And so to Texas, home of the Stetson, the oil tycoon and Miss Ellie. We were accompanied on this little jaunt by two friends from D.C., Robert & Alexis, who had bravely volunteered to guide Alex through his first foray into cowboy country. After a 3+ hour flight, during which Alex achieved official Angel Baby status (as we left the plane, a lady actually whispered to us that 'yours was the best-behaved baby on the plane', which is pretty much our proudest moment as parents thus far), we arrived at Dallas-Fort Worth airport just as the heavens opened. A torrential downpour prevented us from leaving the plane for several minutes and our baggage arrived somewhat soggier than it had been at check-in, but fortunately this was all we saw of Hurricane (now Tropical Storm) Alex for the duration of the trip. After a small mishap in the restroom when young Alex ended up with purple nail varnish on his bottom (I have since identified the colour as 'Cowgirl Up China Glaze Nail Polish', part of the 'Rodeo Diva' Collection) and a rather humid fifteen minute bus journey to the car rental office, we boarded the small tank we had hired for our mini road trip. Upon loading the bags into the back of the SUV, we couldn't help but notice that there was a slight contrast in the quantity of luggage. The Shercliffs had brought a large suitcase, a big holdall, a travel cot, a stroller, two rucksacks, a diaper bag, a car seat and a baby. Robert and Alexis each had one small carry-on suitcase.
After checking in at our hotel, we hit the streets in search of large platters of meat and some local entertainment. This was the first time that Alex had ever been permitted to have a night out on the town, and what a night it was. We took the young man out for beers and a BBQ meal at Sonny Bryan's Steakhouse, a Dallas institution. Alex opted for a liquid supper, whilst the rest of us managed to consume incredible amounts of pulled pork, sliced brisket, chicken wings, tasty ribs and gigantesque onion rings. Sadly, I must admit that we gave the Frito pie a miss (a 'crisp casserole' sounded as inedible as the poutine we tasted in Vancouver). Robert foolishly attempted to order a glass of vino rather than a local beer; the Texan waiter told him that the wine list consisted of 'red, white and chardonnay'.
Stomachs bulging, we headed off to the Mesquite Championship Rodeo, a 25 minute drive from downtown Dallas. We were rather unsure what to expect, but the rodeo was, without doubt, the best night out I have ever had in America. The whole spectacle was phenomenally entertaining. There are six or seven standard events: saddle bronc riding and bareback bronc riding (cowboys on wild buckaroo-style horses); tie-down roping (cowboy on horse attempting to lasso a calf by its head and then tie three of its legs together); team roping (ditto but with two cowboys on horses chasing one calf); steer wrestling (slightly bonkers event where the cowboy on horse races after a steer, then jumps from horse onto steer and wrestles it to the ground by its horns); barrel racing (cowgirls on horses racing around three barrels) and bull riding (you can guess this one). My favourite event was the tie-down roping, which is really impressive when done properly. Like this:
(I just looked up Clint Cooper on Google. I'm assuming that the Clint Cooper on Wikipedia who is 'an actor in gay pornography' is not the same Clint Cooper who came seventh in the National Finals Rodeo in the tie-down roping competition. Although I guess rodeo is a seasonal job and I'm not sure that the $32,000 that he won in Las Vegas would be enough to support him for too long. And it does appear that Clint hasn't featured on the rodeo circuit for some time...).
Anyway, the whole premise of the rodeo competition is that the participants have to complete each discipline as quickly as possible or, if they happen to be astride something with four legs, to stay mounted for more than 8 seconds. Coincidentally, 8 seconds is the average attention span of your average US citizen (this is true). Consequently rodeo is the perfect spectator sport. It is the sporting equivalent of flicking through the TV channels with the remote. Another factor that makes the rodeo so engagingly watchable is the amateur competitions between the professional events, which seem to involve humiliating young children for the benefit of the watching adults. And great fun it was too. The mutton bustin' exceeded even my highest expectations - most of the children didn't manage to hang on for more than a second, and some poor kids fell off before the sheep even passed through the gate into the arena. As the announcer pointed out, Texan parents can get themselves arrested for slapping their child in Wal-Mart, but no-one turns a hair if they strap them to a 200lb sheep and send them out in front of 5,000 spectators. Equally amusing was the 'calf scramble' (a 'dash for cash' where hundreds of children pile into the arena and go chasing after a couple of calves in an attempt to be the first to snatch the ribbons on their tails and win some loot).
However, the award for strangest entertainment of the night went to Team Ghost Riders, truly one of the freakiest things I have ever seen. Three monkeys riding collie dogs herd three goats into a pen. Very odd but completely compelling. You have to watch this to see what I mean:
It occurred to me that if Alex lost a bit of weight we could probably enter him into Team Ghost Rider as an additional attraction. He's got the outfit already, so with a bit of training he could be ready to go for next season. And it probably pays better than mutton bustin'.
We had such a sensational time at the rodeo that there was only one possible destination, one place in the entire state, that could top our night out with the cowboys. And so the following day we headed to Southfork Ranch, in Parker, a small town 20 miles north of Dallas. And, yet again, Texas came up trumps. We spent a fantastically funny morning traipsing around the ranch, admiring Miss Ellie's bedroom, JR's bathroom and the horrendous family portraits (the one of Sue Ellen was spectacularly gruesome). It was magical stuff and we felt right at home.
The ranch itself was used for all the exterior filming between 1978 and 1989 - yep, all those pool parties took place right here. A couple of special episodes were shot inside, but the vast majority of the interior filming was done in studios in California. The original owners of the ranch continued to live in the mansion until the gawping tourists became too unbearable and in 1985 Southfork became an official tourist attraction. Today it is used as a conference and event center - there were two weddings being held later on the day we visited. Amusingly kitsch indeed, although given the marital history of the Ewing family, I don't imagine a Southfork wedding would be the most auspicious start to wedded bliss.
We finally managed to drag ourselves away from the ranch (although not before visiting the Ewing museum and gift shop and purchasing some very tasteful mementoes) and headed back into Dallas. We visited the JFK Memorial Plaza and The Sixth Floor Museum, which was very interesting if (unsurprisingly) somewhat heavy on the conspiracy theories. We sought relief in the newly opened Museum Cafe, where one can watch video images of JFK and Jackie on the day of the assassination whilst tucking into a goat cheese salad and cupcakes.
And then, after driving rather somberly down Dealey Plaza and over the white 'X' marked on the road, we hit the highway en route to Austin, in search of some alternative culture and 1.5 million Mexican freetail bats.
Great reading Emma, so empathise with you on the luggage front, imagine what it is like for a us!! The last airport trip a young couple could barely hide their chins dropping to the floor as they saw our 3 large suitcases, 1 travel cot, 1 buggy, 1 holdall, 3 children's rucksacs, 1 adult rucksac, 1 handbag, 1 car seat and one boaster seat!!!!!
Posted by: Sarah | August 30, 2010 at 05:06 PM