Tourin' Texas Free Monthly Newsletter

Tourin' Uncertain Texas

UNCERTAIN, TEXAS:  Without the city limits sign folks might not believe there is a town called Uncertain.  Ms. Intrepid decided all on her own to pull Nigel the Land Rover over for a little proof.

Story & Photos by IRA KENNEDY

Being a woman and all, Ms. Intrepid had several possible destinations for this adventure.  Being a guy with a fair hold on my feminine side (which thankfully doesn’t show up in any mirrors),  I did what every rational feller in my position would do.  I said, “Sure, Honey, that sounds great (without an exclamation mark.)  The truth be known, I really didn’t care.

Consider this.  If you’ve never been to this place or that, you have no way of knowing for certain which is best.  And if you go here instead of there, you’re still somewhere.  And besides you’ll never know the difference anyway.  Let’s just say I was uncertain.

B.jpg (7557 bytes)ut when I saw Ms. Intrepid pondering our Roads of Texas map book and looking at a section of East Texas I started caring quick.  Fact is, I’m kinda shy regarding that section of Texas.  It’s those pine trees all bunched up together, tight and tall, that give me the willies… I get claustrophobic-y just thinking about it.
            Fact is, Ms Intrepid has had her mind set for some time on Caddo Lake.   Don’t ask me why.  I’ve always figured that the less you know about a woman the more mysterious she becomes.  And too, it cuts down on a lot of stuff I’m expected to remember.
            Then I saw it!  On the map, right there on the banks of the Caddo, was Uncertain, Texas.  It was like some omen or something. or maybe my hometown in a past life.  Ok, maybe it was just cute.  Besides, if you’re anywhere near a town with a weird name, you oughta go give it a look.
            We weren’t even half way near.  Out yonder isn’t far enough either.  It’s waaaayy out yonder (pronounced ow’chonder ).  The trip meant spending the night somewhere which meant spending money.  I’m one of those folks who get buyer’s remorse when they get two hot dogs at a convenience store.
            Shopping around isn’t high on my fun list either, but it only seemed sensible to check out the motels in Uncertain on the Internet.  Grab a hold!  Some of these places run $100 a night and up.  When I was a boy in Blanco I coulda rented a house for two months with that money and had enough left over to eat chicken fried steak at the Blanco Bowling Alley Café every night for a week.
            I found a place in Uncertain for $40 a night and the pictures of the place looked just fine – besides it was only one night.  So Ms. Intrepid called, left a message, and they never called back.
            I forgot to mention the part about the weather.  The weatherfolks were calling for rain Saturday and Sunday, so Wednesday afternoon Ms. Intrepid decided we should leave Thursday after work and stay at the Victorian Inn & Suites in Nacogdoches where we had stayed one night a year ago to the month.
            “That sounds great,” I said knowing all along that somewhere there is a parallel universe where I’m leaving on Friday morning like we planned.   “Sometimes,” to quote a poet I once knew, “you’ve gotta throw away the reins”.  (Which I had done months ago when I surrendered the driving part of Ms. Intrepid so I could ponder, take pictures and eventually get nearly car sick trying to read the teeny-tiny type on the map.)
            It was past dark when we took off so all I had to do was concentrate on the pondering while Ms. Intrepid took us up Highway 21 all the way to Nacogdoches avoiding IH35 altogether.  And the night-time was fine with me ‘cause we could breeze right through Lost Pines without me being reminded of the landscape all scrunched up and looming overhead just up the road about six hours or so.
            In preparation I went and picked up a few necessities.  Like salami, cured ham, two kinds of crackers, three kinds of cheese ( pimento is Ollie’s favorite), soda, chips, dip and Rolaids.  Some $45 worth in all.  I was getting a wallet-ectomy; the hard way.
            Night driving holds plenty of mystery.  All yellow stripes, headlights and faintly lit homes set back well off the road.  The “what you suppose that is?” cluster of buildings that slid past before we could both get a good look.  And, somewhere near Nacogdoches, a fox darted back into the underbrush as quick as thought.TurnA.jpg (4971 bytes)
            Sometime around 11 PM we arrived at the motel.  I was worn to the nub from all that pondering and before long was dreaming of pine trees growing up right through the floor.


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Texas Hill Country Wine: Torrie de Pietra Vineyards and Winery near Fredericksburg Texas