We today took our first day trip outside of Austin. After uhm’ing and ah’ing over Lake Travis we eventually decided to take the path of least resistance and head for Fredericksburg, the Disney World of the Texas Hill Country. Fredericksburg sells its German heritage.
Fredericksburg was founded in 1846 by Baron Otfried Hans von Meusebach, new Commissioner General of the “Society for the Protection of German Immigrants in Texas”, also known as the “Noblemen’s Society”, and named in honor of Prince Frederick of Prussia, nephew of Prussia’s King Frederick William III, and highest ranking member of the Mainzer Adelsverein.
Whatever. Fredericksburg is predictable – a quaint little town whose main street features cute German-style buildings that have been polished and scrubbed until they shine in the cutest, quaintest little way – deathly boring. The main drag is lined with Antique/Art stores whose merchandise are neither antiques nor art[1].
The Hill Country in which Fredericksburg nestles its cute little buns, on the other hand, is beautiful and fascinating. Somehow the pickup trucks are even bigger than in Austin[2] and the number of state flags almost outweigh the number of stars ‘n stripes. Toto, we’re not in Austin anymore. The geography of the Hill Country reminds me very much of the landscape around Bloemfontein in South Africa; dry, rugged terrain, rocky outcrops and mile upon mile of low, scrubby trees. Winter is a great time to see the Hill Country as the forests of oak, mesquite and other leafless varieties create a skeletal landscape reminiscent of Portugal’s cork tree plantations.
Flags and Tree
For a real feel for Hill Country I much rather recommend Johnson City through which you drive on the way to lil’ Germany. Johnson City is the hometown of Lyndon B Johnson. LBJ[3] is a much beloved figure in central Texas and history in these parts has been gentle with his legacy[4].
Johnson City Map
The ‘City’ is actually not much more than a small town (population 1,191) but its dusty visitor’s center, lack of annual parade and the absence of frickin’ themed shop windows makes it far more interesting than Fredericksburg; its weirdly painted mill with rusting sculptures nailed to its corrugated walls far more mysterious than Das Peach House. The town is small but tough, somewhat forgotten, somewhat bored – both lazy and dangerous at the same time. It could easily be the kind of place where someone could reasonably be expected to have a crowbar and gasoline tank in the back of their car.
I can imagine the dead heat of a summer’s afternoon in the shade of one of those oaks in which only the occasional breeze disturbs the deep country silence. Johnson City is far more connected to the hill country in which it resides than what Fredericksburg’s sculpted main street could ever be.
Johnson City, Population 1191
Main Street
Johnson Family Homestead
