Austin Part 1: How to Find Narnia

There are few things better in this world than being a tourist in your own city, except perhaps being able to drag some unsuspecting schmucks along for the ride.  If said schmucks turn out to be a couple witty fun-loving blokes, well then America Joe you have all the edibles, drinkables, and explodables required for one heck of a 4th of July blowout . . . or to say it another way (if you're the Un-American Commie sort) a grand ol' time.  Funnily enough, I found myself in said circumstance when I returned to Austin.

I decided to give my patronage to an old firehouse turned into a hostel, aptly named the Firehouse Hostel.  Talk about a cool vibe.  Upon entering the hostel the receptionist informed me about the hostel bar's happy hour.  The entrance of the hostel was tiny.  There were stairs to my left, the receptionist dead ahead, and a bookshelf to my right.  I took in my surroundings and did a bit of spacial reasoning, and was a tad bit perplexed.  I asked where this obviously mini-bar was located.  To which the receptionist replied with this event, which I will explain visually:

     Why that just looks like an ordinary                  A handle!?  Well this bookshelf is                . . . Sweet Mary mother of Jesus;
      bookshelf.  Wonderfully firehouse                    becoming increasingly intriguing.                       Narnia!?  A magical place
      and Texas themed, but an ordinary                 What could possibly lay behind this                where fanciful creatures frolic
    bookshelf through and through.  Hold               gateway.  Could it be?  Dare I dream?             and the duchesse de bourgogne
the phone, what's that next to the firetruck?                                                                                                   flows like wine.

A God Damn Bar behind a bookshelf!  I transformed into Charlie walking into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory for the first time.  I stood, eyes wide, mouth agape, taking in the majesty.  The receptionist drug me (against my will) back to the real world and gave me the key to my room.  I ran upstairs (no joke, I literally ran) to throw my stuff on the bed and check out my new favorite place in the whole wide world.  As I opened the bookshelf and passed through into Narnia I was greeted by an empty, dimly lit, divey type of bar with a singular bartender.  It was as though he had been waiting there 29 years for me to find him.  We chatted about Austin for a bit, he caught me up on how my city had changed in my absence.  I decided to grab a beer, seeing how it was a bar and all.  They had two beers on tap, one of which was a rotation of local microbrews and the other was the house beer: duchesse de bourgogne.  My favorite beer on tap, at a bar behind a bookshelf, at a hostel in an old converted fire station.  I challenge anyone to present a better way to start a trip.  Trick question, it's impossible.  

Fast Forward: 

Place: Narnia/Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory/Firehouse Lounge  
Time: Early Evening.  
Atmosphere: Awesome with a few people at the bar.

The New East 6th:
 East 6th was the place to go in Austin
 for dive bars.  However, with the prolonged, sustained growth
 that Austin has enjoyed over the past few years, the scenes
 have changed.  The old local spots have become infested with
 new arrivals and tourists.  This has created a shift in the
nightlife.  The touristy Dirty 6th infiltrated the yuppie West 6th.
 The yuppie crowd moved down to the chill local strip
called Rainey Street.The self proclaimed 'true locals' moved
from Rainey  to the ol' divey hipster refuge on East 6th.  This
created some great outdoor bars opening east of I-35.
  Where did the hipsters move?  Who cares.

I had an amiable chat with a few recent Texas State grads at my new favorite place for a bit and decided to venture off and take on the night solo.  As I walked about I ran into the grads and said to myself, "Nuts to a night out alone; I'm hanging with these fine folk."  We combined our forces and had an entertaining, but not entirely memorable night.  We went to a jazz club, explored the new and much improved East 6th, and the people at The White Horse stole my debit card.  After a bit too many drinks these nice young Texas State Bobcats dropped me off at my hostel and we parted ways.  Back at the hostel I was greeted by an lively group of people partaking in a particularly energized chat.

The Soul of East 6th:
This picture above accurately portrays the soul of the new East 6th.  The old counterculture vibe can still be felt, but it's an after image of a time past.  The late 90's/00's Austin rebels still inhabit the area, but they have traded in their screw 'the man' mantra for families.  Now most patrons on East 6th want cool neighborhood bars with great food, great drinks, and  a great atmosphere.  The melding of the younger crowd moving over from Rainey and the old guard keeping it real while keeping it family friendly, have created some of the best places to go out in Austin.  Whisler's (best brandy old fashioned in Austin), the old standard:The White Horse, and the above pictured outdoor gem, Yellowjacket Social Club (which isn't on a road, but rather off railroad tracks) are the figureheads of the new East 6th.

