Deep in the heart of...

One thing you notice about Texas, and perhaps it has to do with its governor, Rick Perry (who has talked about seceding from the union), is that Texans tout the Lone Star flag even more than the stars and stripes, if they fly the stars and stripes at all. What on earth is that all about????

Which brings us to the hometown, birthplace and final resting place of our 36th President, Lyndon Baines Johnson, who was very much the flag-waving patriot.

Welcome to Johnson City, Texas, west of Austin in the Texas Hill Country, on the beautiful ??? Pedernales River.

...where somehow a store selling furniture and ammo doesn't even raise an eyebrow. Remember: don't mess with Texas or that Lone Star flag.

Johnson City does its best to keep this historic spot spic-and-span, but couldn't they have at least taken in the trash cans?

This is the old Johnson City jail, undergoing refurbishing, where Sir Walter Raleigh was held before he was put to the ax. Or so we were told.

Everything's better with bluebonnets on it. Johnson City and the Hill Country are awash in carpets of color, a legacy of Lady Bird, who made it her life's work to cover Texas and the rest of America in wildflowers.

(The bluebonnet is the Texas state flower.)

Lady Bird's was christened "Claudia" but was told by her nanny that she was "as purty as a lady bird". A "lady bird" is another name for a "lady bug". The name "Lady Bird", not "bug", became her official moniker. Better to be a bird than a bug, I suppose.

Lady Bird was a true "lady": classy, kind, elegant, and talented. She had a head for business and after LBJ's death amassed a fortune with Texas-based radio and television stations.

Here's where LBJ was born on the family farm fourteen miles west of town in 1908. This is a reconstruction of the original house. His ancestors are said to have fought raiding Comanches to establish a small farm which grew into a large cattle ranch.

Quite frankly, Daisy didn't give a hoot about any of this. She just wanted to hit the ground and chase the cattle. Not a good thing for a dog to do at a much-venerated national historic site.

This is LBJ shortly before his passing in 1973. Or so we were told. I think it's actually little Lyndon at age six months.

This is Lyndon, a.k.a. "Billy the Kid", at age fourteen. He already towers over the little lady at the right, a.k.a. "Bonnie Parker".

Them's cattle.

The Texas White House remains part of this working cattle ranch. Here's where Lyndon would retreat from the overwhelming pressures of the Vietnam War that was eventually his undoing both politically and physically, taking an enormous toll on his heart.

A long landing strip accommodated the aircraft which brought the family and dignitaries to the ranch during LBJ's presidency. Visitors would carve their names onto cement blocks called "friendship stones" which form the low wall that you see behind the sign.

You expect an almost a Bonanza-style huge ranch house given the stature of the family and the man, when in fact Johnson's place remains a rather small, simple wood-frame structure.

It reminded me of Graceland in Memphis, a relatively unimposing house given the fame and wealth of its owner, Elvis Presley.

There are actually two parks dedicated to President Johnson. One in Johnson City and the other at the ranch outside town. Check it out at www.nps.gov/lyjo


Nearby is the cemetery where LBJ and Lady Bird are at rest side-by-side. No opulent edifice here. Just two simple headstones surrounded by those of other family members.

But now for something really important. Back in Johnson City, a billboard touting the world's best chicken fried steak. As far as we're concerned, the ultimate in road food.

The Hill Country Cupboard claims nearly "three dozen sold". Them Texans, they's a hoot.

Not the best we've had but darn good. Only who threw in those healthy green beans? Actually chicken fried steak is better at breakfast with scrambled eggs and biscuits topped by more gravy in place of a vegetable.

The best chicken fried steak we've ever had was in a smoke-filled casino called "Terrible Herbst's" in Pahrump, Nevada. Even the waitress, who called everyone "honey" or "sugar" or "baby" was smoking a cigarette bringing our plates to the table. Believe me, that's the kind of atmosphere you need to down a gut bomb like this.

But for a good, inexpensive meal in Johnson City, esto donde esta. This is where it's at: the El Rancho Mexican Restaurant. Only $11 for two. Mexican-style Mexican.

And here's where we stayed--the Miller Creek RV Park. Highly recommended. But again, where are the stars and stripes?


For you present and wanna-be RVers, Miller Creek has plenty of amenities: a free lending library (take a book, leave a book), a new laundry room, and a comfortable den with a huge circular fire pit. There are also small cabins for rent and a lush grassy area for overweight dogs like Daisy to run or to sit, which she prefers to do.

Enough with the Texas-themed flags already. Remember the Alamo and what happened to those uppity Texans? They got their come-uppance, so to speak.

Them Texans. They's a hoot.

This is Miller Creek that runs alongside the RV park. It really is a pretty little spot. Very nice folks run the place.

Several times a month they cook up and serve meals in the clubhouse. A full breakfast costs just a couple of bucks. They'll have live music -- a bluegrass gospel group when we were there-- and they make fresh waffles in the shape of, what else?....

TEXAS!  No surprise there.

Finally, Paul takes a bite out of the Lone Star State.

Daisy, after downing fourteen waffles, finally hits the deck to round up them cattle. And we are headed back to the barn and Arizona. Our next adventure begins June 28. I bet you can't wait. Only we can no longer tout our "new" 2010 trailer. 'Cause the 2011s are already out. See ya!