Texas - Day 35 - Mineola, Kaufman, Canton

Purtis Creek State Park, Eustace

Monday, 7 December 2020

Pearl Harbor Day - a "day that will live in infamy."  Though since most people who experienced this day personally have died, and even those of us in the Baby Boom generation who heard about it from our parents are seriously aging, the event is being relegated to the pages of history books, which are hard-pressed to convey the sense of "infamy" the country felt.  

This Christmas decoration at Mt. Pleasant KOA was animated, with the dog's head moving back and forth.  It was really cute and startled Dexter when he first saw it.  A nice change from the usual decorations I've seen.

today's route

On the road

My first 15 miles were on I-30 and, as I was getting on the highway, I heard a radio interview with someone touting electric cars.  He was describing the advances being made in producing better batteries for these cars and said "when car batteries last longer than the human bladder" the popularity of electric cars would skyrocket.  A point that anyone who's driven long distances can relate to.

I spent much of the rest of the drive on state highways and was thankful they were in Texas, where the road quality is generally dependable.  This route meant driving through lots of small towns and countryside.

In this part of Texas, the countryside seemed to be filled with cows, cattle barns, horses, a dairy - you get the idea.  Some of the farms I passed today seemed to have a crop going, possibly winter wheat at this time of year, but it was too early in the growth for me to tell.

The town of Winnsboro, pop. 3,434, for instance, had a nice old-fashioned downtown area with few vacancies (unlike the vacant downtowns of dying towns).  I passed a place call Home of Recovery and Restoration and was curious about what they were focusing on, and I'm glad I looked it up.  Their aim is to help drug addicts, and they say the only way to do that is to introduce them to Jesus.  As far as I can tell, the program seems to be quitting cold turkey (no mention of medical supervision), learning about Jesus, and learning a trade such as raising chickens.  If you're curious, here's their website.   https://homeofrecovery.org

I passed a homemade sign advertising "Rope Lessons."

Quitman/Wood County

I'd mapped out today's route with the intent to visit the various county courthouses along the way.  And the main reason I wanted to do that is to keep Google from shoving me out of seeing these little towns.  When I insist on going to the county courthouses, it has to send me straight into the heart of these various towns, which allows me to see something of their character.

But in the case of Quitman, pop. 1809, I completely missed its status as a county seat and was stunned to come to a T in the road and find myself staring straight at an indisputable county courthouse.

Wood County Courthouse

It even has a convenient label on it, in case I could doubt its courthouse status.  This is an internet photo that doesn't quite show reality: the courthouse sits on elevated land, and I stopped at a traffic light and found this huge building completely filling my sight range dead ahead.  

I saw a sign outside the local fire department saying I'd missed "Pancakes by Steve" 2 days before.  I'm guessing an annual event starring someone well-known to locals.  I couldn't help but wonder how serious they'd been about mask-wearing at this event but am sure Steve performed magnificently.

Mineola

Outside of town I passed Kismet Farm, where they raise horses.  Unusual name, I thought.

I passed a business called "Auto Anything and Exhaust," which struck me funny.

Mineola, which had no highway sign but logged 4,515 residents in the 2010 census, was founded in 1877 and still has many of its old buildings, which have been repurposed.  I'm not sure I like the word "repurposed" but I love the concept that keeps these lovely pieces of history from being torn down.  The Visitor Center's a case in point:

Nice little piece of architecture, huh?

Mineola claims the distinction of having been the hometown of Willie Brown, former mayor of San Francisco (he attended the Mineola Colored High School) and home of Jim Hogg, former governor of Texas whose daughter Ima was born here.

I passed Henry's Hotel, in a building that was obviously very old.  When I looked it up I learned Henry had first opened a hotel there in 1896, and the current building opened in 1913.  It was being renovated, though, with the reopening heralded for "January 2020!"  (I'm guessing that's been delayed.)

Mineola is also home to several intriguing restaurants.  The East Texas Burger Co., in business since 1985, claims to offer "A Taste of Mineola's History" and to be "Home of the Big Burger."  Next door is Val's Italian Restaurant, which looks like it's a town fixture but in reality is a branch of a Canton restaurant that opened in 2005.  (But 15 years is a lifetime in the restaurant business.)  And that's next to La Waffalăta (yes, spelled like that), which advertises "Baseball, Broadway & Fabulous Food."  Clearly a winning combination.  I also passed CowBurners BBQ, which I think is owned by some folks who're proud of their performance in BBQ competitions and decided to go full-time.

The nearby Mineola Nature Preserve is an attraction that has miles of trails and protects 193 species of birds, in addition to many other critters from buffalo to snakes.

It struck me that Mineola had an awful lot going for a town of only 4,500 folks, especially since it isn't even a county seat.  Funny how things work out.

Back on the road

I came to the town of Grand Saline, pop. 3,136, and a sign right away answered my question about its name: "Welcome to the Salt of the Earth."  And a sign notifying residents of the Salt City Christmas Cocoa and Carols.  A local tradition, I'm sure, but I could wish they made adjustments this year for the pandemic.  

Wikipedia told me the name came from a large salt prairie not far away, which was used for many years by the Caddo and Comanche Indians.  White men drove the Indians away from the land and appropriated it for themselves.  It's now owned by the Morton Salt Co.

Grand Saline has a sign saying it's Chris Tomlin's Hometown.  I had to look this person up and learned he's a Christian music performer.  

Speaking of Christianity, Grand Saline was also the home of Methodist pastor Charles R. Moore, who died in 2014 when he set himself on fire.  He was protesting the racism of the town and the homophobia of the Methodist Church teachings.  I found this interesting article about him by the religion writer for the Huffington Post.   https://www.huffpost.com/entry/rev-charles-moore-self-immolation  Since Grand Saline's current population is 1.7% Black, I'm going to guess there hasn't been a lot of progress on racism since Rev. Moore's death.  And the Methodist Church's recent stand against performing same-sex marriages shows a lack of progress there too.

On the way out of town, I passed a turn to Pole Town Cemetery.  I thought that might mean an old settlement of people from Poland, but when I looked it up I found the town was formed by what you might call refugees of the Civil War, and the "pole" likely referred to the poles used for house construction.  Turns out there's a historical marker about not only that but also a resident who formed the Socialist Party of Texas around 1900 and helped it rise to power.  If you click on this link, you have to scroll down a little bit to find the text of the historical marker.   https://www.waymarking.com/Poletown-and-Rhodesburg  Didn't know east Texas was a hotbed of socialism, did you?

Farther down the road I came to Fruitvale; with 418 residents, you might expect it to be tiny, but I found it to be much more spread out than its population suggests.

Wills Point, pop. 3,496, has an establishment called Johnny Miguel's, which offers Texican and Cajun food.  Maybe an owner who moved here after one of LA's many hurricanes?

