Archives: 20th July 2001

Now assured that the bikes would be ready, we did our laundry and packed our bags, ready for our departure.

We were extremely disappointed that the website had not uploaded properly. Neither of us had any idea what was wrong with the pictures. We checked and double-checked all the file names, and, finding nothing obviously amiss, tried the ‘Bullet-proof FTP’ software again. Nothing was changed, but this time everything uploaded successfully, and we could at last ‘advertise’ our site to the family. The only enhancement that we could not get to work, was the ‘hit counter’.

Alas, the bikes were not ready today. So we filled the day as best we could, and rearranged our itinerary for a Saturday departure.

Who was that shadowy figure behind the wall on the grassy knoll? Was Oswald acting alone? Who killed Jack Ruby?

Who could visit Dallas and not pay a visit to the excellent ‘6th Floor Museum’ in what used to be the Book Repository, from where Oswald almost certainly fired the shot that allegedly killed JFK? The museum keeps the controversy and Kennedy’s memory alive with an exhibition of family photos, video clips and evidence gathered from witnesses.

While it would be tempting to take a snap from the 6th floor window, as Oswald would have seen it, photographs are prohibited (our digital camera was taken off us at the door) and, besides, trees have obscured the view a little in the last 38 years!

On the day we visited, a separate photographic tribute to Jackie Kennedy was also being displayed on the ground floor.

On Wednesday evening we decided to upload the incomplete website. After a couple of false starts, the files began to transfer. By about midnight we could, at last, lay claim to a live website. Unfortunately, none of the pictures had uploaded correctly, which made the site dull, grey, and uninspiring to view.

All the parts for John’s bike, and most of the bits for Brigid’s, had been received, and we were hopeful that both would be back on the road for Thursday.

Anxious not to miss out on any of the popular haunts, we thought a visit to the enclave of ‘British’ pubs in Lower Greenville would be in order. Lower Greenville was easy enough to find, but we were surprised not to see any truly English pubs. True, there were a couple of Irish pubs, but the main characteristic of the nightlife in Lower Greenville, was the plethora of bars advertising live music.

Then, quite by chance, we stumbled on The Blue Goose (a bar that we had been recommended to us by the Stetson-wearing assistant in Cavender’s Western Store), which is popular with bikers.

It was a pity that it was Tuesday, as we had been told that Thursday and Friday were the bar’s big ‘cruise nights’, when many custom bikes would be parked outside. Nevertheless, the bar serves excellent Mexican food, and knockout Margaritas!

(The English pubs have mostly relocated to Addison, where, coincidentally, there is another branch of The Blue Goose.)

The dealership was closed, so we were left kicking our heals until Tuesday, when we hoped to have news of the parts.

Seeing as our visit to Dallas had now been unintentionally extended, we were able to return the McGinnis’s hospitality by inviting them to dinner. Joe’s Crab Shack had been recommended to us by one of the waitresses at The Waffle House (by this time a regular breakfast haunt).

Even Brittni agreed that Joe’s was worth a visit … despite curtailing her date with her boyfriend. However, when Mom showed up at the appointed hour to collect her from the baseball game, Brittni quickly suggested that the boys might catch her up at the restaurant.

Joe’s Crab Shack has a reputation for being great entertainment, partly on account of its wacky décor, and partly for the regular cabarets performed by the waiting staff (during which time, needless to say, service is suspended).

Brittni’s friends turned up before the food, and (to her parents’ irritation) she immediately went to sit with them. We didn’t mind in the least, but we got our own back when Lori asked the staff if they would help us embarrass her.

The waitress was delighted. She announced to the other diners that, in order to reunite the family, we all would perform a Conga around the restaurant.

Everybody laughed and cheered us through, the food arrived, and a great time was had by all!

