Chapter 134: Lost Pines

Monday, June 6, 1983

Angie and I picked up Jas and Paige around ten, then hit the road heading towards Austin. I’d picked a slower route for this trip and planned to take the faster route back.

The route we took was one that I’d taken many times in my first life: US 290, running between Northwest Houston and central Austin. This was another déjà vu trip, but one I could enjoy. Parts of the trip were practically indistinguishable from the way things would look in 2021, while other parts were totally different. Bypasses hadn’t been built, towns looked very different, and so forth. Railroad tracks that had been (or would be?) torn up sometime around 2000 still existed now.

I’d traveled part of this route on my trips to A&M, and the rest didn’t throw me, with the slight exception that some places I’d have loved to stop didn’t exist yet. How could you make a long trip in Texas and not stop at Buc-ee’s? Not a question I could ask anyone else, since even Angie wouldn’t have heard of them.

About two hours and a bit into the trip, I spotted a sign that made me grin. I’d forgotten the town existed, but now I remembered. Fortunately, the girls were talking amongst themselves and missed it.

A minute later I pulled off to the side of the road.

“Huh? What’s up?” Angie said.

I pointed upward out of the window.

“Don’t make me whap ... Hey! Wait! Are you serious?” Angie said.

“What?” Paige said. “I can’t see it.”

“You have to see it!” Angie said. “Out! Now!”

We piled out of the car. Paige stared up at the sign saying ‘Paige.’

“Seriously? There’s a Paige, Texas?” Jas said. “Why didn’t I know this?”

“Why didn’t I know this?!” Paige said.

After just a bit of cajoling, I got Paige up on my shoulders, where she very nearly reached the sign, and Angie and Jas took pictures with each other in the frame. Sadly, we just had one-use cameras without a self-timer. Sooner or later I really had to get a decent camera. I’d been terribly spoiled by ubiquitous cell phone cameras.

Once Paige was back down, we looked around the town just a bit. There was a US post office, a gas station, a bar, and a few other little shops. I remembered the town better now, and I knew in the future there would be a bed & breakfast and some other boutique-type shops, but right now none of that existed. We bought postcards at the gas station and Paige sent herself one, so she would have a card postmarked Paige, Texas.

We piled back in the car and I got us moving again, everyone chattering away about how cool it was, and wondering if there was a Steve, Angie, or Jasmine, Texas. I was pretty sure there wasn’t. There’s a Marshall, TX, though. We might have to go there one day.

Just past Paige we intersected a highway that would’ve gotten us to the campground faster. I ignored it and continued on the scenic route. Twenty miles later we got to the reason: Elgin, home of some top-notch barbecue places, highly regarded even amongst those for whom barbecue is nearly a religion.

We stopped at Meyers Smokehouse, which I suspected looked exactly the same in 1983 as it would in 2021 (except perhaps for fancier cash registers in the future). We ordered a bunch of stuff and shared everything, which turned out to be the right decision. Everything was terrific, from the brisket to the peach cobbler. The sausage was excellent, but then Elgin is known for sausage in particular.

We ordered more and took it with us for a campground meal. No reason not to; we’d be able to refrigerate and reheat it.

I got us back on the road and we headed south to Bastrop, stopping at a grocery store there and having a grand time picking out entirely too much food for our short trip. That’s how campground stays almost always go, in my experience. You buy everything you might want and wind up hauling most of it home.

Not long after, we pulled up to the campground. I decided to spring for a state park pass, because we might make more trips like this. If not, I wouldn’t suffer from the expense. After paying for that, and for our cabin, we headed in and I drove around the park, in no particular hurry to get to our cabin.

The park was gorgeous. Heavily wooded, with nice shady open spaces, a big pool, a small creek, and plenty of trails to explore. After we’d gotten a good overview of it, I headed up to the area with the cabins.

The cabins themselves dated to the 1930s, though they’d been upgraded over the years since. The entire park, in fact, dated to the 1930s. It was built during the depression as one of the many WPA projects. The cabins would never have been built the way they were in 1983, much less 2021, but since they existed, and were historic, we could benefit from them.