I passed a horse barn and paddock where a horse was being trained to jump.  I've read about the process (start with very low obstacles and work up), and it was odd to recognize what I've only read about.

I passed the facility for Ham Orchards, which specializes in peaches and barbecue.  I bought peaches there this past summer, but today it was closed up.

I came to Terrell, which had no highway sign except one of their own that said the town was established in 1875.  Online it says Terrell's population was 15,816 as of the 2010 census.  Terrell is home to Southwestern Christian College, a historically Black college, founded in 1948, with a current enrollment of 87; the Terrell State Hospital (psychiatric), established in 1885; a Shipley's Do-nuts, begun in 1936 and a well-remembered chain from my childhood; and Vamos Auto Sales (I liked the name).

Terrell also has a Methodist church of striking architecture.

First Methodist Church of Terrell
the sun's position made a photo angle difficult

interesting bit of history

their old-fashioned sign

There're about 10 miles between Terrell and Kaufman on one of the less wonderful pieces of state highway.  It was narrow with a rough surface; one side had very fancy houses and the other had fields of cows; many vehicles travelled between the 2 towns and had access to the 2 totally different types of residents (rich people and cows).  As a result, I was glad when I got off that stretch of road.

Kaufman

But things didn't seem to materially improve when I got to Kaufman because the Kaufman County Courthouse was so wildly uninspiring I didn't take a photo.  The pictures I found online in no way resemble the seriously utilitarian building I saw, so I'm not going to reproduce any of them.  Kaufman was founded in 1840 and had 6,703 residents as of 2010, so I'd've thought it might have a more historic-looking courthouse.  Oh well.

From there I went in search of the Kaufman County Poor House, aka Poor Farm.  As far as I can tell, Google gave me bad information and, even though I drove much farther than it told me to, I still didn't find what I saw online.  I see from the linked website   http://www.preservationtexas.org/endangered-poor-farm that Google didn't even give me the right address so no wonder it gave me the wrong directions.  I was really disappointed.  They say this is one of the only remaining poor farms in the US that's still county-owned.

I passed a church with a sign saying they offered masked church services at 9 AM and unmasked at 10:30.  If they're going to cater to the reckless or badly misinformed folks who insist on not wearing masks, I'd've thought they'd make them pay by scheduling their service early in the morning and letting the sensible people sleep in a bit.

Back on the road

Kaufman and Canton are only 25 miles or so apart, with all farm country in between.  I saw farmlands and cows and sheep and goats and maybe llamas.  I think I saw long-haired cows.

Coming into Canton, I made a detour for some propane.  The weather forecast showed 35° likely tonight, and only up in the 40s over the next few nights.  I had only a quarter tank left and decided to fill up while I could.

Canton, pop. 3,581, claims to be Home of 1st Monday Trade Days, and I hear it's well known for that.  I passed 2 enormous facilities labeled as belonging to Trade Days activities, which suggests this event is tremendously popular.

I passed the Down Home Cafe - "Almost World Famous," they say.

Van Zandt County Courthouse

I'm told this building is in the Art Deco style.  You may be thinking that this looks utilitarian, but believe me, it's nothing compared with the lack of charisma of nearby Kaufman County's building.

Along the 18 miles to tonight's campground, I saw a sign saying "Say No to Solar Power Plant."  It sounded like there was a story behind this and, when I looked it up, I found that there is indeed an amount of controversy that's surprised almost everyone involved.  Here's what the Tyler newspaper made of it.   https://tylerpaper.com/planned-solar-farm-near-canton-draws-support-criticism

I've started finding ladybugs inside the RV - or maybe lady beetles - I haven't looked any more closely at them than it takes to get them out of here.

I passed a building with several lightning rods - the first I've seen in this rural area, which I find surprising.

And on to Purtis Creek State Park for the night.

An apology

I know I'm 2 weeks behind in posting blog entries and I'm very sorry.  

One of the stumbling blocks is that most of my days have involved so much driving, I don't get into my campsite until late enough in the afternoon that I've run out of energy.

Also, I'm currently in my 11th state park over that 14-day period, and all that moving around has left me a little unsettled, in more ways than one.  I haven't been able to pick up an internet signal in several of these locations, and when I have gotten one, I've had to spend time finding driving routes and coming up with more places to stay in light of a change of plans.

As a result of my dentist appointment, I learned I have to get a root canal job done right after Christmas, which meant setting up plans to come back to Austin for that.  Then I still have to find out when I'll need to come back yet again to get a crown put on.  All of that was yet another thing to leave me unsettled.

Then there was my appointment with my regular doctor.  There've actually been 2 appointments and I've had to get lab work done in between.  She's still adjusting my blood pressure medications and now I have to get more lab work done and then have yet another appointment with her.  But as I told her, I'm in the area for the purpose of taking care of my health while I could consult the doctors I'd already established trust in, and I'll stay here as long as I have to.  But of course it's not at all what I'd planned.

Anyway, I really will make more effort to get some of these posts done.

Texas - Days 24 - 34 - Mt. Pleasant and the KOA campground

Mt. Pleasant KOA, Mount Pleasant
Thursday, 26 November - Sunday, 6 December 2020

I intended to spend 4 nights here – just the Thanksgiving weekend – and ended up staying 12 nights.  Partly that was because I needed the time to rest and regroup, and partly it was because I started having trouble finding campgrounds where we could go.  

Of course, most campgrounds had a campsite or two open this night or that night (though some seemed to be completely full for weeks), but those campsites were always buried in the middle of the campgrounds, and I see no point in planning to stay somewhere where we may not even be able to get out of the RV without causing trouble.  Now that I’m getting used to my dogs, I've started noticing mine aren’t the only ones causing trouble.  Even in this Mt. Pleasant campground, I found 2 other dogs that suddenly stood alert and started barking when they merely saw mine, even if mine hadn’t noticed them.

So what with one thing and another, we stayed here a week and a half.


Doctor Appointments

It took some looking, but I found the business cards I’d brought on this trip from each of the doctors I’d been seeing in Austin before I started traveling.  I made appointments for the critters at my vet, and an appointment for me with my dentist.

I haven’t been to a dentist at all these last 3 years and that’s really been worrying me.  At first, I couldn’t figure out how to find one in any miscellaneous town I happened to be traveling through that I could believe was trustworthy (I’ve been to some in the past who weren’t).  And just when I was about to throw caution to the winds early this year, the pandemic hit. Even if a dentist had been open I wouldn’t have gone. So it may be odd to be excited about seeing a dentist, but I am.

