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Day Roving
Wandering West Sixth Antiques and Art, Where the Only Muscle You Might Flex is the One You Use to Whip Out Your Credit Card.
General Area: Sixth St. From Lamar to Four or Five Blocks West.
Suggested itinerary: 3-5pm.
Our rambling began at Whit Hanks. We parked in the shadow of the Treaty Oak, a tree whose tragic history can move me to tears. (But he’s still hanging in there, even sporting a new flush of leaves.) Once inside Whit Hanks, my hands involuntarily locked together behind my back, the result of years of early training by my mom every time we entered a store selling any breakable items. Still, I stroked all the armoires and rugs and ship’s lanterns and asparagus tongs with my eyes. After an hour, we suffered antiquity overload and hit the sidewalk just as the Great Auto Migration began. Our first great discovery was right across Baylor when we spied a small sign on a door on the other side of an inviting courtyard: “The Dog Show.” The word “dog” sucked me across the courtyard and into Stephen Clark’s new gallery and a photographic feast of dogs by artists like Elliot Erwitt, Ave Bonar, and my favorite, Keith Carter. (The dog show may be closed by the time this hits the newsstands, but Clark assured us more photo exhibits are on the way.) We window-shopped down the south side of Sixth, passing a rug store, a slipcover shop, a florist, an art gallery, a chic salon where you can eat a bagel and sip wine while your hair curls, Hunter Ceiling Fans, and an out-of-place Pizza Hut. We ducked into Robuck Antiques as they were closing; 15 hours, much less 15 minutes, is hardly enough time to assimilate all the treasures in this jam-packed shop. Then, by merely crossing the street to Travelfest, we journeyed thousands of miles beyond Austin, at least in our imaginations, as we thumbed through travel guides and magazines and watched videos about Mexico and Indonesia. Exhausted from all our consumer lust, we plopped down at an outdoor table at Brio for a beer and a snack while the rest of the world raced by.
Rambling Down the Avenue
Architecture and History, Where You Promenade in the Footsteps of Mirabeau B. Lamar, Theodore Roosevelt, LBJ, and Lilly Langtry.
General Area: Congress Avenue From 11th St. south to the River.
Itinerary: Night time is the right time, when anything can happen. (One night we scrambled along behind a man, gathering up the bits of five- and one-dollar bills he was shredding.) Or begin about one hour before sunset to catch the bats as they exit the Congress Avenue Bridge at dusk.
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Our first stop? A little garden growing at the corner of 11th & Congress, amidst the remains of the 1881 interim Capitol. Historical markers sprouting from the herb beds note illustrious events which occurred on this site, like the meeting of the first semester of the University of Texas in 1884, or some fellow who pushed a wheelbarrow here in the 1880s loaded with $100,000 in cash. After a cursory glimpse of the Capitol and Governor’s Mansion, we turned out attention to the Avenue.
Although Emily is partial to the old buildings, like the grandly restored Walter Tips Building (700 block) or the Old Bakery Building (1006 Congress), she still appreciates the modern towers. At least some of them. She thinks the building designed by the Chicago firm of Skidmore Owens & Merrill which now houses Boatman’s Bank “has the best proportions.” Personally, I hope some of the architects responsible for some of the contemporary atrocities — perverse marriages of slick marble and chrome, bulky pediments, and tinted glass — have found their just rewards designing mobile homes in Louisiana or discotheques in Cancun.
Emily’s appreciation of detail was contagious. We stopped to stroke the Austin common brick that surfaced here and there. We admired the bells carved into the face of the 1889 office of Southwestern Telegraph and Telephone and the bust of Colonel Driskill’s son who peered at us from atop the Driskill Hotel. And we acknowledged the beautiful irony of three high-tech companies — makers of computer games — who are comfortably clustered together in noble old buildings in the 400 block of the Avenue.
If we hadn’t had Emily along, we would have made sure we picked up one of the guide booklets of historic walking tours available at the Austin History Center or Austin Convention and Visitors’ Bureau (201 East Second, 478-0098). In addition to the Congress Avenue and East Sixth St. booklet, they also offer walking guides of Hyde Park, the Texas State Cemetery, and the Bremond Block.
Wild Basin Wilderness
Waterfalls and Animal Tracks, Where Nature Thrives Smack Dab in the Middle of Boomtown.
General Area: Off Loop 360, 11/2 miles north of Bee Caves Road.
Itinerary: Open from sunrise to dark, special tours include moonlight hikes and stargazing. Call 327-7622 for more information.
I had this 227-acre park all to myself one overcast Friday afternoon. The morning’s rains had transformed some of the steep trails leading to the waterfalls into tiny waterfalls themselves. Not technically a “stroll” once you veer off the easy access trail, this jaunt is not for the faint-of-heart nor high-of-heel. But the wonder of this park’s very existence in this land of high-end housing developments, ribbons of concrete, and office buildings that spring up like kudzu is worth the cardiovascular workout. I tramped along the three miles of trails, along the edge of scenic overlooks, across creeks whose gurgling just managed to drown out the road noise of Loop 360, and through thick groves of cedar, Spanish oak, Texas persimmon, and yaupon. I pondered just how many shades of green there were. Along Possum Creek Trail, I spied the spot where all the dirt from the towering limestone hills had wound up. The gummy mud made a great canvas for deer tracks and the splay-toed prints of raccoons. When I reached the plunge pool, fed by dueling waterfalls and laced with maiden hair ferns, I plopped down on a bench and wondered why I thought I had to travel to the jungles of Belize or the mountains of New Mexico for a taste of nature when it’s right here in the midst of my city.
This article appears in May 23 • 1997 and May 23 • 1997 (Cover).