Again, Merry Christmas!
This is courtesy of the Mule Riders of Wills Point, TX. Not sure they are an actual group with a name and all. Since I was in Wills Point when I took the pictures, I thought that would be a great name for them.
The Mules from the parade.
All photos are copyright © Timothy J. Hammons, 2021.
Here are some of the oddities I found walking down the main drag, the only drag, of Calvert, Tx.
This isn’t the first cyclist art I’ve seen. Waco, TX, had a bunch of bicycles painted bright colors for one of their events. I’m not sure I like them. My wife took one look at this picture and immediately called him the Pompeii Cyclist.
One shop in Calvert was dedicated to rebuilding old motorcycles. This was part of a 1953 Matchless Motorcycle.
Jeff’s Jeep. Great gas mileage, only runs on leap days…
The “official” welcome sign.
The tallest building in Calvert.
All photos are copyright © Timothy J. Hammons, 2021.
Heidi and I took a road trip to Nacogdoches, TX on Saturday, for all the typical reasons for a road trip. Nacogdoches is a tad unique in that it is the oldest town in Texas, with groups of indigenous people living there back before water was invented. Or something like that.
We walked through the town. Ate at the famous Fredonia Hotel, and then stopped by the not-so famous Fredonia Brewery.
I don’t really drink beer because it has so many carbs, but I had to try one. They gave me plenty of options to choose from. I went with the Pinecove Port. It is the beer most like a Guinness Stout. The other option was the Macho Milk, a coffee-milk stout. I tried both and went with the Pinecove. Both met the high-exptectations of the Hammons’ Beer Rating System™. The Pinecove with a 9.628 and the Macho Milk with 9.133.
The Pinecove port.
The menu.
The monochrome.
Where the beer is made.
All photos copyright © Timothy J. Hammons, 2021.
Originally run in February 2019.
These wonderful rock formations are done in Grenwelge Park on the Llano River, in Llano, TX. I’m sure there are some religious connotations to some of them. But the rest are just rocks on top of each other, which we can call “art.”
The Llano River busted its banks recently and I would love to drive back and see how many of these formations still remain. But then, that is probably the joy of it for those who take the time to stack the rocks. They know they can do it all over again. Kind of like the people who find fascination in building castles in the sand while at the beach. Only, the rock formations have a tendency to last longer.
All photos are copyright © Timothy J. Hammons 2021.
We celebrated Andy’s birthday on New Year’s Eve by taking him to one of the local hamburger joints. Our joint of choice? Billy Bob’s Hamburgers in downtown Waco. We rarely go out to eat, so taking him out was a treat on our part, and he appreciated it.
Even though it was New Year’s Eve, it wasn’t crowded, given the deluge of rain the area experienced during the day. But we still had to wait at the bar for a bit to get a table.
I did make him take his mask off.
Decisions, decisions. I think both boys went with the regular burgers. Andy added an extra patty and cheese, and Joey copied me on my selection of the onion rings. Best onion rings I’ve had in years. I also had the Southwest burger and Heidi had a bunless burger. Absolutely superb.
Over the past several years, we’ve really grown a dislike for the chain burger places like Whataburger, Five Guys, etc. I’ve learned that most of these places simply add a bunch of stuff to their patties to make it taste good. The actual patties by themselves don’t taste that good. So we don’t go to such places. The only chain restaurant that serves a good hamburger is the Cracker Barrel. I know. Who would have thought it.
But I’m more inclined to find local joints for eating out.
Heidi and I decided, out of the two hamburger joints we’ve been to in Waco, this one was the better one by far. The other one, The Twisted Root Burger Co., was actually rated as the number 1 burger place in Waco. I think that poll was taken by Dominion.
“Boys? Can’t you see I’m trying to take a picture of Heidi?” I don’t think they could.
I unsnapped the canopy on the side of the bridge, and stuck my face outside, into the pouring rain. I’m sure I laughed. The rain was coming down so hard that I wanted to feel it on my face. It was something that any normal 14 year-old-boy would do. The yellow rain coat complete with a hood, kept the rest of me dry.
The boat broke through the waves as I held on, and I was fascinated by the bow splitting the water before us. I watched again, and again, hoping that each time we crashed through the oncoming swell, it would send out a watery tumult. We were heading directly through a storm in Galveston Bay, on our way to Clear Lake, Texas.