My regular doctor is now seeing patients only online, thanks to the virus, and they gave me an early appointment with her, rather than wait till I was in town.  Well, that was something new for me, never having used Skype or Zoom or any of those services.  But they sent me a link, and on the appointed day and time I was there, but my doctor wasn’t.  I was only slightly anxious, though, because I well remembered she was often late for regular appointments, being one of those doctors who actually spends as much time with each of her patients as they seem to need (may her tribe increase).  But she didn’t appear and didn’t appear and finally called me on the phone.  She didn’t waste time on whether I’d done something wrong or whether the signal wasn’t strong enough or something.  She just moved straight on to my health concerns.

She changed my blood pressure medicine on a short-term basis – until I could go to the lab in Austin for blood tests (which she says are required by law, which is something I hadn’t known before) and we could have another appointment after she got those results.

She also noted that if I wasn’t using my asthma medicine because I didn’t like the side effects but was continuing to have trouble breathing, I should have asked somebody about it.  She noted that breathing is important.  And I had to agree that it was dumb of someone with my educational level not to ask questions when I have them, particularly about something relatively vital like breathing.  So she changed that medicine, too, again on a short-term basis.

She sent in the new prescriptions to the CVS in Mt. Pleasant (oh the joys of knowing how to use modern technology) and I promised to pick them up and to get the blood tests done and to call for another appointment after that.  She’s a really good doctor.

Blog Posts and Campground Reservations

Of course, the main thing I spent my time on were these 2 activities.  I wrote 11 overdue blog posts while I was here.  And I made route plans and campground reservations for the 3 weeks through Christmas.

That was complicated by needing to spend time specifically near enough to Austin to make it to these appointments, despite the expected traffic.  There are 4 state parks and 2 KOAs within that kind of range; those KOAs are, to my mind, wildly expensive, though I suppose they reflect the town’s popularity these days.  And none of the state parks could take us for 4 or 5 nights at a time.  And while I was at it, I decided to add on an extra day in town to go to the Tuba Christmas on the Capitol steps, that Momma and I used to go to every year.  I hated to be so close, and so near to the right time, and not go.  I still miss her a lot and going to hear the tubas just seemed right.

My solution was to cobble together the nights I’d need by a string of one-night stands, as you might say.  One night at Lockhart State Park, one at McKinney Falls, 2 at Buescher in Smithville, one at Bastrop.  Then the weekend over in east Texas, and back over to Blanco State Park, then Lake Somerville after the tubas.

Once I’d gotten all that pieced together, I decided to do the same thing about my travels the week before going to Austin and the several days after, up to my Christmas reservations.  So I’ve got a string of reservations at 13 different state parks in the 16 nights before I go to Goose Island State Park in Rockport for Christmas. 

Anna tells me she and David have rented a cabin just around the corner from the campground, so we can fix Christmas dinner using accommodations besides my 3-burner gas stovetop and microwave.

Of course, I still have to come up with someplace to stay over New Year's Eve, which is likely to be at least as big a problem as these other dates.  Speaking as a full-time RVer, I find national holidays to be a nuisance.

Trips to Town

I ended up going into Mt. Pleasant twice, besides the drive-though I did when I first got here.  My first trip I was looking for groceries and a new pair of jeans.  I’d discovered that the little hole I thought was in my back pocket was actually in the jeans themselves and was unaccountably getting larger by the day.  I was about ready to try to darn it, which is something I’ve never done before and was reluctant to try for the first time on my only pair of jeans.  It was clearly time to get a 2nd pair.

And it turned out that was easier said than done in a town this size.  They had a local store called Glyn’s Western Wear, but that was on the main street with only parallel street parking available – clearly out of the question.  The only alternatives seemed to be Walmart, which I avoid if I possibly can, and the Beall’s affiliate called Burkes Outlet (Beall’s apparently having gone out of business).  So Burkes it was.

That turned out to be along the lines of a Ross Dress For Less – long racks of clothes allegedly sorted by size and type, though not really.  Still, I managed to find several pairs that might do the job, and then faced the problem of how to try them on with the pandemic concerns.  I was of course wearing gloves, which kept getting caught in zippers and buttons, but I did manage to find 2 pairs that seemed to fit, and I decided to get them both, in case one turned out not to work out.

By then, the critters were clamoring for attention, and I found a little park in town where we could take a short walk and stay to eat some lunch.  I was surprised no one else was there but assumed it was because it was midmorning.  It was sunny and cold that day, but pleasant enough.

So when I went back to town after my doctor appointment to pick up the new prescriptions, we went back by that same park.  This time there were several others there, but fortunately no one with a dog, so we were again able to have a little walk and the dogs could sniff different things than those they found in the campground.

Mt. Pleasant was advertising "Boots And Bells - An Olde West Christmas."  I don't think of northeast Texas as being the Olde West, but I guess they do.

And I passed a business in town with a sign saying, "Don't Forget to Set Your Scales Back 10 Pounds."

I heard on the radio that the hospitals in Texas are more short-staffed than those in any other state.

Campground Life

Mostly we just spent time here.  The campground was big enough, and laid out in such a shape, that we had our choice of several different ways we could walk for varying lengths of time.

This KOA, as many of them do, had a fenced dog park, but this one was unusually large and included some nice pines.  It also had a feature that Gracie absolutely loved: a little corner covered with local vines and bushes, that had been created when a retaining wall was installed to make the park level.

You might can see the proportions, with the retaining wall just higher than Dexter’s back (but he could jump it, of course).  What you can’t see is that this corner is only about a fifth of the length of the park and about a quarter of the width – it really was a good-sized area.  Another thing you may not be able to see in this photo is that Gracie’s there too. She’s hidden back in the vines up against that chain-link fence along the side.  If you can enlarge it, and know where to look, you can just barely see her collar against her very black neck.  She really is hidden, and she apparently loved it.  She made a beeline for it almost every time after she discovered it.

When we get a house of our own, I’ll have to be sure she has an area like this, that’s forgiving enough that she can dig, which she loves, and in the shade, which she also loves.  She seems to feel safe in cave-like places (probably why she goes under the table or in the shower stall when it thunders) and with the vine cover, this place qualifies.  You never know when you’re going to learn something new about someone.

This KOA also had a large field next to a small pond.  The pond was kept aerated, so it never got the scum I’ve seen on many of them.  The field wasn’t fenced and was right next to a pasture with cows and horses, so I had to be careful with the dogs.  But the field had a healthy hedge of bushes and trees around most of it, so I could usually keep the dogs away from the sight of the bigger critters.  It gave us a lot of room to walk around the edge of it so the dogs could sniff things, so we could get at least a little exercise.

The camping area itself was fairly large, with maybe half the spaces taken by long-term residents.  Most of them seemed to have jobs in the area, and every morning from about 3:30 on I’d see a veritable parade of pickups driving out to work.  One of the long-termers apparently had some sort of medical problem, because when we were out for our 6:15 AM walk, we passed an ambulance with a patient in the back, and the ambulance ended up carting this person out - presumably to a hospital.

