Texas Backroads: East of Austin, North of Nowhere...Lockhart, Texas Endures...

By EDUARDO PAZ-MARTINEZ
Editor of The Tribune

LOCKHART, Texas - The old man in khaki pants and shirt and weathered, dark-brown cowboy hat lifted his arm and threw something at me about my parking skills. "It's crooked," he said in Spanish, referring to the car and its place between the lines that denoted my space. "Nice hat," I said in turn, smiling and drawing the same from the old coot. We were going into Black's BBQ, a local tourist attraction in beef.

You can pull in here after a drive from Austin or San Marcos to the east and know that strong whiff of smoked cow will soon get you a plate of the best BBQ the state has to offer. Nevermind the more-famous Salt Lick in Driftwood west of Austin. This place smells like smoked brisket from 10 miles out.

In fact, not that long ago, the Texas Legislature proclaimed Lockhart as The Barbecue Capital of Texas. And they were right-on to do it, cause Lockhart has four major barbecue restaurants. Smitty's is a favorite. But we cruised into Black's if for no other reason than because it was the first of the four we spotted, believing that one couldn't be any worse than the other. Black's did not disappoint this hungry cowboy.

"Brisket," I said to the mustachioed Mexican guy behind the counter after I'd loaded my plate with red barbecue beans, some cole slaw and a dinner roll the size of a softball. The mid-May day had broken too-warm, but Black's was as cool as a cucumber as we waltzed in ahead of the old man. Inside, a sprinkling of old white people sat poking at their plates, no doubt whispering sweet nothings into their ears, while across the way a group of younger men scarfed-up their BBQ chicken and sausage before headng back to the ranch.

Somewhere else, others hurried here in there, perhaps to El Gallo Tex-Mex in Austin, or to Dan's Diner in Buda, or to Tacos N Tequila on the far western side of 6th Street in Austin, where a two-taco plate will set you back $13.99. But they're tasty as all hell. Glazed beef, is what they call it at the ritzy, nouveau joint at the corner of 5th and Pressler streets.

Here in slower Caldwell County, where the ornate and aging county courthouse looms as the pride of citizenry, it is BBQ that sets the table. Red and white-checked tablecloths all over the place, iced tea at the ready, root beer there for the kiddoes. Healthy slices of my beloved pecan pie waiting their turn.

There's something about leaving town for lunch. Twenty-some miles isn't much, but 20 miles outside of Austin gets you a weeding of tiny towns where the living is easy. Lockhart is the sort of community that also suffers its young, mainly because they tend to leave town as soon as they're able. Old is in here, visible on the sidewalks and in the eateries. You can smell the meet being smoked, but you can also smell the Ben-Gay worn liberally by the elderly. It's a daily senior citizen postcard, for sure.

We ate slowly, me going for drink refills.

Alongside, the chattering went on, as if short scripts were being rehearsed by actors who'd likely uttered those same words many, many times.

"You doin' okay, Lurleen?"

"Oh, yes, Henry. How are you doing?"

The old guy in the desert storm gear had found a place at the far end of a line of tables set along a wooden rail that separated the entrance from the dining room. He waited on his take-out. We watched him a bit. He had to be in his late-nineties, the deep wrinkles on his face looking like well-grilled fajitas. The hat on his head held its place nicely, khaki pants working themselves out of his boots as he walked.

I smiled at him as he ambled past us on the way out.

At the door, he stopped and looked back, before saying, "Long road out there."

It was, I am pretty sure, an autobiographical line...

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