We found our cabin, turned on the air conditioner, and brought everything in, getting the cold things refrigerated. I’d almost been tempted to buy beer, as the odds were very high that I wouldn’t have been carded, but had decided to pass. The girls didn’t care, and we’d have time for that soon enough. The last thing I needed was anyone having alcohol-related issues on a trip like this, definitely including myself. That would be one of the few things that would bring all the parents down on us, very hard.

By the time we settled in, it was around five, and we decided to go try out the pool. That involved swimsuits, which in turn required sunscreen. Jasmine and I took turns covering each other, as did Angie and Paige. Somehow that didn’t turn into more than teasing, though I’m almost not sure how we managed to avoid temptation. We set forth to walk to the pool, which turned out to be a bit farther than we expected.

As we walked, Angie said, “The map said these were the Lost Pines. What’s that about?”

“This group of pines is pretty much all by itself up here,” I said. “It’s over one hundred miles from the nearest pine forest to here, and there are no more past here. I read about it in one of the guidebooks. The forest really hasn’t expanded or contracted much since people have been living here, even when they logged it. It just keeps on going.”

“Cool!” Jas said. “I like that. The trees are just doing their own thing, and to heck with anyone else.”

Paige giggled. “I don’t think of trees that way, but maybe I should. It is cool. I’d say that I hope they’re not lonely, but there are so many of them here, they wouldn’t be. It’s like a Chinatown, except ... a pine-town.”

We pointed out interesting sights to each other as we went, and before long we were at the pool. Mostly we just splashed around, rather than swimming. The park wasn’t in heavy use today, but we were sharing with families, so we played nice.

By the time we finished, the sun was down enough that the trees blocked it. It was still plenty warm enough, but much more pleasant out. When we got back, everyone was hungry, so we broke out some burger meat and I cooked burgers while the girls prepared a salad.

Once we’d eaten, Angie pulled out a Monopoly set.

“Strip Monopoly?” Paige said, grinning.

Jas shrugged. “It’s not like we need to play a game to get naked.”

“I like the way you think!” Paige said.

I didn’t miss the subtext here. No one (which pretty much meant Paige) saw anything ‘off’ about Angie and me being naked together. I suspected she knew the score, and I was fine with that. Jas did, after all.

Angie giggled. “Maybe ... pajama monopoly.”

Paige pretended to grumble, but was grinning a bit too much for anyone to believe it.

“Fine! Be that way!”

We all headed off and changed into pajamas. I’d gone with dark blue cotton. Angie was back in her beloved, if ill-fitting, fuzzy pink pajamas. Jas wore a medium-red cotton pair, and Paige’s were emerald-green satin.

We played pretty much by the rules for an hour or so, with occasional complaints about Paige (who was the banker) raiding the till. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t, but complaining about the banker is part of Monopoly.

Despite (or because) she was the banker, Paige got low on funds and started offering to auction off her pajama top to the highest bidder. Angie tossed all of her money at Paige, thus ending the game with much laughter.

We decided to head to bed. Paige started one more thing, which was probably a good idea, by kissing me, then Jas, goodnight. Angie followed suit, and then of course Angie and Paige and Jas and I smooched as well, before we all started laughing and got in a four-way hug.

“I love you all,” Paige said. “Angie the most! But all of you.”

“I love you all, too,” Jas said.

“Me, too!” Angie said.

“I love all of you, too,” I said.

“Going, now, before I get all sniffly,” Paige said. “C’mon, girlfriend!”

“Coming!” Angie said. “Well, in a bit, hopefully, anyway! All of us!”

Much laughter ensued as we retreated to our bedrooms.

Angie’s wish certainly came true for Jas and me. Judging from the sounds we could hear, it worked for them, too.

Once we’d all quieted down, Jas snuggled up, head on my shoulder, looking up to me in the dim light filtering in through the window.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I said.

“I was skeptical, and ... well, I’m still a little skeptical of tents ... but this was a great idea. I really like this.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I bet tents will be fun, though ... pun somewhat intended ... we’ll have to keep things less ... intense.”

I got a whap for that, then a giggle. “Bad! Which makes it good. I agree. I didn’t feel like we were entertaining other campers in this building, even if we were. If we were just in a tent, and there was another tent I could even see, I’d feel totally self-conscious.”

“Me, too, especially since you don’t know if there are little kids around.”

“Yeah.”