This is Where the Stories Live

Last month I took an extra day off work in order to introduce the dog to the Pedernales River. I think this is one of the most beautiful places in Texas. Benny spends most car rides hanging his head off the back seat, but he actually sat up to look out the window once we got close.

These trees — Black Cypress, I think.

Cypress TreesThis river — all the warnings about flash flooding bring me in closer.

Pedernales RiverWhen I’m here I think this must be where all the stories live. Other worlds filled with sprites and fairies tending the banks, or the ghosts of adventurous little girls with scrapped knees and mud under their nails all appear to me.

I can’t help but see these as ghost trees.

Ghost TreesBeing October at the time, I’d hoped for cooler weather on our hike. Instead it was hot. So very hot. I was worried that 10 minutes into our 5.5 mile hike I’d want to pack it all in for a burger and good porter. Or a stout ’cause I don’t want to be picky. So, along with my peanut butter sandwich, green apple and other snacks I packed one for the top. (And packed it all back out again, too.)

‘Cause I deserved it. The Top and a BeerIt is very important to drink water too. Now, if anyone could please teach me how to drink from this straw. I have to twist off the cap every time. waterExcept it was the dog begging for a burger. The whole entire hike. Every site of interest…

Random rock wall.

Random Rock WallNicely done cairn.

Rock and Wood CairnDon’t walk here.

Don't walk here…every time I stopped and some of the times I didn’t he’d lay down on the side of the trail. (Don’t feel sorry for him, he had his own large water bottle, snacks, and got some of my food.)

Time for another restAt the bottom, he dipped his paws in the river and came alive again. Which, even though tired from dragging a 60 pound dog up and down a big hill, I get. I wanted to let him off the leash to run wild like the animal he is. I’d lose track of him as I splashed and laughed in the river like the animal I am. He’d run back, scared but excited over how far he roamed. Or, I’d whistle, listening for the telltale jingle of his tags, until he appeared again. That’s not allowed, however. I made him leave a stick, a dog, all the people, and the river behind for our last upward slope back to the car.

Obligatory selfie with Benny looking far away.

UsIt’s kind of a theme in our explorer pictures.

From last weekend.

Us again

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