The Painted Churches of Texas Hill Country

Gothic Revival windows and majestic steeples rising into a bright blue Texas Hill Country sky....pure artistic homage and beauty found only in my Lone Star State.

With my trusty pardner in travel and life, Kman and I spent last weekend driving around the areas of Schulenburg, La Grange, Columbus, Gonzales and Fredricksburg. We've rambled around these towns many times, but never took the opportunity to visit all the famous "painted churches" of Texas.

My photographs can't begin to do justice to them. Built by both craftsmen and ordinary farmers who immigrated from Germany and Czechoslovakia, the churches represent a different era, a rougher rural Texas softened in rare small communities by old world visionaries. (Click on images to enlarge.)

This is Nativity of Mary, Blessed Virgin in High Hill, Texas. Constructed in 1908, the architect was Leo Dielmann. The little German community was not wealthy, so Dielmann used paint to create the illusion of traditional vaults and joints that otherwise would be actual construction from stone and wood:

Stained Glass panel up close:

St. John the Baptist Catholic Church - this is actually the third church built on this site. The first two were destroyed by fire. In fact, Leo Dielmann built the second church, just as ornate if not more than the Nativity of Mary, Blessed Virgin. In 1919, this structure was erected, far more simple and open:

St. Mary's Church of The Assumption is located in Praha, Texas, and is the oldest of the painted churches. Built in 1895 by early Czech settlers, the steeple is 130 feet tall. The front of the church is being refurbished and repaired, hence you can't see much for the scaffolding:

But the interior is not to be missed:

Sts. Cyril and Methodius Catholic Church in Dubina was built by Czech immigrants from Moravia. A hurricane in 1909 destroyed the first church built shortly after the Civil War in 1877. The iron cross on the top of the steeple was salvaged from the first church, and once again, Mr. Leo Dielmann was the architect chosen to design the second church.

At some point, believe it or not, the beautiful walls and ceiling were whitewashed over and no records survived that could identify the original artist. In 1980, the community took on the task of restoration, uncovering and preserving the original painting and having to "recreate" patches, keeping as true to the original as possible:

Definitely worth the drive if you're in the vicinity to visit these old churches. And late March is wildflower time in the Hill Country - so a good excuse to go exploring the countryside!

Way Out West

This past Labor Day long weekend was a special treat; on a whim I entered a writing contest a few weeks ago sponsored by Visit Big Bend and I won! The package consisted of two free nights at the Gage Hotel, dinner at the Gage, two free nights at the Chisos Mountain Lodge plus dinner at the Lodge, and a choice of a half day trip rafting on the Rio Grande, horseback riding, or a jeep guided tour in the backroads of Big Bend National Park.

Due to the limited amount of time, we chose to try the Gage Hotel for this quick trip. We'll catch the Lodge next May. We've visted Big Bend a number of times, but never stayed at the Gage, so this was a delightful first for us! (As usual, you can click on the image for an even larger view.)

 

In the 1920's the Gage began as a restored rancher's hotel. Over the years it has grown to be a landmark destination when traveling to this remote, but gorgeous part of Texas.

 

 

 

The peaceful and soothing combination of historic hotel and the newer Santa Fe inspired additions are both comfortable and relaxing. Rocking chairs beckon to you and the impeccable landscaping seems almost too beautiful to be real.

 

 

 

 

If you look just above the wall, you can spy the mountains of Big Bend in the horizon in the photo below:

 

 

 

 

Our dinner on Sunday evening was out on the patio. My tenderloin was melt-in-your-mouth tender with a perfect brown mushroom sauce. The biggest disappointment - I was too full for dessert! The food, the weather, the courteous staff, and the setting sun over the mountains created a most memorable evening.

I'll continue with more photos and reviews with my next post. The Big Bend isn't called "Big" without reason!

She Looks To The Alamo

Located near the little town of Acton and only .006 of an acre, the tiny fenced-in area where Elizabeth Crockett, wife of Davy, is buried constitutes the smallest state park in Texas.

Though Davy Crockett was a Tennessee son first, a former congressman, he joined up with the Texians to fight for their independence from Mexico. In recognition of her brave husband who perished at the Alamo, the Republic of Texas granted Mrs. Crockett some land. It took 17 years for Texas to make good on the promised repayment for the loss of her husband. Mrs. Crockett received a check for $24.00 and a grant of 1,280 acres of land.

At that time, Elizabeth was living in Tennesee, but upon the issuance of her grant, moved to Texas to stake her claim in 1853. A surveyor took half her acreage as payment and Elizabeth accompanied by a son and a daughter and their respective spouses, built a cabin on Rucker's Creek - just a few miles outside of the present town of Granbury. Elizabeth died in 1860 at the age 72 just after a walk near her home, still wearing her black "widow's weeds" that she continued to wear since hearing of Davy's death.

Then, in 1911, the state of Texas declared her gravesite a state park, and erected this marble monument:

 



 


 

 


















Buried alongside Elizabeth is daughter, Rebecca, whose second husband, James Halford, died during the Civil War.

The Acton State Historical Site is located approximately 4.5 miles east of Granbury on US 377, then 2.4 miles south on FM 167 to Acton, then left (east) on Hwy 4. The cemetery is about a mile down the road, on the right.

 

 

 

The Chinati Mountains

Last summer, when Kman (my bodyguard and better half) and I ventured into the Eden of Texas (Big Bend, for those folks who have known CP only briefly), we traveled with the June edition of Texas Highways which featured an article called "Road to Chinati".

Then, I found another great article in Texas Monthly magazine: "Climb Every Mountain" with excellent photos by Laurence Parent. (You have to register at their site to get the full article.) We already knew about the little hidden away gem before our trip, but reading through that issue made the decision easy - we had to give the Chinati Hot Springs a try.

