Two-steppin' in the Cowboy Capital of the World

The man I’m dating wears starched pink Ralph Lauren shirts, pressed khakis and brown loafers—every day. I have 12 pairs of cowboy boots.

I listen almost exclusively to country music; he’s a fan of jazz. He’s an early bird; I’m a night owl. My friends consider ours a mixed relationship.

Though he’s fearless in his career and his life, Eddy’s not good at being a beginner. Neither am I, so we have that in common. But I keep asking him about two-stepping in Bandera, Texas, where friends of mine had a great time last year. So great that now they are regular two-steppers in their hometown country bar, intimidating couples like us. Sheila tells me the close dancing brought back the romance to their relationship.

I invite Sheila and Greg over for dinner: barbeque ribs and Shiner Bock. As the evening wears on, Greg concedes that he had fun learning to two-step.

“Plus, since you’ll be flying into San Antonio, you can check out the Alamo,” says Greg, wiping barbeque sauce off his chin.

Sheila has coached Greg well; Eddy’s a history buff.

The evening’s a success, with Eddy agreeing to accompany me to Bandera.

I sign us up for local lessons—we don’t want to look like total amateurs when we get to Texas. And I buy Eddy a straw cowboy hat to seal the deal. Later, I catch him admiring himself in the mirror. He looks handsome and I can’t wait for our trip. I’ve packed a suitcase full of boots, a different pair for every day. Footwear is a great excuse to check a bag.

The Cowboy Capital of the World

The Texas Hill Country—like everywhere else in the state—is big. This rolling land is studded with wonderful small towns. And though it’s less than an hour from San Antonio, Bandera is worlds apart. According to the 2010 Census, the population was just 857. Claiming to be the “Cowboy Capital of the World” is a big boast for a small town, but as they say in Texas, it ain’t bragging if you can back it up. Though tourism is the lifeblood, rodeoing and ranching remain at the authentic heart of Bandera.

The brew is dark and strong at Dogleg Coffee House, where we caffeinate before we head out to a local dude ranch for a horseback ride. Both of us are comfortable in the saddle, so we enjoy our ride, winding and climbing over limestone hills with stunning views of the Texas Hill Country, and along banks of picturesque streams and creeks.

The fresh air is a tonic for a couple of city slickers and as I nuzzle the horse after dismounting, Eddy shares a hug and kiss with me. Our guide politely looks away. I bet he’s seen this kind of couples’ display before.

“That was fun, ma’am,” Eddy says, getting into character and tipping his hat.

We head back to town for a quick Mexican lunch and a visit to Bandera’s Music History Project Hall of Fame to get into the spirit of our getaway.

Boot Scootin’ to a Honky-Tonk Beat

Bandera was founded by Roman Catholic immigrants from Poland, but these days it’s not polka that the town is famous for, it’s honky-tonk. There’s live music almost every night of the week. But before we paint the town red, I want to pop into the Kronkosky Library on Main Street for a most unusual attraction.

Bandera is a melting pot of Polish, Mexican, Indian and Western cultures; the music reflects that diversity. Inside the library is a computerized jukebox that constitutes the museum; it’s free and plays selections from Bandera musicians, either performing their own work or covering someone else’s. It’s a fantastic glimpse into Bandera’s musical tradition, honoring past and present musicians. Eddy and I take turns picking the songs, and soon we’re in the mood to hit our first watering hole.

Arkey Blue’s Silver Dollar is famous in these parts and not just with tourists. We order a couple of Lone Star beers—cash only—and settle onto bar stools. These Texas hills are alive with honky-tonk, which is a straight-up, feel-good, sing-along, dance-to-it sound. Honky-tonk refers not only to the dance halls and bars that play the music, but the music itself. Its roots are in the Western swing music of the 1930s, which exploded after World War II America and through the 1950s. Songs are upbeat and often feature fiddle and pedal steel guitar. Frequent topics include drinking and relationships.

I ask you, what could be more fun? Funerals should play honky-tonk music in celebration of lives lived well.

It’s a good thing Eddy is wearing his cowboy hat, because almost every other man is, too. And the few that aren’t are in trucker caps. Several attractive older couples are circling the sawdust-covered dance floor, twirling in time to the music. They look confident and well practiced and you can tell they are having a blast by the sparkle in their eyes.

I shoot Eddy a glance. He reaches out for my hand. He’s got the liquid courage needed to take a spin around the dance floor.

We’re not as graceful or quick as some partners, but we are holding our own, grinning as we move counter-clockwise around the floor, through one, two, three consecutive songs. The lessons definitely helped.

Our next stop is the 11th Street Cowboy Bar that bills itself as the “Biggest Little Bar in Texas.” There are a bunch of shiny motorcycles parked out front and horses tied to the hitching post. Inside, it’s an eclectic mix of men with stubble and women in fun sparkly jeans. The place is legendary; a Texas Presidential election was broadcast here and a host of internationally known musicians have jammed.

All the dancing has whetted our appetites so we walk across the street to the Chikin’ Coop and sit on the patio. We order Texas-sized “Chikin” Fried steaks with all the trimmings and hit the dance floor while they are being cooked. The night is young and I’ve got some boot scootin’ to do in these red Lucchese beauties.

Eddy winks at me as we spin in time with the music. It’s on.

Our last stop of the evening is the Longhorn Saloon. We grab a drink and chat with our bartender, who tells us that we should stick around for the Funday Sunday ride—complete with horses (bring your own or rent one!), homemade chili and even more honky-tonk. Although we have to head home before the ride this time, we’ll definitely be back for more horses and honky-tonk.

Boot-scoot your way to Bandera for your own honky-tonk adventure!

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