Two of the long-termers didn’t seem to work, and they were the 2 with the large dogs that would lie outside their respective trailers during the day. One was a boxer mix and the other an Alsatian mix, and both those were on their feet and barking at the first sight of my dogs.  Unfortunately, the Alsatian lived 2 spaces away from us, so it was really hard to go for walks when she was outside, but we managed it.  Oddly, I found out about both of them by accident – literally, an accident.  Both times we came upon these dogs without expecting to see them, and both times Dexter had a strong reaction to being barked at, and both times Gracie was bouncing around too, and both times I got a close hold of Dexter so I had leverage to drag him away while I was trying to keep Gracie in check, and both times I fell down when I got tangled in Dexter’s twisting body and flailing feet, and both times the men owners came after me to apologize and help and just generally be nice.  Contact too close for these virus-fearing times, but still it was kind of them.

So I spent much of our walking times checking out whether either of the dogs was out and, if so, figuring out how to walk while avoiding them.  It was lucky the campground was laid out in such a way that we could do it.  And that I’d chosen my campsite for a location that made that possible.  But all in all, we had a pleasant stay here.

Birds

Since we were just on the other side of I-30 from the town, I wouldn’t have figured this area to be full of birds.  But I guess the attraction was all the wooded areas and the little pond surrounding the campground, because I saw a variety of species without even trying.

Tufted Titmouse

There seemed to be several Tufted Titmouses (I doubt if they’re Titmice) around here, and one perched on the tree next to my window, which was nice of him.  I know it’s a Tufted Titmouse, because that’s the only titmouse species in this area.

Northern Flicker

I saw a Northern Flicker one afternoon – easy to identify by acting like a woodpecker and showing a large white rump area when flying.  And the Northern is, again, the only flicker in this area.

There were at least a pair of Bluebirds I saw several times.  That color is such a happy color.  And a pair of Cardinals were around a lot.

I kept hearing a call that I associate with a Sharp-shinned Hawk.  We used to get one in our back yard in Austin – scaring all the little birds that had come to the feeders – and I never saw this one so could easily be wrong.  But that’s my best guess.

I also heard an owl several mornings, and my best guess there is a Barred Owl, mostly because there weren’t many species to choose from that would be in this area, and the call I heard wasn’t any of the others.  Of course, once I decided to try to identify it, it refused to say another word so I couldn’t tell for sure.

And lots of little sparrows that just don’t sit still long enough for me to get a good enough look at them to figure out which species they are.  But they all made for a pleasant atmosphere.

Texas - Day 23 - East Texas lakes and courthouses

Mount Pleasant KOA, Mt. Pleasant
Wednesday, 25 November 2020

We had heavy rain, thunder and lightning during the night.  It really scared Gracie, of course.  But I lay in my nice dry comfortable bed and thought about all the campers using tents at this campground.  Neither David nor I will ever forget the 1st camping trip our family went on, which involved more mishaps than any one trip should have, including pouring down rain when what we had was an old canvas Army tent.  From that experience, we both remember this rule: "Never touch the roof of a tent when it's raining."  (It'll leak.)

today's route

On the road

The first part of today's route took us past a lot of small lakes and one quite large one.

Lake O' the Pines
(yes, that really is the way they spell it and capitalize it)

Sorry I couldn't get a better photo, but maybe you can see enough past Dexter to be able to use your imagination.  This lake is 140 miles long, so yeah, big lake.

FM 729 was a winding country road and, because it's fall, I saw some red and yellow but mostly brown dead leaves with green pines.  Thick underbrush.

I heard on the radio that Texas had more than 14,000 new COVID cases in 1 day yesterday.  It's appalling and terrifying.

I passed a church with this sign: "Our God Is Living.  Sorry About Yours."  Do you suppose they think this is a Christian message?

I kept passing signs warning of a school bus stop ahead and was thankful that there was no school bus today (tomorrow's Thanksgiving, after all).  It can get a little dangerous on these narrow winding roads.

I crossed Johnson Creek and Hurricane Creek and both looked like they were either large rivers or large lakes.  But I didn't see a creek anywhere.

Jefferson
This looked like just the sort of town someone would want to come visit once the virus is dealt with.  Despite having only 2,106 residents, the town has lots of B&Bs as well as the Stillwater Inn and Restaurant (noted for fine dining, they claim).  Founded in 1841 and named for Thomas Jefferson, the town still has lots of brick streets and French-looking buildings.

so you can see the neighborhood

closer view of the fountain

I stumbled on this fountain - the Sterne Fountain - with its own historical marker.  I couldn't take a photo of the marker but you can see it at this link.   https://www.hmdb.org/Sterne-Fountain

There's the Blackburn Syrup Works and the Jefferson Historic Society Museum, including the RD Moses Model Railroad ("100s of Trains and Cars" and "So Big It Has Its Own Building").

Near the museum I found a wonderful old railway car with a historical marker titled "Jay Gould Railroad Car."  The marker has some interesting turn-of-the-century insights, and it plus a photo of the RR car are at this link.   https://www.hmdb.org/Jay-Gould

Another block or two from there, we finally found somewhere to stop and walk (plenty of sidewalks in town but I didn't want the dogs relieving themselves on the brick streets or old houses).  This green area was called Big Cypress Bayou, complete with walking trail, a history & nature center, and a historical marker, which claims that this thoroughly inland town was once "southwest's greatest inland port."   https://www.hmdb.org/Jefferson-Turn-Basin  We had a nice walk that was unfortunately cut short by the appearance of a young woman with her dog coming back from the walking trail and, since her dog was as alert and bristly as Dexter, and since my dogs hadn't yet seen hers, I figured it was only prudent to hustle mine back to the RV as quickly as I could.

Jefferson is the Marion County seat (named for Francis Marion, the "Swamp Fox," but the courthouse was in the middle of some serious reconstruction, so it was totally off-limits.

Back on the road

From Jefferson I took FM 134, another winding country road full of s-curves, through the Piney Woods countryside.  I saw farms, cows, deer.

All along the way I continued to see lots of Trump signs, often with large Confederate battle flags nearby.  

I tried hard to get a glimpse of Caddo Lake, which I'd seen well from the Louisiana side, when I stayed at a state park there for a couple of days.  But Texas didn't want to let me get near it.  I'd tried to map out a route following the roads in the town of Karnack I could see on a Google map, but they turned out not to exist.  Really.  And I was afraid to try ambling down the roads I did find, because they were narrow and unpaved and I had no idea where they'd go or whether they'd lead me to the lake or how I'd get back again.

