Along the Texas Independence Trail -- Last Part

Planning is key to success. A failure to plan is a plan to fail.

We know the aphorisms by now, and they do embody truth, though not all the truth that might apply to a particular situation.

Take vacations, for example.

On a previous weekend jaunt we serendipitously discovered that Texas parks were celebrating the 175th anniversary of the war for independence and that they had a commemorative "passport" you could collect stamps in by visiting certain historical sites.

We decided that the Memorial Day weekend would be a good time to collect some more stamps.

Accordingly, I hopped online and looked up Goliad and Gonzales. I discovered, as I thought at the time, that candlelight tours of Presidio La Bahia would be held on Saturday, and a re-enactment of the Goliad massacre would take place on Sunday and then figured out a route that would take us to Gonzales on the way home, where we could see the cannon that sparked the "Come and Take It" flag.

All well and good, except that the date for the re-enactment was in March, not May, and the Memorial Day weekend stretches from Saturday to Monday, not Friday to Sunday, as I thought at the time. So much for plans.

Missing the re-enactment and tour wasn't such a bad thing. We spent plenty of time at Goliad and gathered the appropriate stamp.

But when we arose Sunday morning, we had hopes of seeing the cannon and receiving another stamp.

At breakfast, we had the dining area to ourselves, with plenty of freshly prepared food. One of the women working the area began a conversation with Sharon, whom she recognized from the day before. I didn't recognize the woman as one of the ladies working Saturday because she was so relaxed and happy and smiling. She called the kids from the day before "those children from hell."

We set out for Gonzales, just a short hop away, and arrived at the memorial museum where the cannon is. Only problem: This was Monday, and the museum is closed on Monday. And being Memorial Day weekend, the chamber of commerce was closed, so we couldn't have our passport stamped.

The city is also home to the Pioneer Living History Museum, which is also closed on Mondays, but as we drove by, Sharon saw that the gate was open, and a sign seemed to indicate the place was open.

We turned around, parked and walked down a winding pathway, across a couple of wooden bridges and into the main area. No one was there, so we spent time wandering about, taking photos and poking our noses inside when doors were unlocked.

A sundial inspired me to see if the time would be correct, and if I could take a picture when the clouds parted. Turns out, the dial's time was correct if you account for daylight saving time, and I snapped a shot.

We may have missed the cannon, but in Luling we are treated to the sight of a water tower painted like a watermelon. I'm sad to report we did not take a picture of it, but if you want to see it you can go here: www.agilitynut.com/food/fruit.html. Scroll down to the watermelon section. The annual festival in Luling is called the "Watermelon Thump."

Then we're off to Lockhart, famous for its courthouse and its barbecue. I vaguely remember that one Lockhart barbecue place was in Texas Monthly, and when we hit town, I pull over, fire up the iPod and discover that, indeed, Black's Barbecue is one of the mag's top 50 barbecue joints.

It being noonish, we park on the courthouse square, where the citizenry seems to have just finished a Memorial Day event, and walk the three blocks to Black's.

Its reputation is deserved. We think the food is wonderful -- though I'd quibble a bit about the potato salad. Everything is individually priced, but when we check out, the total is less than what we'd pay for the equivalent at one of the restaurants at home.

While we're waiting in line, one woman tells an employee that her friend is from England, and they've brought her to the restaurant to experience Texas barbecue. He introduces himself and chats with the pair for awhile, making sure they know how welcome they are and giving them instructions.

Having satisfied our barbecue RDA -- it's on the food pyramid, right? -- we return to downtown to take pics of the courthouse, which is supposed to be Empire II style, whatever that means. We also hike down to the town's library, the original building for which is built in Greek cross and Classical Revival style, according to the library website, although the sign in front of the building described it as French Revival. I don't know the difference in architectural styles, so it matters not. It's a cool-looking building, though.

Another of my plans goes awry when I wind up on I-35 sooner than I planned. I expect it to be a zoo because of holiday traffic, and I'm right. Still, like other plans gone wrong, the traffic only means we'll arrive home a bit later than expected.

Browning wrote that our best-laid plans often go awry, leaving grief and pain for the promised joy, but we found the joy of the unexpected discovery instead.

Along the Texas Independence Trail, Part Deux

Sunday morning, and we've slept late again. Yep, 7:30.

We clean up and head to the lobby for the hot breakfast that's supposed to await us. Only problem is that a bunch of adults and children apparently associated with a softball team (pre-middle-school aged girls) dominate the area, and the children have scarfed up most of the food.

While waiting for more eats to arrive, one of the moms notices us standing and decides we have to take her group's table. We protest, mostly because another seating area is available upstairs, but she insists. So we take our seats and the real horror begins -- we have to listen to the adults natter on about the tournament and how bad the umps are.

They tell the girls how they should be playing while also urging them to listen to what their coach says. And the woman who yielded her table is a parrot, repeating almost everything another adult says. Going deaf looks pretty good.

But we reap the benefit of freshly prepared food and prepared for the day's adventures.

While driving to Goliad, we encounter our first GPS anomaly of the trip. The road's been widened and moved a bit from whatever map that formed the basis for my unit. We are treated to the screen showing us driving through a river. Who knew a cube was an amphibian?

The first stop is the Fannin Battleground Historic Site. An obelisk dominates the center of the circular site and marks the spot where Fannin and his men surrendered and received a promise they would only be imprisoned. They were transported to the nearby Presidio La Bahia, and the cur Santa Anna would ignore the promise and order their deaths.

The rest of the site is basically a giant picnic ground, with lots of tables, a couple of large charcoal grills and a playground. Seems like an odd way to honor the valiant fallen, but this is Texas, and we'll celebrate anything with a barbecue.

Next on the list is Goliad and the Presidio, which is the dominant part of an area that include the Fannin Memorial, which marks the burial site for Fannin and his men; a monument to the Angel of Goliad, Francisca Alvarez, who helped some of the wounded and escapees at the time of the massacre and other Texians during the war; and a monument to Ignacio Zaragoza, the general who commanded the forces that defeated the French and whose victory is marked by Cinco de Mayo. Along with a statue, they've a replica of the house he was born in, but it's locked, so I've no idea what the interior looks like.

Zaragoza's statue is about life-sized, and Sharon comments, "He's shorter than Sam Houston." It takes me a minute to realize the reference to the 60 foot statue of Houston on I-45. I groan but really wish I'd made the comment.

The fort is impressive, but the walls aren't as tall as I thought they'd be. They stand taller than I do, but if the average height was significantly shorter then, the walls would have been plenty tall enough. The corners have watchtowers, with long, narrow entrances. Even after turning my newly skinny self sideways, the entrance is a close fit.

You can see the last site of the trip, the Mision Espiritu Santo, from the walls of the Presidio, and we head over to see what's there.

The mission is part of a state park, and one of the rangers tells us they'll give a lecture at 2 p.m., almost two hours away. We'd seen a Whataburger in Goliad, so we buzz the short miles back to town and scarf down a burger. With time to spare, we spend some time taking photos of the DeWitt County Courthouse.

We return to the mission and wander about the grounds reading the signs, which will tell us most of the information we'll receive in the lecture. The lecture does answer one key question we have -- why is a skull and crossbones carved above the door that exits to the plaza. That, the ranger tell us, is the door caskets were brought out of after a funeral.

We're exhausted and ready to return to Victoria, so we drive "over the river" and head for the hotel.

The plan is to find something to do that evening, but our best laid plan is dashed because this is Sunday night on Memorial Day weekend, and there ain't nothin' to do but have supper and watch Kung Fu Panda.

Monday we'll head for Gonzales, the Lexington of the Texas Revolution.