Enter the Aussies.  I began talking with Dave (Aussie #1) inside the hostel and revealed my plans to venture to Hamilton Pool the next day.  We looked up some pictures and Dave was sold, so he asked to join.  To which I said, "Sure."  After a bit more energized conversation I ventured up to bed.

The next day Dave and our other roommate Andrew (Aussie #2) made preparations to head to the Pool of Hamilton.  I suggested that we grab some grub before we made the journey out to the Pool.  This is where I began dragging these unsuspecting Aussies to all my favorite places in Austin and all the places I had missed when I was a local.

Place number 1: An old favorite, Easy Tiger.

This is a gem hidden in the heart the touristy part of dirty 6th street.  It has a great selection beers, homemade breads, and in house cured meats.  It produces the best pastrami sandwich I have ever put in my mouth (New York delis have nothing on Easy Tiger).  We had a couple brews, some rockin' homemade beef jerky, and some gigantic sandwiches and headed to place number 2.

Place Number 2: Hamilton Pool - An Austin must visit . . . that I had never visited.

Hamilton Pool with its insane looking natural dome.  The
stalagtites are covered in plant growth.  It makes for a very surreal
point of view.  The stalagtites take on the guise of conifer trees, so
the dome's ceiling looks like an inverted ground with trees
growing upside down.  The green water is usually swimable.
On most days the pool will be packed with people, except for
the days when there is too much poop in the water.  On this day
there was too much poop in the water. 

Hamilton Pool is a beautiful pool partially covered with an insane looking natural dome. When we arrived at the pool we were greeted by an incredibly awkward park ranger who informed us that the e-coli levels were too high for swimming.  Drat.  Apparently the e-coli levels rise when the rains come.  This is due to the fertilizer runoff from the farms above the pool.  Translation: too much cow poop in the pool to swim.  Gross.  After having some very odd conversations with the young park ranger (see below) and tens of minutes of gawking at the natural beauty we loaded in the car and headed back to civilization.

This is a venomous snake that the Hamilton Pool
park ranger was guarding.  Not be be confused with a
poisonous snake, as the the ignorant Andrew
inaccurately assumed.  The kindly, and in no way
odd, park ranger cleared it up for us: venomous
animals deliver a toxin into their target
that debilitate said target.  Poisonous animals,
however, deliver a toxin into their target that
debilitate said target.  

Picture of a turtle not giving a fuck.

Back in civilization we began another epic quest to recover the credit card that had been stolen from me by Eric: a kindly, misunderstood lumbersexual bartender type.  However, the tale of Cale getting his debit card back will be told in the next installation of Peregrine Discipline.

Quick Tangent to End the Tale: There are two modern day bastions for wandering souls. Coincidentally these are two of my favorite places in the whole wide world.  What are they?  Airport bars and hostels.  

First up airport bars: Every person who ambles up to an airport bar alone is there to meet other adventurers.  It is the most social place in the world.  Any spark of conversation and all at the bar become instant friends for a few minutes and possibly longer.  An added bonus is that everyone is either heading on an adventure or coming back from one, so the conversations are always interesting. 

Segue to . . .  

The Moral of the Story: Hostels are where interesting people gather and this people meeting resource is grossly underutilized by Americans.

Where interesting people gather

Very few people stay at hostels to avoid human interaction.  At every single hostel I have stayed (except for my first experience in Houston) I have chatted up, made friends with, and hit the town with people from the hostel.  Hostels naturally attract the fun, independent, and social. However, hostel culture is foreign to us yanks.  It's odd for Americans to share a space with strangers. However the trade of privacy for a social sanctuary for adventurers is more than worth the price of admission. My return to Austin would have been a much different experience without my new Aussie friends, and what made it possible? Hostels.

Start hosteling America. 

