If like me, you are a lifelong resident of the northeast, you may have only a dim or cartoonish idea of the culture and landscape of Texas. Before last year, my only experience there was a drive-by of the statehouse in Austin and several days poking around San Antonio and the Hill Country. There are moments in those places that are unbelievably beautiful, but I’ll be the first person to admit my knowledge of Texas is only skin deep.
“You need to come visit and teach here,” my friend and student Mark Gale told me repeatedly. Yeah, yeah, I told him. A workshop needs more than just spectacular scenery; it needs students. And yet Mark and I somehow pulled it together and we had a fantastic group.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you about. Rather, I’m here to sing the praises of McKinney Falls State Park. When Mark mentioned it to me, I was skeptical. After all, it is just a few miles from downtown Austin. I wasn’t prepared for the solitude and peace of the place, or the beauty of knotted cypress roots. Onion Creek spills over a massive, long limestone scarf, and the water is a delicate blue-green-grey. Above all, there were lupines in their thousands.
Still, from a visitor’s standpoint that’s never enough. We need bathrooms, and the toilet block was fresh and clean. Where were the outhouses I’d expected there in cowboy country? (To be honest, we have state parks here in Maine where an outhouse would be a luxury.)
We residents of the northeast have the idea that with our four hundred years of history we are somehow more civilized than newer, rawer states. Mention Texas in New York and your odds of an anti-Texas comment are about 50-50. That’s absurd. Texas is so large and varied that it defies description. It’s also historic. The first European settlement in Texas was only 61 years after the Pilgrims founded Plymouth colony.
Texas parks are beautiful and wildly diverse. That’s not just in terms of terrain, but in wildlife. We were painting lupines along McKinney Falls’ ring road, when I noticed skeins of birds high in the sky. “Canada geese?” I asked tentatively, because that didn’t make sense to me. No, they were pelicans. Meanwhile Mark has sent me photos of buffalo from Caprock Canyon, which could give the red rocks of Sedona a run for their money. There are armadillos, wild boars and rattlesnakes.
If I’d had time, I could have hiked, camped, or fished. In the more remote parks, there are extraordinary stargazing opportunities. Because of light pollution, most of us never have a chance to see the heavens unfolded but there are still empty places in Texas.
The other thing I loved about McKinney Falls State Park were the children. There were hundreds of them on school field trips, learning about and loving nature.
Yesterday the wind chill was below zero as I hiked up Beech Hill. I like Maine’s weather, but I spent the walk musing on lupines, which is why I decided to share this blast of spring with you. The lupines will be out in just a little more than two months, and I’ll be there teaching. I hope you will join me.
Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:
- Canyon Color for the Painter, Sedona, AZ, March 10-14, 2025
- Advanced Plein Air Painting, Rockport, ME, July 7-11, 2025.
- Sea and Sky at Acadia National Park, August 3-8, 2025.
- Find Your Authentic Voice in Plein Air, Berkshires, MA, August 11-15, 2025.
- Immersive In-Person Fall Workshop, Rockport, ME, October 6-10, 2025.
If you spend more time in the hill country in the spring, try to find someone who can use the geography of the area to explain the 19th-early 20th century history of the area to you and how it gave rise to, among other things, the American archetype of LBJ.
Hi, Jon! I drove through LBJ’s ranch–I was lost, TBH–and visited a museum at Mills County. I was there to visit long-time friends who are many-generation Texans. I know their histories, so it’s possible I also understand the ethos. But what, particularly, were you referring to?
Ahhhh, Texas. I once worked for a company based near Houston. I would fly in once or twice a month, and I remember the humidity (something we Arizonans do not know well), the flatness, the green… and the BBQ. There was a small BBQ shack with an enormous live oak with picnic tables under it. Inside, the menu was sparse, with various fried, sauced, and buttered things. My coworkers insisted we lunch there on my first day. Being immediately identified as “y’all from where now?” I was more or less ordered to have the house specialty: chicken fried steak. To the line cook: “Git ‘er a good one, hon, it’s-er first tahm.” The steak, pounded flat, dredged in spiced flour and fried to within an inch of its life, was enormous – so huge it overlapped the edge of my (large, oval, ceramic) plate and had to be folded over. It was accompanied by a pile of mashed potatoes, green beans sopping in butter, and a truly ambitious amount of gravy. With sweet tea, of course. It was delicious. The first day. Pretty good leftovers for dinner. Not bad for lunch the second day. The third day the gang wanted to go back; I opted for Subway (and left my remaining leftovers in the hotel fridge.) My arteries thanked me, I’m sure. The company is no longer in business, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that little shack under the live oak is still throwing it down.
I just spent an hour on the phone with my workshop monitor, and we were looking for that exact ambience–to paint. Austin is a real foodie city, so I’m not worried about my arteries, but I sure do like that visual aesthetic. Especially the live oaks!
Hi Casey,
I envy you for not having to deal with the humidity that we experience in Texas – though Houston is notorious for its high humidity, and most of Texas is much dryer. I live in the hill country which much more pleasant in that regard.
A BBQ restaurant whose house specialty is chicken fried steak? I would say that’s not a real BBQ joint. You should come back to sample actual BBQ brisket or ribs at a place which turns out slow-cooked meat on a par with nationally known Aaron Franklin’s offerings in Austin.
One more thing – I don’t know if you arrived from Arizona by yourself or not, but I’ve lived in Texas all my life and have never heard the word “y’all” directed at an individual. It is always used to refer to more than one individual. (After all, it is a contraction of “you all”)
So now when you come back to Texas you’ll know how to use Texas lingo correctly, It may not take long – when my daughter moved to Boise Idaho, it wasn’t long before she said “you guys” frequently.
Where I’m from, we say “youse guys.” 😉
We love Mckinny Falls SP! Also you should check out Mount Bonnell and Hamilton pool, and Zilker botanical gardens. Mount Bonell and Hamilton pool are worth the hike and zilker is a beautiful, peaceful place, you won’t be disappointed!
I taught at Zilker last year and definitely will go again. It far exceeded my expectations. Passing the other two along to Mark Gale. The issue is sometimes hoisting heavy packs over long trails
Thank you!