Texas is big. I know, y'all know that. But it's hard to understand how big until you drive across it. Mile upon mile of scrub and tumbleweed, punctuated by the occasional barbecue shack. And we went across Route 10, which is down at the bottom of the state where it's narrow!
Brush with the Texas Rangers (or some kind if cop-- my inner 10-year-old likes the concept of a Texas Ranger). I was doing 87 in an 80 (!) mile zone when I saw blinking lights in the mirror. The cop said that since I was only doing 87, he was only going give me a warning. We celebrated my narrow escape with brisket sandwiches at one of the fifty best barbecue joints in Texas.
Then we got to the Border Patrol checkpoint. NOTE-- this is NOT at the border, and we won't be crossing the border for several hundred miles. It's just I-10 that goes NEAR the border. All vehicles must stop and the passengers must show ID. And the guy with the dog walks past the car. And the dog stops and points his nose at the car. And the agent says "Sir, I need you to park your car over there." And two guys in fatigues politely ask us to get out of the car and tell us not to put our hands in our pockets. Then they explain that we have been stopped because the dog is interested in our car, and the dog is only interested in concealed humans and drugs. "I guess there aren't any people in there," he says, pointing his chin at the trunk of the VW. Meanwhile the dog has climbed into the car. "So do you have any narcotics, amphetamines, cocaine, crack, marijuana?" We shake our heads no. Then the dog jumps out of the car and the handler says "Clear" and the other guy in fatigues looks lightly disappointed and says "OK, you can go."
Can a dog catch a cold?
Finally, we arrive in Austin too late to hear any music. Instead, we sing Karaoke in a (mercifully) empty bar and go to sleep.
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