Just Riding Around

 

Note RDS

So whadya do on a Monday mid-afternoon? Go for a ride around Hill County, of course. Don't be shy, drive down 171 and slow down through Bynum, there's not much there to be honest. Then scream into Malone, which used to be a prosperous German town with a railroad station, until it wasn't. Still, it's got several saloons which I haven't tried out, maybe later. 

Next stop? Hubbard, aka Slap Out, because their general store was always slap out of goods. It's that way today, with a semi-derelict "high street" and relics of quondam prosperity, as in a few beautiful houses. Also, bear in mind, a small Anglican church where the Sacrament's reserved and the doors are open.

Hubbard's got a pool too, which looks awesome, and a war memorial in the form of a chopper. Stop, get out, and pay respect. After that, head to Irene. There's not much there and it's hard to tell where the farm ends and the town begins.

Dark Star

Fall back, mission accomplished, to the Compound, and wonder at the sheer demonic evil which has stripped these little towns of their prosperity. Keen-eyed readers will note that hideous windmills are lurching to the south east of this. Imagine the landfill. But you know what they say, gotta destroy the land to save the land. Big drinks all 'round.

Oh, did you hear about all of these Texan Democrat politicians who're about to be arrested for sheer, brazen malfeasance?

Cheers,

LSP 

A Trip To Slap Out

 

Hubbard Texas used to be known as Slap Out on account of their general store typically being slap out of provisions. As of the 2010 census the town was 1,423 persons strong and I like it, well put together for the most part with a lively feed store and a couple of shops and decent country restaurants. Their war memorial's especially impressive, a Cobra gunship which saw service in Vietnam before decommissioning in 1994, when 1 Cav gave it to the town.

After a tasty lunch of cheese enchiladas at Polos Italian Pizza restaurant, I drove over to a churchman's ranch for a sick call. What a great old man, in his 90s, a proud vet, Airforce I think, and an excellent horseman in his day. Pillar of the church to boot. He's weak now but clear of cancer, praise God.

On the way back I stopped in Malone, population 269. It's famous for being German and having saloons or bars, Muleskinners, Pair-A-Dice and Whiskey River. I haven't been in any of these but feel I should.

Whiskey River seems the best and it's owned by a friend who obstinately doesn't come to Mass but cheerfully lets me shoot at his back(ish) country range. A neat guy, a wiry landowner with a piercing eye and a serious, shooting safari hunter. I wish he was Senior Warden of Mission #1 but as it is we're allies.

Malone's also famous for its motel. You see, not so long ago this part of the world was dry, you couldn't get a drink because that was so wicked and unchristian, even though wine features rather strongly in the Bible. As in the Miracle at Cana and the Last Supper. 

No, not Dr. Pepper and non-alcoholic grape juice in a dixie cup. That in mind, people would drive from as far away as Corsicana, population 23, 770, to live it up at Malone's saloons, and then they'd stay in the motel. Smart.

So now you know. I love this part of Texas.

Shoot straight,

LSP