Like any storm, there was an element of danger, and I was afraid when my father first told me we would be encountering bad weather. Because of my Dad’s love of boats, I had grown up around the water enough to know that any storm on the water could be dangerous.
When I was younger, I heard of one such storm in which one lightning bolt hit six boats all at once, catching them all on fire, sending the occupants overboard for safety. My brothers and I were fascinated by the story, and more so when the burned-out hulls were lined up in a small lot next to the marina. The point was made: all storms on the water are dangerous enough to bring disaster. Boaters needed to be cautious and on their guard.
Going through the storm with my Dad was exciting and there was a trace of fear as we approached it. But, I was with my Dad. I always felt safe when he was in control, whether he was at the helm of the Oleek, driving his car, or later in life, flying his plane. My Dad is a stickler for the pre-flight check off list, even when he was the captain of the small boats he owned.
Once the family arrived at the slip where the Oleek resided, we were responsible for unloading the car and putting things away. Dad’s self-appointed responsibility was making sure the boat was sea worthy. That always entailed him climbing below the cabin deck where the two Chrysler 440 big-block engines rested. He checked the oil, and a dozen other things, making sure that both were ready to go to sea.
It didn’t matter where the destination was, Dad worked his way meticulously through the check list. We could be taking a quick trip out into Clear Lake, or a longer journey through the Kemah Channel, out into Galveston Bay, and beyond Bolivar Point into the Gulf of Mexico, but not without him going through the list.
As far as I know, we never complained. We just knew that Dad was doing what Dad had to do to make us safe.
So as well headed into that storm on Galveston Bay, I knew that we would be fine. I trusted Dad to get us through. Therefore, wave after wave, became more of an adventure. He even let me take helm as the rain battered against the cabin and the canvas canopy keeping us dry. It was magical, turning the wheel, feeling the boat going up and down as it crashed through the waves. It was much better than anything at Astroworld, especially because it was just me and Dad.
That fact, simple as it seemed, is the reason it is one of my favorite memories of my father. The reason is that I had four brothers, who were also around, vying for his time. And he had a new wife, my step-mother Liz, who captivated his time. To be able to spend time just with him, even though I lived with him, was monumental. It was rare.
The reason Liz wasn’t on our trip across the bay was because she had to drive the car from the Galveston Yacht Basin, where we picked up the Oleek, and would meet us at the basin in Clear Lake. You can see how rare the moment was. It didn’t happen a lot, and it’s one of the reason I do cherish the afternoon.
But there is more to it than that. I now have two boys who need my time just as much as I needed my father’s time. They even need that solo time with me. I know it doesn’t have to be much. A simple game of one-on-one basketball. A walk around the lake. Listening to the silly story of the day. Who knows what they will remember from their teen years, the way I remember my day with Dad and the Oleek. The goal is, to give them plenty of opportunities for that to happen.
“Dad, can I put my face outside in the rain?”
Silly question. Silly boy. Chuckling Dad.
“Sure son, if you want to.”
My face was drenched and the moment was the best: the rain, the boat, the storm, and especially Dad.
(Note: of the pictures, the Oleek is the one above.. The first two pictures below are of the Velda R, named after my mother. The boat with the flying bridge is the Roebuck. The only other boat like this that my Dad owned was the Happy Venture, which sank.)
Andrew, my oldest son, had a cross-country meet in Canton, TX, earlier this week. I was able to attend and managed to take a few shots. Since I’m not much into sports photography, I was surprised at some of the shots I captured.
You will see that he finished in 11:35, which we think is a decent time. Because of all the rain, they altered the course, and no one was sure how far they were actually running. They said it was about a mile and a half, but no one was sure about that.
You may also notice that Andrew is the tallest runner out there. Cross country is very similar to the marathon. It goes to the guy who is 5’2″ tall and weighs 90 lbs. I’m still proud of him for getting out there and giving it his best.
I’ve wanted to try some of these shots for a while. This one was in my mind’s eye, and Andy complied and made it come to pass. My goal was to have him stand really still, so that he would be in focus, while anyone else would be a blur. It worked.
All photos are copyright © Timothy J. Hammons, 2019.