Then I found the way into the Caddo Lake State Park, Texas version, thinking I could just drive around a bit in the park and go to the picnic areas.  But unlike other state parks, they wanted me to park and go inside and, given the serious virus precautions I'd seen at other state parks, that struck me the wrong way.  And anyway, I knew that the park's access wasn't really to Caddo Lake itself but instead to an offshoot of it, by which boaters could get to the main lake.  I didn't figure that offshoot would give me a view of the lake, which is what I wanted, so I got myself out of the area and back on the road.  Weird.  Louisiana didn't try to hide the lake from me, so what's Texas's problem?

According to the map, Karnack is near the town of Uncertain, which I never found but a state I achieved, nonetheless.

Farther down the road, I got to Marshall, pop. 23,935, which has an office for the Texas A&M Forest Service.  And this seems a much more reasonable location for a forest service than that one I saw way out in west Texas.  Marshall has a "historic downtown," including the Texas & Pacific Depot and railroad museum.  And a street named David Street.

Marshall has Wylie College, which was founded in 1873 and is one of the oldest predominately black colleges west of the Mississippi.  It currently has more than 1,000 students.  Marshall also has the East Texas Baptist University, with about 1,500 students.  All in all, I'd say Marshall's got a lot more going for it than I expected in a relatively small town.

Next up was Longview, pop. now estimated at 81,647.  These towns over here are all within 30 miles of each other, which is why I'm stringing them together like this.  I saw banners downtown proclaiming "1870 - 2020 150 Years" and "100 Acres of Heritage."  I passed a building labeled Medical Simulation Center, which seems to be a place where students can practice treatment skills, as far as I can tell from an online description.

Longview is also the home of the East Texas Regional Airport which, because of its unusually long runway of 10,000', has been the backup landing site for US space shuttles.  A little known factoid.  I could see for myself that Longview has lots of parks.

Farther down the road was Kilgore, pop. 12,975.  It hosts the East Texas Oil Museum, which I didn't visit but would like to someday, as I suppose it chronicles the discovery in 1930 and development of the East Texas Oil Field.  Oil was found in the city of Kilgore itself in 1937 (and I can't help but wonder how that discovery was made) and, by 1966, 24 wells had been installed within a 1 acre area in the middle of Kilgore, producing 2.5 million barrels of oil during their operation.  It's been dubbed World's Richest Acre by the Texas Historical Commission.  The wells no longer pump oil, and all but one of the original wells were dismantled.  Thanks to the THC, though, Kilgore has restored and reinstalled a batch of wells as a tourist attraction, with stars put on top at Christmas.  So in 2003, the Texas Legislature named Kilgore "City of Stars."

As far as I'm concerned, though, Kilgore is best known for the Kilgore College Rangerettes.  They claim to be the best-known college drill team in the world, which may even be true.  I've seen them perform at all kinds of events for most of my life - including the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in NYC.  I drove by the campus, which is very attractive, catering to about 4,800 students.

Nearby was Overton, hometown of one of my college roommates.  Population 2,554, they cancelled this year's Christmas parade "due to the virus."  Lots of virus-related disappointments this year, though that's certainly better than risking virus-related deaths.

I passed Arp, pop. 970, and passed more logging trucks, then came to a sign saying Swinney Town.  Wikipedia says there's a town named Swinney, with a population of 3,684, and the motto of A City With Pride.  If so, I wonder why I didn't see any signs saying so.

In New Chapel Hill, pop. 594, I saw a sign saying "Count Your Blessings, Not Your Problems."  It's a good motto for these troubled times.

Tyler

The odd thing to me about this town of 105,729 is that it had so few signs touting its attractions.  I stumbled on the ones I found.  Even the highway department gave it short shrift since I had to look up its population for myself.  Tyler calls itself the Rose Capital of the World, boasts a municipal rose garden with 35,000 types of roses, and hosts an annual Rose Festival.  It also calls itself the Capital of East Texas.  (For all its online hyperbole, I'm even more surprised I didn't see any of this in town.)

Coming into town I passed the East Texas Islamic Society Mosque and School.  Their website says there are almost 400 Muslim families in this area.  I'm very likely maligning this town - and this area - by expecting they wouldn't welcome Muslims with open arms, but they must at least be tolerating them because otherwise there wouldn't be so many in this one area.

I passed the Tyler Junior College, which has an enrollment of 10,000+ and a campus that looks more like a 4-year college.

Cathedral of the 
Immaculate Conception

close-up of the tower

This is a Catholic church, as its name suggests, but I thought its style was more that of a western mission church, or a non-Christian religion.  It's certainly an eye-catcher.

I passed a building that looked just like an old train station, which is what it was.  The sign said Historic Cotton Belt Depot, though these days it's a museum.  It opened in 1905 for train service and was abandoned in 1977, then deeded over to the city, who's restored it.  Funny how train stations almost always look like train stations.

Downtown Tyler has brick streets, old buildings, a Pepsico bottling plant, and its very own Civil War POW camp.  Camp Ford was the largest POW camp west of the Mississippi from 1863 until 1865.  In total it housed 5,400 soldiers from every Union state except Delaware and Vermont.  It's open to the public now.

Back on the road

I passed through Upshur County - isn't that a name from West Virginia?

I passed a tree farm and large horses with the feet of Clydesdales.  Maybe they were.  I saw quite a few horses in this area.

For some reason, the name Gilmer rings a bell, but I didn't find the reason in Wikipedia.  It does have a few claims to fame, though.  It has 4,905 residents, and was the birthplace of Johnny Mathis, Freddie King and Don Henley, which is a lot of well-known musicians for one small town.  It was on the Old Cherokee Trace and, later on the Trail of Tears.

I passed several orchards, though I couldn't tell what kind of trees they were.

Pittsburg, pop. 4,497, says it's Great Lake Country.  Gasoline here was 20¢/gallon higher than it was in Gilmer, less than 20 miles away.  

And finally I came to Mt. Pleasant, pop. 15,564, where I planned to stay a few days at the KOA.

Texas - Day 22 - Paris, Texarkana, East Texas

Daingerfield State Park, Daingerfield
Tuesday, 24 November 2020

When I walked the dogs this morning, I noticed as many as a third of the campers were using tents or, at most, one of those very small trailers.  I saw one small A-frame pop-up trailer that had solar panels covering 1 of the 2 sides of the A-line roof.

Lots of deer in this park.

today's route

On the road

I noticed the Sulphur River has 3 forks: the North, the Middle, and the South.  I know because we crossed them all today.

The Paris Texas Harley Owners were litter pick-up volunteers.

We were getting intermittent showers all morning, as on the previous evening, and I wondered about all those folks out in tents in this kind of weather.  Must be young.  The TV weather person said there's a cold front moving in.

