On Sulfur Creek
Last Friday we went to visit Liila in the hospital. The doctors think she's having an allergic reaction to some antibiotics she was taking.
It's amazing what you can learn just by listening. I learned the following interesting facts while listening to some girls' conversation: If you have a urinary tract infection, drinking a lot of cranberry juice is a good thing. Yeast infections can be cured with a clove of garlic (just make sure you tie some floss around it for... um... easy.. removal...). Urination after intercourse should be practiced. If this is not possible, drink a lot of cranberry juice.
I left Austin Saturday morning. I took a bus to the northwest edge of the city, bought a hat and some socks (I'm still not sure how I lost that one), then started walking. I was going north on SR 183 for a while, but it seemed like a pretty busy highway, so I got off to go along another road. Lakeside Road runs parallel to 183, but after a while the road ended and I had to turn east or west. I chose west.
The morning of the second day I got up and continued going west on Crystal Something-or-Rather Road. I wasn't walking for very long when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a car slowing down beside me. I turned my head and saw that it was a cop. Not just a cop, a sheriff. Up to this point I had been avoiding police because I figured they would generally dislike me and what I was doing. I didn't expect this sheriff to arrest me for walking down the side of the road, but I didn't think anything good would come from it. He had his window rolled down. "Where you headin', boy?" I realized how ridiculous it would sound had I said, "Tucson." From looking at the map I knew there was a small town nearby, but I couldn't remember the name. After some mumbling, I said, "Lubbock." Even as I said this, I knew it sounded no less ridiculous. It would take me two and a half weeks to walk to Lubbock. "Boy, you goin' in the wrong direction. Lubbock is due north; you're going west." This wasn't news to me. I had a compass and knew exactly what direction I was going. Furthermore I had a map and knew that Lubbuck was not due north, but actually about thirty degrees west of north. I explained that I had been on 183, but turned off of it and now could only go west. The officer then kindly informed me that the road I was on was a dead end, that 183 was the only northbound road around, and that if I turned around and went the other direction I would meet back up with it. I thanked him and he drove off.
Later that afternoon it seemed like I had been walking for days. I was walking on the left side of the road so as to not look like a hitch hiker. I'm not sure what the laws about that are in Texas, and I'm not sure that I would trust a stranger outside of Austin to give me a ride. I was, for the most part, out in the middle of nowhere. I passed by a house on the other side of the road that had two dogs in the yard. One of the dogs started barking and running toward me. I stopped to watch it thinking it would stop at the end of its yard. It didn't. The woman was screaming for it to come back, but the dog kept running toward me. I didn't say anything or call out; I just put my hand forward, as if this gesture could stop either the dog or the oncoming traffic. The sound of the van hitting the dog was quite loud. It was a white van. The woman was still screaming, but now at the man running into the street to retrieve his dead dog. The van pulled over and stopped, but the driver didn't get out to do anything. It just waited a moment, then continued on its way. I started moving towards the man to ask him if he needed any help, but he was back to the other side of the road before I had taken two steps. I thought about going over there, but I didn't really know what I could have done or said. I just waited a moment, then continued on my way.
Later down the road a mexican guy offered me some beer and grilled chicken. I wasn't sure how he would react if I told I was a vegetarian and didn't drink, so I just said, "No, thanks."
I arrived in Lampasas (pop. 6786, some 67.5 miles northwest of Austin) yesterday afternoon. There's a nice park here with a river running through it. I thought it smelled kind of funny, but then I saw the sign that said, "Sulfur Creek." They have a public library with internet access.
Washing your hair in a sink is difficult. Texas is not a good place to be when you run out of gas. When you wake up and realize that you had been sleeping next to some kind of animal carcass, eating unwashed celery is not that big of a deal. The fact that bread is squished does not diminish its taste value. Coughing up mucus could be interpreted two ways: I really am sick and possibly have bronchitis, or I'm starting to get better.
There's not a greyhound station in Lampasas, but there is in Killeen, a mere 30.6 miles away. I hear there are some nice hot springs in New Mexico.
Curses, before I left Austin I forgot to buy me a pair of those pink short-shorts with "Longhorns" written across the butt. I guess I'll have to go back.
And for those of you thinking of visiting the famous Barton Springs in Texas, here's your quote of the day:
"There is currently no public ordinance in Austin prohibiting women or men from going topless."
Response to a Letter to the Editor complaining of a lack of dress code at public swimming areas.