Yesterday morning I asked John "Don't you need to go to Walgreens or Home Depot over in Drippin' today?" "Not really. Why?" "Well, I've got this audio book from the library that's just
about due, and I'm not making much progress on it. We need to drive somewhere that takes more than five minutes, so I can finish it up." A moment later he was standing by the door, cap on and keys jangling, so I scrambled to get ready and we took off.
He headed straight for Dripping Springs, but instead of turning in at Home Depot, he whizzed right on past and kept goin'. I settled back into my seat with a grin. "What? No questions? No demands to know where I'm taking you?" "Nope. I'm just going to sit back and enjoy the adventure!"
At the point where RR12 dead-ended into another road, we spotted a wonderful old filling station/restaurant/bar/bait shop and decided to stop for a soda. Alas, though the neon "Open" sign was lit, the doors were locked and it was dark inside. That's when we noticed the "For Sale" sign in the flower bed, and the slick new station that had gone in across the street. We couldn't help feeling a wee bit sad, as we continued on our way.
After passing signs for "Bee Cave" and "Hamilton Pool", the area beside the road began to drop away and undulate, and I got the feeling that we were nearing water. Sure enough, as we rounded the next corner, I spotted the sign for "Lakeway", but instead of the green hills and valleys we remembered from college, we found a sea of MacMansions, stacked one upon the other. We ended up having lunch at a fun little place called The Iguana Grill, and as we sat there looking out over the lake, we reminisced about skinny-dipping at Hippy Hollow and other adventures from "back in the day."
After lunch, we explored the area a bit more, and discovered that the residents of Lakeway no longer need to drive into Austin, for Austin has come to them. They now have a huge mall and pretty much every chain establishment you could want, including my favorite, Mandola Market. Kinda nice, I guess, since it means we no longer have to fight the traffic up I-35 to get a city fix, but still...
On the way home I realized that we were about to pass the Doctor Pound Pioneer Farmstead in Dripping Springs, and we decided to pull in. It was the perfect antidote for the "march of progress" we'd been witness to all day, and an ideal ending to another lovely day of adventuring with my Squeedunk.
THE MARCH OF PROGRESS
Reviewed by juragan asem
Published :
Rating : 4.5
Published :
Rating : 4.5
