, Wildseed Farms might have caught your eye as you breezed past; it’s that splash of brightness visible through the low brown wooden fencing. In the springtime, with its nearly 200 acres of blooming wildflowers stretched out like a lush quilt, Wildseed Farms is nearly impossible to miss.