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Austin, or, rather, the Texas Hill Country, pt. 3: LBJ’s ranch

I wished to view something more “Texan” than the hipster city of Austin. And so, on Friday, Ana & David took Karin & me out into the Texas Hill Country. Our destination was the LBJ Ranch.

We drove through Dripping Springs and Johnson City, where LBJ grew up (and which was named after his cousin). That city is now a tourist town. We also passed some wineries. Onward!, I insisted. No wineries! Onward, to the ranch!

Admission to the ranch was free, but each of us was charged $3 to tour the house. Driving through the property, we saw the Pedernales River and large fields with handsome Hereford cattle. We also stopped at LBJ’s airplane hangar and viewed a short movie about the importance of the ranch to the Johnson family and the nation. LBJ spent about a quarter of his presidency on the ranch. He hosted politicians and foreign dignitaries there. (His Secret Servicemen were disguised as ranch hands.) We also listened to an airman tell stories about how LBJ would fly into the ranch at the government’s expense.

The house itself was rather plain. It had eight bedrooms, a swimming pool, and many, many phones and televisions. It was decorated in the Sixties’ style, with vinyl armchairs, lemon-yellow countertops, and popular books from the period. (I was reminded of the Missionary Church Dorm, in Quito.) The best thing in the house, however, was LBJ’s desk chair, made of spotted cowhide. Oh, how I longed to sit in that chair! Alas, it wasn’t permitted.

In the spirit of a so-so movie from 1997 …

That is, Titanic


No, Jasper and Ziva, you must stay at home.

I just realized that in Titanic, the vessel crashes and the hero dies. I hope that that doesn’t happen to us during the vacation.

The wedding; the honeymoon; Independiente del Valle

Amazing, how when a task is so carefully rehearsed, its execution is so simple. There were next-to-no problems during the wedding. Apparently one of Karin’s cousins showed up drunk, but he behaved himself. Slightly more annoying was one of Karin’s great-uncles, who, as he congratulated me, told me to keep my wife in line by beating her. “No, no, no,” I said. Then, during the reception, he accosted me a few more times and made other bizarre remarks.

“My mom detests that guy,” Karin told me. “And guess what his job is? He’s a pastor!”

Apart from that horrid person, all the guests were lovely, and the officiants and maids and men performed their duties, and many other people helped out in small ways so that Karin & I had only to say our vows and to receive our greetings.

Then we went home and ate Chinese food.

The next day we rode the train to Chicago. The day after that, we got up at 2:30 in the morning, trudged to the airport, and flew to Salt Lake City. The young man who sat next to us was determined not to acknowledge us. I offered to buy him a drink, but he kept his face glued to the window. He reminded me of Charlie Brown’s tentmate (click to enlarge):


In Salt Lake City, the air was a little thin. “Mountains!” Karin said, astonished. “One sees them in pictures, but look, those are really there!” Indeed, the scenery was stunning all during our drive to Southern Utah, to the national parks. (Later I’ll discuss that trip in greater detail.)

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Independiente del Valle have qualified for the semifinals of the Copa Libertadores. Here is their penalty shootout.