Jenn Dolari @dolari@driveinsaturday.org

The Secret Place was a small grassy area under large oaks next to a lake on the Devil's River. It was quiet You could only hear the wind, the birds and the water. It was isolated. It was private property, to be sure, but far enough away that unless you were visting the cemetery, no one would know you were there. And most of all isolated.

I'm revealing this place now cause I doubt I'll be coming back soon. Yes, there's the trans stuff going on in Texas, but honestly, I think more people knew about this place than me. WAAAY more No Tresspassing signs since I was here last. Probably got tired of my sitting out here thinking.

3/3

Noxville was founded in the 1870s as essentialy a fort keeping the local setlers protected from ther native Comanche, Apaches an Kiowas. In the 1880s, a post office, store and school were created for the local ranching community, all of which still exist. The school is used for voting, the store and post office are now a private residence.

This is also the location of Jenn's "Secret Place." This was a place I would dissappear to when things were really bad and I needed (1) thinking time on the drive out here (about 2 hourw from Austin) (2) needed a calm cool place to relax for an hour more and (3) more thinking time on the drive home.

2/3

Saturday's Texas Adventure, Part 4.

From Segovia, I went to Old Noxville. This is in a pretty remote part of the Texas Hill Country, being on a dirt road, off a rarely traveled farm road, off a rarely traveled US highway, off the freeway. It's as isolated as it gets in the Hill Country

1/3

Saturday's Texas Adventure, Part 3.

From the apartments, I saw some of the Locke Hill stuff I posted yesterday, and headed to UTSA.

My college years were a wierd time. I was both incredibly happy and incredible sad. I really didn't think about why I felt this way until recently. My transgender "crisis" was looming for the two years I was at UTSA, ending in a very not good way that I'll avoid talking about cause Facebook has triggers about that sort of thing.

But at the same time, for the first time, my best friends were all in the same spot. Amy was going to UTSA, Steph was going to UTSA (I may be misremembering - my memory is not the most reliable for these days)...maybe Umber as well?. Eventually Hattie was going to UTSA. Everyone was RIGHT THERE. And that made me happy in a very very very ugly time.

I miss those days while at the same time, I don't.

I ended up getting stuck in traffic TWICE getting out of UTSA, resulting in me burning almost an HOUR trying to get to my next desitination. Realizing that I was going to go pretty far, I decided to skip doing anymore local stuff and instead book it to my FARTHEST destination, almost two hours away.

It was about 5PM when I got to a turn off I wanted to explore while I was here - the old road between Junction and Mountain Home. I'd seen it on an old map from the 1930s and had never been there before. And since it was on the way, I took it.

I did not expect to stumble on a ghost town.

Segovia was not ever big to begin with, being pretty much ten people at it's largest at the end of the 1930s. It hosted some vacation getaways being on the main road to Junction, but outside of that and a grocery store, wasn't much.

I'd always thought that the old decrepit buildings just off the freeway were old Segovia. But I didn't realize that the old road I was on was the highway at the time, and that the real Segovia was hiding back there.

There's not much left, just the old grocery store, but it's stonework is farily well preserved. You can clearly read that it's the Post Office, and if you look carefully, you can see that it's also the grocery store.

I'm sorry Google Maps, but I don't think this road is rated for 60 MPH. Although Texas speed limits are nuts, so...

This season, tune in for the Texas Detective who doesn't take any shit. Tune in for....

Saturday's Texas Adventure, Part 2

From the Huebner House, she wrote for the FOURTH time, I headed to a very special place for me, "The Grotto."

The Grotto was a strip of forest behind our house, with a creek tunning through it. For eight years, I walked through this strip to get to middle and high school, read books here against the trees, biked it's many paths, and finished homework listening to bird and wind whistling through the branches.

Time has claimed about two thirds of the grotto, which haven't been built up, but were cleared for flood control. The southern most third still looks exactly as it did forty years ago, though. The section across the street was a part I didn't hang around out in much, but is now a city park, so at least some of these woods will always exist.

From there I hit the old apartment complex I lived in for a few years. It has seen beter days. Several of the buildings have burned down, windows are smashed out...it was pretty snazzy when we moved in in 1980. Times have not been good for them. It's hard to tell the Halloween decorated apartments from the others.

The old "Rain Roost" the kids hid under during the rain for my first four years of elementary school is now just a patch of ground. The tree I sat in as a kid is still there, and going strong, though. The game room where I'd play Asteroids is a Mexican Restaurant now.

It wasn't until decades later that I found out the hill I struggled to bike up was actually THE Locke Hill.

Where I am now.

Best freaking fajita taco I've had in decades.

Saturday's Texas Adventure: Part 1

My parents were busy this day, so o decide to take a chance on s trip into the Hill Country. I figured as long as I kept to myself, stayed in the car as much as possible, I could do a line road trip. It wouldn't be much different than when I'd roadtrip as a woman in the 90s.

I decided to go to my "secret place" in the Hill County, a spot I'd go to relax and think when I was troubled. It's a long ways away, but I figured I'd have time and decided to see sights that also were personal to me.

The first was what my sister called the Onion House, but I called the Huebner House. Both families owned it, but Joseph Huebner built it in the 1860s right at the crossing of both Bandera Roads at Leon Creek. He passed away in the 1880s, supposedly by supposedly drinking a canteen of kerosene and is buried I a very lovely part of the property. Given that the land was pretty vacant for 25 years, I'm surprised it wasn't vandalized. It's now taken care of.

I remember the house being decrepit and falling apart in the 80s, but that was a concerted effort to stabilize and restore it in the 2000s, something my sister was involved in. It's now a nature park.

I really want to go inside one day.

DAMMIT TEXAS YOU'LL KILL US ALL

My love of history is directly related to elementary school. First through fourth grade was at Lockhill Elementary (fifth was at Leon Valley), and I remember the first time I read this historical marker, I felt so proud.

Much of my San Antonio life has revolved around the intersection of Fredericksburg and Huebner. I've been to the site of the original school (likely incredibly old if its the site of the Lacey store), stagecoach stop and the oldest, still standing building (predating Lock Hill itself). I know the history and it's people.

While I don't want to be buried when I pass, if it were to happen, I'd like to I be buried at the Lock Hill Cemetery. I genuinely consider myself a citizen of that very long lost community.

::waves::

This was my nickname in high school:

I am in my favorite city in Texas, it's a happening Saturday night, Wurstfest is going on, and I just have to pass the city by.

I am alone, visibly trans, in rural Texas, and there are crowds everywhere. And all it takes is one jerk to make my life very complicated very quickly.

This is what they want. To make us go away, become invisible and get your vote while they drive us away.

But at least the guy at Chicken Express called me ma'am. I hope the next generation of politicianscan undo this mess.