Paris

Paris, pop. 25,171, claims title of "Second Biggest Paris in the World."  It must be one of the older towns in Texas - founded in 1844.  Actually, because the Paris Fire of 1916 burned the entire downtown, none of the buildings match the age of the town.

This is the R.F. Scott Building, built 1916.
I thought it was too beautiful to be an office
building, which was its original purpose.

Signs called this
"Downtown Plaza."  I expected
a courthouse and found this
anti-climactic.  But it's 
surrounded by some lovely
old buildings around the plaza.

The photo at right is of the First Methodist Church, built 1922.  I saw it as I was driving down the street and didn't have any place to stop, so this is an internet photo.  But I was lucky there wasn't much traffic because I kept staring at this building.  I've never seen a Methodist church like it.

I passed the campus for Paris Junior College.  Founded in 1924, today it has 3 campuses and nearly 5,000 students among them.

I was aiming for the Eiffel Tower that I'd found unexpectedly online.  And it more than met my expectations.

centered directly under
the tower

I've never seen the real Eiffel Tower so have nothing to compare this one to.  But it made me smile and think that a lot of people in this town have a sense of humor.

It's immediately next to the Red River Valley Veterans Memorial, which had a few features I haven't seen at other such memorials.

This picture always
puts a lump in my throat
and tears in my eyes.

This plaque sits directly in front of the statue shown
at left.  Those figures are looking up at
the US flag flying from a flagpole in the center of the park.

Back on the road

This part of Texas goes in for names from other places: Reno (pop. 3,166), Detroit (pop. 732), Clarksville (pop. 3,285) ("Gateway to Texas"), New Boston (pop. 4,550), DeKalb (pop. 1,699).

We stopped for a rest break in the DeKalb Middle School parking lot, where I found the following sign:

Staff at DeKalb schools are armed and trained and ready to use the force necessary to protect our children.

I was seriously relieved that school was out for Thanksgiving holidays - or maybe for the virus.

Texarkana
On the way into town I passed the Red River Army Depot, and I was curious so I looked it up.  It was established in 1941 as an ammo storage, but almost immediately grew into a whole lot more.  It did and still does provide maintenance and support services worldwide, and provides training and other services to the "4 States Area" (TX, AR, LA and OK).  Their motto is "Our Best - Nothing Less!" and "Build it as if Your Life Depends upon it - Theirs does!"  (They go in for exclamation marks here.)  This facility now has Dept. of Defense's only rubber products division, doing research and testing and so forth.

I still remembered spending a little time in Texarkana (pop. 29,660 on the TX side) last March, when I was staying on the Arkansas side.  Because of that I didn't feel much need to explore the town again, but I'd found one place that's definitely on the Texas side of town that I wanted to see.

The Ace of Clubs House

This house was built in 1885 in the shape of a club, as in one of the 4 suits on playing cards.  It has 22 sides, a 20' tall tower and a spiral staircase.  It's now a museum, which seems like a shame to me because it was clearly built to live and have fun in.

Back on the road
I saw an Arkansas license plate that read: NVRWNTR.  Doesn't that mean Never Winter?  If so, I'd say they didn't go far enough south, because this particular day was pretty chilly and as overcast as you see in my photo above.

Going south on US 59, we passed Wright Patman Lake.  I'd heard his name in a John Putnam Thatcher mystery (believe it or not), so the lake made me curious.  I'm sure he was needed in his own time - not least because he contributed significantly to the end of Nixon's presidency - but he sounds like someone who's needed in our time too.  Here's a link to some background.   https://en.wikipedia.org/Wright-Patman

In the town of Atlanta (pop. 5,675), I found that Louise Street is one of their main streets.  We stopped at the city park on that street and had a nice walk among the pines.

I've never been clear exactly what area the name "Piney Woods" refers to, but I'd say we're definitely in it here.  This east TX landscape couldn't be more different than that I saw in west TX.  Here it's many many trees, green fields, rolling hills.  Almost lush, even at this time of year, in comparison to the stark landscapes in west Texas.

And from there, I thought I had an easy drive to the state park.  But Google's directions turned out not to be clear enough.  I ended up on the right road, but way way away from the end of it Google thought it was sending me.  I drove for miles and miles along a narrow country road - lovely scenery - but it was unsettling for me to not know where I was.  I knew what road it was, and I found it on the map, but I didn't have any directions to match that so ended up just continuing to drive.  I finally found where I was supposed to be and have no idea how I ended up on that detour.

But that meant I was tired and distracted by the time I found the campground, and our campsite.  And then had to deal with the dogs for whom a walk an hour previously was in the Dark Ages and they expected another one instantly.  You know, traveling around in an RV isn't as relaxing as one might think.  Or at least, not the way I'm doing it, with the companions I've got.  Oh, well.  My choice.

Texas - Day 21 - Denison, Sherman, Randolph, Telephone, Sulphur Springs

Cooper Lake State Park South Sulphur, Sulphur Springs
Monday, 23 November 2020

today's route

On the road

This will sound stupid, but I was so tired yesterday I didn't connect Lake Texoma, which the state park is on the edge of, with the OK-TX border.  But of course the lake sits smack on the border, and I saw it from the other side during my month in Oklahoma.  So this morning when I left the park, I could have turned left and almost immediately crossed the bridge into OK.  Instead I turned right and saw a Welcome To Texas! sign.

Denison

Not having seen anything of Denison, population 25,118, when I came in yesterday, I wanted to drive through at least a little bit of it.  Of course, I discovered right away that a street Google claimed was called one name was actually called something entirely different.  Getting back where I was supposed to be involved going down to the Reba McEntire® Center for Rehabilitation.  As far as I can tell, that refers to the Reba McEntire, and the center is for physical rehab and is connected with the local Texoma Medical Center.  Apparently when she was younger some of her family were treated at this medical center, and her involvement grew from there.  Who knew?

Gasoline is cheaper in Denison than in the Dallas area.

The dogs and I went for a walk in the city's Munson Park, which has its own interesting history.

When we were walking, I saw an unusual house immediately next to the park - the gate to the house's grounds opened directly into the park, which must be a problem for them when the local baseball team is playing in the fields a few hundred yards away.

I don't know if you can see all the fancy ironwork around the house, and there's a turret or 2 that didn't seem to make it into the photo.  It just struck me as odd to have a fancy house like this with a security fence and gate (gate standing wide open) smack on top of a public park.  Its address is Ball Park Road.

In town I passed the Davis on Morton B&B and was quite taken with it.  The owners say it's a 117-year-old Victorian house they've turned into a B&B.  It's got big porches and some gingerbread and is just generally very attractive.  Since the town dates back to 1872, I guess a few old houses are to be expected.  