Today we had arranged to meet Kirk Woodward (organiser of the Mother Road Rally) and his wife, Pam, for brunch at the upmarket ‘Galleria’ mall. We were up early … after all, we half expected to get lost en route, and didn’t want to be late. (Kirk had mentioned a host of brunch selections, including a Godiva Choclatier … and we were becoming decidedly bored of the Waffle House.)

In the event, we arrived just as the Mall was opening up. Quite apart from a formidable selection of eateries, the Galleria boasts a number of ‘Bond Street’ stores, and a skating rink (where a number of precocious young prima donnas were already practicing their tantrums for the assembled audience).

Seeing that I was still a little ‘tender’ from the ‘coming together’ earlier in the week, Kirk and Pam chose the nearby bakery for brunch. We sat and chatted for an hour or so, over coffee and croissants (and one or two sticky cakes), before we took our leave, and set off in search of a soft cushion for tonight’s rodeo.

The Mesquite Rodeo is one of the biggest events in the Dallas area. The main arena is surrounded by the ‘bleachers’ (basic grandstand seating, usually open air – although the Mesquite arena has recently been covered). There are also air-conditioned boxes, which are mainly used for corporate entertaining.

The rodeo was due to start at 8pm, and we were invited to have dinner with Lori’s parents in nearby Sunnyville. They had prepared a typical Texan meal of brisket of beef, potato salad, and barbeque beans. The beef was tender enough to melt in the mouth and very flavoursome … delicious!! After dinner we all piled into the McGinnis people-carrier, and set off for the rodeo.

I think even Lori and Howard were amazed by the length of the traffic jam, stretching in both directions from the rodeo arena. As the queue reached the gates, it was decided that Tyler would show us to our seats while Lori waited with Howard’s ticket while he tried to park the car.

We had missed the first bull-riding and calf-roping events, but arrived in time for the Mesquite mounted square-dancers. A jolly assortment of riders of both sexes, in all shapes and sizes, and varying levels of horsemanship (the phrase “only the balls should bounce …” springs to mind) riding in a ‘Thelwellesque’ pageant reminiscent of the Pony Club (with spangly costumes).

The quickest event of the evening was the ‘Tijuana Stud Poker’, in which four brave (or foolish) cowboys sit at a poker table in the middle of the arena while a bull is let loose. The man who is the last to leave his seat is the winner of the cash prize. Unfortunately, on this occasion, the bull had read the script.

On being released from his pen, the bull made straight for the table. The next few seconds were a blur as he upended the table and sent all four contestants scrambling for safety! The contest was declared a four-way draw.

After checking on the progress of the bike repairs, we decided to visit the Ft. Worth stockyards, part of the legendary Chisholm Trail. John Chisholm, the pioneer of the original cattle trail, is probably best known from John Wayne’s portrayal.

Fort Worth itself is a much older city than its neighbour, Dallas. The two cities appear to be co-joined at the airport, but are, in fact, some 30 miles apart.

The stockyards are about 2 miles north of downtown Ft. Worth, but the drive takes you into the very heart of the Wild West. At 10am and 4pm each day, a small herd of pretty Texas Long Horn cattle is driven from the old Exchange building to the rail road station for the benefit of tourist cameras – escorted by mounted police officers (much to John’s amusement)!

We duly took our snaps (and had our photos taken with one of the beasties), and headed for the shade of the historic Stockman’s Hotel.

John sampled the unique flavour of Buffalo Butt beer (the best that can be said is that he has had some ‘real’ ales that have tasted worse) from a western saddle (mounted on a saloon stool), while Brigid downed a bucket of iced tea (before ordering a Margarita)! By now the sun was going down, and it was time to think of dinner.

Thinking Dallas might seem a little tame to visiting Londoners like ourselves, Lori and Howard McGinnis had recommended that we visit Deep Ellum, which “can get pretty wild on a Friday or Saturday night”. It is one of the trendy places in Dallas, full of night clubs, bars, restaurants, tattoo parlours, punks, gays, lesbians, and bikers. We were sure to fit right in …

In truth, Deep Ellum is probably wild by Texan standards. There were certainly plenty of ‘young’, sporting grunge fashions and loud hair colours. There was a cacophony of noise coming from various dodgy-looking clubs on Main and Elm Streets.

