Cowboys, Steaks and Yellow Roses – A Week in the Lone Star State

I spent most of last week in Irving, a ‘burb of Dallas, Texas. Dangit, but they’re right! Everything in Texas is BIG.

The airport at Dallas-Fort Worth proclaims that it is as large as Manhattan. I cannot verify that for you, but they could well be right…

Irving is, they tell me, much like all the other ‘burbs of Dallas. Freeways, intersections, and strip malls. Not hugely pretty.

The weather was odd – incredibly hot and intense sunshine in the day followed by the most torrential downpours late at night. It felt hotter here at times, than in Southern India.

The food – oh my god, the food! It’s pretty dangerous: Steaks, ribs, chops, chillies, and BBQ sauce everywhere. I’m not sure I’d survive if I lived here, but it does taste good. I’ve never craved an undressed lettuce leaf so much as by the end of the week.

In my brief time here, I got an impression of Texas being a ‘state apart’. They definitely have their own identity. In some respect, it’s a bit like Yorkshire. Both places see themselves as being the largest state/county (more on that later) and the people tell it to you straight. For example, I was once introduced to an old Yorkshire man, and I said something like, ‘Pleased to meet you. How are you?’ He proceeded to tell me in minute detail. ‘I’ve got a twisted bowel with three openings’ he told me. I suppose I asked… Anyway, my point is that I can see that happening in Texas.

As such, Texas didn’t seem overly sophisticated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Having said that, uptown Dallas looked very posh. Here's some advice for my mountain biking buddies that I found on a trolleybus in Dallas:


Anyway, the ‘Southern Hospitality’ was immediately obvious, and was in stark contrast to California.

Let me tell you about the ‘size of Texas’ story. I was sitting in a bar, drinking a Shiner Bock beer, and eating a steak (predictably). A few good ol’ boys were asking each other quiz questions:

‘What’s the largest state in the Union?’ one cowboy asked.

‘Texas!’ was the roared reply.

‘Correct!’ said Billy-the-Kid

‘Hmmm…’ thought I.

A few other questions passed, and then
‘What is the most northerly state?’ asked Buffalo Bill.

‘Illinois’ said one. ‘Vermont’ said another. ‘New York’ said a third. (New York??)

‘Nope’ said Buffalo Bill. ‘It’s Minnesota’, and he proceeded to explain that a little nook stuck up above the 49th Parallel.

I must have had too many Shiner Bocks, because I then did something brave (or stoopid).
‘Alaska’ I called out.

Immediately, four big faces turned to see where the clipped pronunciation had come from. ‘Uh-oh’ I thought… But they all broke into huge grins. “Shee-ette, Duwayne! He’s right!”

They all laughed, and I was relieved. I had decided some time ago to gain as many unique experiences as I can, but a bar-brawl in Texas??

‘It’s also the largest state in the Union’ I said, feeling brave by this point.

‘Well, I do declare…’ (or something like that) said Wild Bill Hickock, and one of them bought me a drink. Nice!

Later that night I found out first hand why Texas is called the ‘Lone Star State’. Of all the things described as ‘awesome’ in America (hotdogs, cars, shoes, etc.), this really was. I’m not going to blog about it, because it’s currently my secret and I found it out from personal experience, but I’ll tell you about it verbally if you remember to ask me next time we speak.
One thing I didn’t find out, though, was why all the famous cowboys are called William…