In fact, I noticed that porches are a real thing here.  It seemed almost like it was a zoning requirement to have a porch of some kind on a house, but it makes the town look pleasant and relaxed.  Which is pretty much their motto: "Denison - Moving Forward - Kicking Back."  I saw quite a few parks in town.

It's also a stronghold for Pres. Trump, as I saw many signs and flags still being displayed.

I passed an old, fading mural for 7-Up: "You Like It, It Likes You."

I decided not to visit the Eisenhower Birthplace.  Partly it was because he only lived there for a year and a half, so it's not like the place was a big influence on his life, and partly it was because I'd already been to the family home in Abilene, KS, and partly it's because of the virus and not wanting to be in an enclosed space with strangers.  And besides, they insist you call ahead for an appointment, which I hadn't done.  Some other trip, maybe.

Sherman

Sherman is only about 5 miles or so from Denison and has more people (38,521).  Yesterday I'd noticed all the national franchises; today I saw a long road of strip malls, car dealerships, and the Midway Mall which appeared to be almost devoid of stores.  It was an odd contrast with the prosperity I saw from the interstate.

They had a flyover bridge just to cross the railroad tracks.

Sherman boasts Austin College, founded 1849.  It has lots of parks and lots of Trump signs.

Back on the road

On Texas 11 eastbound, I passed a small green field with cows eating hay, both young and adult goats, and white geese.  It was a lovely bucolic scene.

I passed through Luella (estimated pop. 639).

For some reason, I suddenly remembered that somewhere out in west Texas I passed the office for a plaster company.  I guess I was making notes about something else at the time and didn't end up noting this place, but the sight stuck with me.  The pillars holding up the front porch of the plaster company were in an hourglass shape, where the plaster had been shaped around the wooden supports for the porch roof.  And the four corners of the building had all been shaped similarly.  Their office was really effective advertising for their services.  If I'd had a house, I'd've been ready to hire them on the spot.

I passed through the town of Tom Bean, pop. 1,045.  Thomas Bean donated 50 acres to establish the town in 1887.

I saw another sign that said "Jesus 2020."  It's heartbreakingly sad but, from what I've been seeing lately, if Jesus had been a candidate for public office this year, he never would have made it out of the primary.  Too radical - all that "love your enemies and do good to those who spitefully use you" stuff.  

I saw another pasture of goats.  I hadn't realized there were so many around here.

The town of Whiteright, pop. 1,604, was right next to large fields of what I think was winter wheat.  Also an extremely large solar field.

Randolph

I found this town accidentally on the map and of course wanted to come here.  And what I found looks like it's a small farming community.  I think that because on the immediate edge of town I saw fully functioning farms.

I didn't see any businesses at all here, though I imagine they're there.  Or not.  This entry from the Texas State Historical Association's Handbook of Texas makes it sound iffy.   https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/randolph-tx-fannin-county  And as small as this place is, there seems to be another Randolph, TX, farther south.

I passed a church in town with a sign that surprised me: "A House Divided Will Fall - Let's All Pray For Unity."

A short way beyond the town I found this historical marker.

Back on the road

From Randolph I went back north again toward the Red River.

This too is farming country and I saw cows and calves and a sign saying, "Hay for Sale, Big Bales $45.00." 

Bonham

This town of 10,127 calls itself The Star of North Texas.

Fannin County
Courthouse

This is an imposing-looking courthouse, isn't it?  But I didn't take a photo of it myself because, when I saw it, it was completely gutted.  The outside was still there, but it was very clear there wasn't anything but construction materials inside.  I guess it's being renovated. 

There've been 5 courthouses for Fannin County; this structure was built in 1965-66 using part of the 1888 courthouse, so I'm not surprised to learn it needs some renovations after half a century or more.  (Don't we all?)

For me the biggest surprise here was the town's obvious strong connection with Sam Rayburn.  I passed a fancy building labeled Sam Rayburn Library with a very imposing statue that I assume was of Rayburn out front.  

I seem to have heard of Sam Rayburn all my life, which made sense when I learned he was in politics from 1906 until 1961.  He served first in the state legislature, but he was elected to Congress in 1912 and served there for 48 years.  He was Speaker of the US House longer than anyone else - 17½ years, though they weren't in an unbroken period, due to changes in the majority/minority makeup of the House.  Over that period of time, he had his hand in a remarkable number of significant events, and 3 US Presidents, among hundreds of others, came to his funeral.  Here's a biography I found online.   https://www.cah.utexas.edu/rayburn-bio

I didn't know of his connection with Bonham, or of the museum and the state historic site (his home) that could be visited.  I've always thought he was a remarkable man, and sometime I want to come back to learn more.

Back on the road

A short way out of town, we came to the Bois d'Arc Day Use Area, where we stopped.  It's part of the Caddo-LBJ National Grasslands, which includes scattered patches of grasslands, from as far west as Fort Worth through northeast Texas.  I'd expected to find a place in Bonham to stop but hadn't, and we were all getting restless.

This place was really just an open area for people to park before setting out into the woods.  There was an ominous sign that stopped me from doing that even before we started:

So we just walked around the large open parking area, which was big enough that we were able to get a little exercise.

Back on the road, I kept seeing signs telling me I'd get to Durant (OK) soon, an indication of how close to the border I was.

I think there might be a town in TX called Duplex, though AAA doesn't acknowledge it.

I passed lots of cows and half-grown calves, a few horses, a large field of round hay bales.  I passed small communities here and there along the road - not organized into a town - just a loose grouping of houses.

I got to the town of Telephone, according to the highway sign, though I couldn't see much there.  It's an unincorporated town that claims to have 210 residents.  With a name like that I thought it'd be more fanciful than the dusty little collection of houses I saw.

A short distance down the road I came to the towns of Sash, first, and then Selfs.  Sash isn't on the map but Selfs is.  However, neither one appears to have any information about it online, which may give you an idea of how nearly nonexistent they are.  Speaking of non-existent, I passed a sign for the turn to Tiger Town and oddly there's a history of it online, even though there doesn't seem to have been a town there since 1900, and the area's now a farm.

I passed through Honey Grove, pop. 1,679, where there was a sign saying, "No Trailers Or Trucks On Brick Streets."  By the time I noticed it, I was on a brick street, so I hope they don't mind RVs.  On the way out of town I saw a sign saying, "Thanks for Visiting - Buzz on Back."  (It took me a minute to remember the town's name was Honey Grove.)

I kept passing huge fields of emerald green grass, which was either sod or winter wheat, I guess.

I saw a horse and 4 cows gossiping together in a field - really, they had their heads all together - and a colt was standing alone at the side of the field, left out of the grown-ups' chit-chat.