Police patrol cars toured the area, and an electricity company truck partially blocked one of the streets, while its driver tried in vain to resurrect the neon sign over one of the bars. But if you venture beyond the seedy façade of any of the restaurants, you will find the tables occupied by well-dressed, and well-heeled, young professional types. We had an excellent meal in St. Pete’s Dancing Marlin.

Having failed to notice that the clock in the room was set on Eastern Standard Time (Texas operates on Central Time), the alarm went off an hour earlier than intended, and we were up and dressed before we realised. The Alamo was not yet open, so we went in search of breakfast.

Most of the riverside restaurants were closed, still clearing up from the night before, but we found a Tex-Mex Café called Zuni’s that was open.

The menu offered standard breakfast fare of waffles, pancakes and eggs, but our attention was drawn to the tortilla with scambled egg, bacon, jalapeno peppers and salsa verde. With coffee and apple juice, this seemed an ideal combination!

After breakfast, we visited the Central Library (an extraordinary ‘enchilada red’ building, six storeys high) to check our e-mail, before viewing The Alamo.
(A short history lesson: The Alamo mission was held for 13 days in 1836 by a small garrison of about 200 men, against about 4,000 of Santa Anna’s troops during the Texas Revolution. The defenders of The Alamo died rather than surrender to the Mexicans, and amongst those killed were Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie.)

Few of the walls of the The Alamo are original, but the Church and some of the barrack walls have been preserved, and much of rest of the mission has been restored. Sadly, the large compound in front of the mission has been replaced by Alamo Plaza, and is surrounded by tacky shops and entertainments.

The Church is now a shrine. Inside, visitors of all nationalities pay their quiet respects to the men that died. In contrast with the commercialism outside, the shrine itself is low-key, containing only relics of its history, and a model showing the layout of the mission as it was in March 1836.

Americans are often very dismissive of their history, preferring instead to look to Europe for ancient castles and royalty. But we find American history all the more fascinating because it is so recent. It is extraordinary when you think that there are photographs of so many American historical figures: the people who were instrumental in the creation of the United States. We found our visit to The Alamo a very humbling experience.

As we had an air-conditioned Jeep at our disposal, we decided to take a side trip to San Antonio. John had particularly wanted to see The Alamo, but we had shelved the idea due to the extreme heat. The round trip from Dallas is over 500 miles, and would have been unbearable on the bikes!

Having visited the motorcycle dealers in the morning, we left for ‘San Antone’ around lunchtime.

Needless to say, when we arrived in San Antonio, we had no idea where we were going. From the Easyfinder Texas map, it was impossible to tell where Downtown was, or indeed where The Alamo was. We did know that one thing we should see was the Riverside Walk, so seeing signs for the ‘Rivercenter Mall’, we pulled off I-35. In fact, we were one exit early, but almost immediately we saw signs for The Alamo, and a convenient Days Inn motel. For the first time since we arrived in the US, we were within walking distance of the centre of town!

As it was getting late, we dumped our bags in the room and walked into town. The heat and humidity were stifling. Even the proximity of the river did not bring any relief. But the River Walk lived up to its billing. The Walk is below street level, and circles the downtown area.

The landscaped path is interrupted on both banks by restaurant tables. Every conceivable type of cuisine is represented. Tour boats run regular services for sightseers and diners alike – stopping between courses to clear the plates! As the sun went down, the river was almost exclusively illuminated by the lights of the restaurants.
We found a cool balcony table for dinner, which enabled us to view the river and surrounding night life below. But the heat had clearly gone to Brigid’s head. As John prepared to order a couple of ice-cold beers, Brigid announced that she would rather have … ICED TEA!!!