The Resonance Friendship: San Antonio

There are friends in our life that we will have forever.  I do not mean our closest friends (although of what I am about to speak may apply to them as well), or the friends we see every day.  I am talking about a resonance friendship.  

These are the people who we instantly connect with and the connection never weakens.  No matter the years or the miles apart, the resonance friendship never degrades.  I have been fortunate to have many of these in my life (#blessed).

Some are probably thinking, "But Cale aren't those your closest friends?"  Good question nameless reader, but I say nay.  A close friend to me is one who we make the time to see either weekly, monthly, or yearly based on proximity.  A resonance friend is a different breed.  

I will explain this context in great detail using the following anecdote.  In order to give a starting frame of reference: I consider Jason Voss from my previous post to be one.  

I packed up my beam machine and left College Station to meet up with another; Christopher Robinson.

This is the friendship that began my brain bubbling with the notion of the resonance friendship.  I met Chris at reception (good ol' 30th AG to those of you in the know) for basic training back in 2008.  In my 6 year army career (to include 2 deployments, my tutelage under at least 1 megalomaniac, and my graduate level study at Ranger School) reception was by far the most miserable period.  Weird sleep deprivation for in-processing tasks (hair cuts, briefings, and line standing), the slow revelation that I knew nothing about the army, and being surrounded by others which knew less: these all coalesced to make reception into a special type of misery.  

Luckily, I was older than the average GI Joe.  This gave me one decided advantage: I knew bullshit when I heard it.  Well, I usually knew bullshit when I heard it.  Chris was older as well, so we were able to chat about topics other than our inevitable 50 year army commitment.

It sounds like the beginning of a wonderful friendship, right?  Well we hung out for all of 3 days and then shipped off to basic.  We were in different platoons in basic training, which meant we saw very little of each other.

This is the last time I saw Chris before we met back up in San Antonio.  This is basic training graduation circa 2008 with our good friend Robert Chiang holding down the middle spot.

Let's move this story along 2 years.  

I am a fresh faced Lieutenant on my first deployment, slowly learning the ways of war on my patrol base south of Mosul, Iraq.  Chris is keeping army jets from colliding from the control tower in Mosul.  We became aware of each others' close proximity and scheduled a meet and greet.  However, this meeting never came to fruition.

Pretty anti-climactic eh?  Well let's fast forward to the more recent past.  When I started this blog I initially posted my route so old friends could contact me.  Many of them did.  Chris, however, was not one of them.  

The end.

Just kidding, he let me know that he was in San Antonio, so I penciled him in for the post College Station trip.  This was my first San Antonio trip as an adult.  

I met up with Chris at his place and we began by chatting.  We talked about the different paths our army careers had taken.  The experience of an officer is much different than that of an enlisted soldier.  I would hear this tale at few more times on my trip.  It is 100% true.  I can say with absolute certainty that I would be a different person if I had enlisted rather than commissioned.

Following a few war stories, we hopped in the car and headed to a local brewery called Freetail Brewery.  It was a brewery with some rocking food (the brisket cheese-steak was so nice I had it twice) and some really nice beers.  They had 3 sours on tap, if you know Cale Bakken, you know he's a son of a gun who likes his sours.  We drank, we ate, we got some cigars and returned to Chris's place.

We talked all night, we smoked all night, we drank all night, and I woke up the next morning feeling a full cigar enhanced mega-hangover.

Now this is where the story loses its force.  Old friends falling back into an old rhythm hardly makes for a good read.  We didn't go anywhere, we just drank, and talked for 2 days and 2 nights, and it was great fun.

San Antonio ended unceremoniously.  There was no grand farewell, there was no grand blow out night; it wasn't need.  It was a great time, chatting and chilling with a friend.  Allow me to apply an old adage to resonance friendship. "The ability to pickup where you left off" is the enduring characteristic of a resonance friendship, be it 15 minutes or 6 years.

According to Google this is a map of San Antonio . . . allegedly.  The red pin to the north is the part of San Antonio I saw.

Since this is a pseudo-travel blog here is my final analysis of San Antonio:  No idea.  Could be a cool city, could be the worst city in the U.S.  I have no idea.  I saw Freetail Brewery, which was rocking.  

So,

My reformed take on San Antonio:  Freetail Brewery is awesome.  That is all.