Our barbecue trail to San Antonio lead us to College Station, TX.
Jake initially decided we should go straight to ‘the source’ of the best barbecue in Texas (as per Texas Monthly magazine), which is located in Lexington, TX. But at the last minute he routed us towards College Station instead. Apparently he was not pleased with the feral/loose dog situation that I reported to him while on a run in Longview. And College Station is a city of sorts, which increases the chances that dogs will be behind fences or on leashes.
So, we ended up in College Station, with the hopes that I could possibly run hungry-human-eating-dog free.
Yeah, I’ll keep him around. Swoon.
College station is an hour away from Snow’s, so on Saturday morning we set our alarm, got up early, and drove to Snow’s with an 8am ETA so that we could wait in a line that we were forewarned would exist to get the supposed best barbecue in Texas.
In Texas, the (subjective) best barbecue is sold from 8am – gone, which is typically by noon. Yes, in Texas, you literally eat barbecue for breakfast. God bless Texas.
Snow’s ended up being the highlight of our stay in College Station – even though it was an hour’s drive away from College Station. A lovely hour’s drive (back country Texas is beautiful).
Snow’s placates the hungry hoard of people waiting to enter their tiny castle of barbecue by offering free
beer Michelob via a keg. Which is a good idea, because barbecue craving hoards of people have a high likelihood of succumbing to group mentality and possibly attacking. And since Snow’s pit-master is an 82 year old woman smoke whisperer who has experienced some stuff in her years, I think it’s probably favorable that they try and protect the barbecue seeking hoard from getting beat up by her.
We waited patiently (and with our morning “beer”) for two hours, listening to the sounds of the cows who were mooing from down the street. I think they were at a cattle yard. It made me feel a little guilty for what I was about to do… but then… we were served.
And all guilt was eclipsed by the glorious smell and supreme beauty of a bounty of barbecued meat, slow cooked to perfection by an 82 year old barbecue goddess.
And we ordered as you may have expected: gluttonously. Sometimes gluttony is a good thing – I swear.
The meat was delightful. We’re still not barbecue connoisseurs, but we are learning what ‘good’ is and what ‘meh’ is. And this was good.
We drove the hour home in a barbecue fueled stupor and took a nap. Barbecue for breakfast and early afternoon naps; all days should be this good.
While Snow’s was the highlight of our stay in College Station (even though it wasn’t in College Station), we did check out College Staion during our short stay in town.
Which basically meant we hung out on the Campus of Texas A&M (go Aggies?) like two creepers. Because everyone college student remembers seeing those creepy older people who clearly ‘don’t belong’ on your campus, but are still there. For no apparent reason.
And we had no apparent reason to be on campus, other than campus is pretty much what there is to ‘do’ in College Station.
So we walked around for hours, enjoying the fountains and statues and graves of dead dogs that are provided with a scoreboard so they can watch the score of every Aggies football game. (And we’re the creepy ones?)
One afternoon we decided to check out the ‘campus downtown’, which consists of a small area with a facade resembling the buildings of an old Western movie. Between two of the bars is an alley named ‘Bottle Cap Alley’ with a crap ton of old beer bottle caps. And probably a crap ton of tetanus.
On a morning run, we jogged through G.W. Sr’s presidential library grounds. He has a sculpture of some horses leaping over a portion of the Berlin Wall (the real wall!) which I enjoyed. Because horses. I also think that the wall is cool too, now that it is down.
And then, the evening before we decided to leave, we were treated to our very own rodeo event – in the RV park we were parked in.
Yes, that is correct. A real life cowboy practicing real life roping complete with cowboy boots, worn out jeans with a Skoal ring, and a hat. And a little plastic steer which he pulled out from beneath his RV to rope at. It was amazing and I was more amused than anyone should probably have been by this fortunate turn of events. I was so awestruck I never got up the guts to go introduce myself, instead peering out the window until it was too dark to see his feats of wild West. If you’re out there, cowboy of Holiday RV Park, know that your skills were appreciated.