We had traveled from Terlingua through Lajitas, and onto Presidio that morning. Gorgeous drive if you've never been: FM 170 - the River Road that winds through some spectacular canyon and mountain country along the Rio Grande. You would never believe such scenery existed in Texas, but it surely does.

 

Presidio is a border town and just across the Rio Bravo del Norte (aka The Rio Grande) lies the town of Ojinaga, Mexico. Presidio is a strange little town. I felt more like I had strayed across the river than stayed in the USA. The stores, the people, heck even the language was all Spanish. Even though Kman speaks a smattering of TexMex Spanish, We had to get a translator at the local Alco - a general store similar but smaller to perhaps a Big Lots.

From Presidio, we traveled Highway 170 to Ruidosa, then took a right hand turn onto a caliche gravel-topped road just past the La Junta General Store. The proprietor of said establishment seemed a little blurry around the edges, but Kman got simple enough directions to find the turnoff. I think I might know what was growing behind his adobe-walled off garden and it weren't okra, Mabel:


(Remember, click to enlarge photos)

 

The gravel road was fairly easy, though we couldn't travel much more than 20 mph. We happened upon this poor looking little fellow:

 

He looked malnourished and limped, and though I knew he was wild, we stopped and tried to cajole him up to our car for a snack of cold lettuce. No go. Probably just as well.

The gate to the hot springs finally came into view and we checked into our room, the El Presidente, which had its own private sunken tub that filled directly from the hot springs behind the building. The room also had the honored designation of being the "Elvis room", due to the decor:

 

Spy that bottle of frosty Bud Light with Lime on the little table? One of my surprised discoveries on this trip; I am usually a beer snob, only embibbing when I can get icy cold Mexican beer or a Shiner Boch. We even have a nickname for the brand, "Buttwiper" - though not terribly original - I know. But, Butt Light with Lime goes down oh so smooth after long car treks over hot dusty Texas roads. Makes a great beverage with Dan's Smokehouse peppered beef jerky. Saved our hungry butts on many a hiking trail. It's a staple anytime we take a car trip (the jerky, folks, not the beer. Though the beer is in the cooler, we value living la vida loca, and the cerveza comes out after the keys leave the ignition.)

 

 

 

Though the rooms were equipped with the much-needed AC unit, and thus a little easier sleeping at night, I have come to the conclusion that folks in the Bend believe a mattress is a once-in-a-lifetime purchase. Kman and I both gripped our sides of the bed during the night to prevent becoming a gigantic human burrito.

But oh, oh! The view from the upper spring-fed cool swimming pool more than made up for a lumpy bed. Refreshingly cool, with that nice dry sage-scented breeze coming off the beautiful Chinati mountains, and nary a city light in sight:

 

 

The hot springs with temperatures around 110 degrees fed into the lower communal pool just down the hill from the "cool" pool. Kman is kicked back here with a glass of white wine and probably discussing art with one of our fellow guests (I am safely hidden behind the camera lens - no need to shock your senses with my choice of bathing suits - we forgot to pack ours, and I made do with a pair of jogging shorts, sports bra and a very loose t-shirt):

 

There was a little algae in the pool, but for the most part it was very clean, and the water warm and nourishing. Only one other couple were staying at the Hot Springs that evening, and some neighbors from the area (they are few and faaaarrr between) came to soak a bit in the communal springs, but there was more than ample room. Chilled bottles of wine, warm bubbly mineral water, the Texas sky twinkling like diamonds, and good easy conversation made for a perfect evening. (Course, I was a little wobbly walking back to El Presidente, but I chalked it up to all those soothing and healing minerals oozing into my pores and bones.)

Later when trying to figure out why it seemed I had met one of our fellow bathers before, I felt like such an idiot; we shared the hot springs that evening with Glenn Justice, and I never made this connection. I would have talked his ear off even more. Both he and his wife were delightful to meet.

Heading out the next morning, our host, David, assured us our Mazda CX-7 (yeah we traded in the little Jeep diesel) would make the 55-mile Pinto Canyon road. We did, but the unpaved 20-mile portion of the road took us nearly 2 hours to traverse before we hit blacktop of Highway 2810 on into Marfa.

Pinto Canyon Road is breathtaking...in more ways than one. Yes, the natural scenery is beautiful, rugged, and like stepping into a John Ford movie; the road condition itself was more than just a little white-knuckle hairy in about three places. Fortunately, we only met two farm trucks and a mail truck, all at no-sweat passing by places on the road.

One up-hill climb in particular was snakey, and peppered with not-so-small boulders, with a steep drop-off to the right hand side and no shoulder. Kman climbed it like it was something he and Evel K did everyday. The photo below is of the Canyon Road at one of those easy passing spots mentioned above. Dumb me - I didn't stop to take a photo of the Death Trap parts. This is an early morning shot with the clouds just beginning to curl away from the upper ranges of the Chinati's:

 

 

The Chihuahuan desert and mountain area of Texas is unbelievably beautiful, no doubt about it. But, it is also a very unforgiving terrain; it doesn't suffer fools easily. Civilization in far southwest Texas has not been very successful - something for which I am grateful. Occasionally, you glimpse evidence of past attempts; slowly making its way back to a raw elemental beginning, losing all shape and function:

 

For the experience, for the view, for the soothing waters, I highly recommend taking the Twlight Zone trip to the Chinati Hot Springs. Not for the faint-of-heart, or the 4-star traveler, but if you have a little Ambrose Bierce or Jack Kerouac in your genetic makeup - it's calling your name.

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