Ladonia, pop. 612, claims Small Town - Big Future.  But since the sign was so weatherbeaten it was hard to read, I'm guessing the future hasn't materialized here.  The Methodist church in town had more stained glass windows than many much larger churches, and the town looked much bigger than 612 residents, unless I saw every part of town and there was nothing down the side roads.  Anyway, there may be more to this town than that sign showed.

When I passed through this "Small Town," I ended up on the wrong road because the road Google said I should take wasn't within 2 miles of where they said it'd be, so I thought the sign I saw referred to another piece of the road and I'd come across the right piece up ahead.  When I didn't after a few miles, I pulled into a driveway and looked at the AAA map, but was so frazzled I misread it and ended up on a lengthy detour.  But at least the scenery was pleasant farmland.

I passed through Wolfe City, pop. 1,412.  There's a real variety in the names of towns around here.

I saw Trump flags and signs all over this region, and that struck me as an indication of a problem.  Usual behavior after an election is for those who voted for the winning candidate to leave their signs up for a couple of days and then take them down, while those who voted for the losing candidate usually take their signs down right away.  We're now 3 weeks after the election, and you'd think from the flags and signs that the campaign was still going strong.  Except I doubt that's what these folks think because I haven't seen signs for any other race - not for the local sheriff or the state legislature or anything.  Just Trump.  Honestly, after spending all day looking at these indications that they believed him when he claimed he'd won, despite 3 weeks of evidence to the contrary, I was getting pretty depressed.  I just see that as a bad sign for the future.

Commerce, pop. 8,078, advertises "fresh pecans" and their 1st Christian Church has as many stained glass windows as Ladonia's Methodist church.  This is also the location for a Zurn plant, which wasn't a company I'd heard of but they seem to be involved with bathroom fixture products - toilets and such.

It was still early afternoon when I left Commerce and I decided to go on to Sulphur Springs today, instead of waiting until tomorrow morning.

Sulphur Springs

According to its official history, there were (maybe still are) more than 100 natural springs in this area, which encouraged settlers in the mid-1800s to put down roots.  They named the new town Sulphur Springs in 1871 to encourage tourism, which apparently worked because when the railroad reached nearby Mineola in 1872, it brought many visitors who hoped to benefit from the mineral springs and sulphur baths.  Some of the springs were freshwater as well, so crops flourished in the area.

Beginning in 1937 when the Carnation Co. opened a processing plant here, dairy farming became widespread, leading to Hopkins County being called the Dairy Capital of Texas.  (Sorry, but I just have trouble making my mind believe in dairy cows in Texas, not beef cows.)

But driving into town I passed a sign for the Southwest Dairy Museum, which sounds like an interesting place to visit with more time and less COVID.

Hopkins County
Courthouse

The main road of town - TX 154/Gilmer St. - becomes a one-way street at the courthouse and runs around it on both sides.  The streets in this part of town are brick (poor traction) and several other streets enter this circle at close intervals around the courthouse.  There's a small attractive green park-ish area in the middle of this circle next to the courthouse, where I saw quite a few people standing around chatting, without masks or social distancing.  Several restaurants that face the circle have put out tables and chairs to lure patrons afraid to eat indoors.  There were many pedestrians and dogs.

Does that convey an extremely busy and lively scene?  That I had to navigate while driving on streets that were made even more narrow than they were because vehicles were allowed to park along the curbs?  So I passed very close to this courthouse and wanted to get a photo but couldn't figure out any way I could get close enough - certainly not by parking in some nonexistent parking space.  I got the impression that I shouldn't have been driving in that area, though there were other trucks - UPS and so forth - that navigated it, so I kept on with the directions I had.

I was aiming for a grocery store about a mile from the courthouse, but when I got there I found the parking lot completely full.  On a Monday.  In the middle of the afternoon (not a lunchtime crowd or the going-home-from-work customers).  So I got out of that parking lot as quickly as I could because, even if I'd found a parking place, there was no way I would go into what was certainly too big a crowd in an enclosed space, with some doubt about mask use, based on the folks I saw at the courthouse.

I decided I wasn't so desperate for groceries I couldn't wait until tomorrow, and went back through town the same way I came in.

My impression of Sulphur Springs is that it seemed smug.  Maybe it was just my mood, but it was so incredibly cutesy and precious in the courthouse area, and nothing remotely like it out where regular folks lived and did business, that I got an unpleasant feeling from it.  Too bad.

Back on the road

As often happens, I'd hoped to find a place to walk the dogs before we got to the campground, not knowing what to expect there or what the dog-walking conditions would be like.  We got really lucky with a very pleasant roadside park about halfway there.

obviously one of the
original 1939 picnic tables

I was pleased to see that this park was built as part of the New Deal.  

But I've never seen an official sign that looked like this one and wondered if it's the new version intended to save money, or maybe it's just a placeholder until they can get one of the usual metal ones done, or what.  Still, it's easier to read than the other historical marker I found at the park.

Don't try to read this -
enlargements below.

enlargement - part 1

enlargement - part 2

I had a hard time with this marker, and I wish there'd been a date on it.  It is clearly written from the perspective of Confederate supporters (Union troops were the "enemy").  It expresses great sympathy for the plight of a Louisiana family who "fled" to Texas to evade Union forces during the Civil War.  These poor folks had to abandon their home and their family and neighbors to try to make a life for themselves "and 90 slaves" in this new location.  (Not a word about how the 90 folks who had been enslaved had originally been torn from their families, their homes and even their continent to live a life of slavery.)  And despite the local folks providing friendliness and support, the sign expressed sadness that these "refugees" had to endure "poverty, loneliness and sorrow" in their new home.  

I got so disgusted with this message that I looked it up and learned it was erected in 1965.  That's the year following the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the same year as the Voting Rights Act of 1965.  It's a clear response by folks who just weren't willing to let go of the stupidity of the justification for trying to tear our country apart in the Civil War.

So that was unpleasant, but the little park was full of pecan trees and was old and peaceful and I felt lucky we'd found it.

From there, we passed through the town of Birthright, an unincorporated town which claims a population of 40 and says it's also known by the name of Lone Star.  Two names for one unincorporated almost non-existent town seems excessive.

And from there to the campground.

I hope this post isn't too depressing, but that's the mood that increasingly came over me as the day went on.  I have no problem with people expressing support for their cause or candidate whether I agree with them or not, but I'm finding the level of display of Trump flags and signs I've been seeing so many weeks after the election seriously disturbing.  I hadn't truly believed the stories that large numbers of folks believed the president when he claimed widespread fraud in the election - but I'm beginning to believe it.  And that's what's making me feel discouraged and worried for my country.

And with that idiot historical marker on top of it - another version of denying reality - I just felt really bummed.  Thank goodness for my critters - and for alcoholic beverages and for chocolate, of course.