Remember the Alamo - Day 2 - Mainland US Complete, Again

10/9/16, “Mainland US Complete, Again”

San Antonio, Texas

Well, we did it.  By visiting the San Antonio Missions here, I was able to say, “Mainland US Complete” again.  Other than the Alamo, which is outside of the National Park Service’s management, there were four missions to visit, and I would not make the proclamation until we had visited all four.  Upon taking our ceremonial picture outside of the fourth mission, I could not help but punning, “Mission Accomplished.”  It was not easy, and it was somehow far more strenuous and time-consuming than I had anticipating.  In fact, it, along with the Alamo, consumed almost the entire day.

That was not how the day was supposed to go.  To that end, we had to call an audible, and we reorganized tomorrow significantly, but none of that matters.  All that matters is that we were successful, that we had cashed the check we wrote when we learned about this site’s inscription while we were in Glacier.  It was erroneous for me to have said, “Mainland US Complete” in Glacier, but now that I’ve said it again, my proclamation was accurate.  Why was today such an adventure when it should have been such a simple day?  Well, that’s an interesting story.

After I closed last night, I published and went upstairs.  That’s when I discovered that I had left my key in the room.  I had to go back downstairs to get a new key.  I went to sleep, and I was woken up in the middle of the night by screams of pain.  My mother had somehow seriously injured her back.  In addition to slowing down all of our activities for the day, that put in jeopardy our ability to drive almost six hours round trip to Amistad NRA and back.  It also slowed down our process of getting out of the hotel.  It was past 9 AM by the time we got out of the hotel.  I had wanted to be at the VC for the site by 9 AM.  That wasn’t happening.

We also learned that the IHOP by the hotel was not a proper IHOP and that the four missions were not a short walk from the Alamo, as I had thought.  That meant that breakfast and the four missions would need to be reached by car, not foot as I had planned.  We drove to IHOP, arriving close to 9:30 AM.  I ordered Pumpkin Pancakes with all the fixings, along with coffee.  We sat outside, and the waiter provided great service.  It was 10 AM by the time the food came, and I scarfed it down as quickly as possible, trying to make up for lost time.  We decided that we could shave time off of what we had budgeted for Amistad NRA and the Riverwalk.  After breakfast, we had to go the nearby supermarket to get pain relievers and my mother’s lunch.  It was 10:30 AM by the time we got in the car.

We should have been at the VC well over an hour ago, but we had adjusted our schedule already to make up the time.  The four missions from north to south were Mission Concepcion, Mission San Jose, Mission San Juan, and Mission Espada.  The VC was at Mission San Jose, and the inscription photo was at Mission Concepcion.  I thought that the Plaque was at Mission Concepion, too, so the plan that made the most sense was to start at Mission San Jose, make our way south to Mission San Juan and Mission Espada, then finish up at Mission Concepcion.  For brevity’s sake, I will henceforth drop the word Mission from my descriptions.  We found the Plaque outside the VC at San Jose, but the adjoining slatted roof made for a very awkward picture with the shadow lines.

I did my business inside the VC and discovered that I had run out of pages in the Southwest section of my passport, so I would need to use the general section in a way I did not intend.  I did my stamping, and then we went outside to take my picture at the Plaque.  It was close to 11:30 AM at this point.  I lit up a Bolivar Brasil Exclusivo, and we went to the mission there to take some ceremonial pictures before heading south to San Juan.

When we got to San Juan, we found the ranger station to be closed.  I should note that each of the four missions has their own brochure and stamp, in addition to the main brochure and stamp for the site.  I wanted to get all four stamped, of course.  That quickly proved impossible.  I could get the stamps back at San Jose, but it would not be Official to stamp the other brochures there.  I could stamp the main brochure after visiting the missions, though, but it wasn’t quite the same.

We took our ceremonial pictures at the mission before heading to Espada, stopping at the Riverwalk along the way.  The ranger station was closed there, too.  This was not working well at all.  It was past 12:30 PM at this point, and and I knew we needed at least another half-hour before getting on the road.  This was meaning the earliest we could get back to San Antonio after visiting Amistad NRA was 7 PM.  That was the earliest.  The debate would begin at 8 PM.  None of this was looking good.

We headed to the VC at San Jose so that I could add the San Juan and Espada stamps to my main brochure.  I then noticed that the lighting at the Plaque had changed to make for a much better picture, so I enlisted my mother again to help me take a new picture.  It came out much better.  We continued to Concepcion, which was the spot of the inscription photo, and that was where I would say, “Mainland US Complete”, again.

We got out of the car there and took our ceremonial picture.  “Mainland US Complete, for real this time.”  Then I made the joke I had been waiting all day to make.  “Dare I say, ‘Mission Accomplished’?”  Being in Texas, my mother thought I was making a George W. Bush joke, rather than a pun on the word mission.  It was close to 1:30 PM at this point, and we soon discovered that the ranger station here was closed for renovation, so we would have to go back to San Jose again.

It was now close to 2 PM.  The only way we had a chance of making it home for the debate was if we went straight to Amistad NRA, took a ceremonial picture, and went straight back to the hotel, ordering room service.  What was the point of that?  I had a better idea.  We could call an audible.  We would go back to the hotel now, then spend the rest of the day seeing everything in San Antonio, including the Alamo, then get an early start tomorrow and do Amistad NRA tomorrow.  That would actually reduce the overall driving time of the trip.

I hadn’t had lunch yet, so we went back to the hotel, and I headed out for lunch.  My mother would meet me at the Alamo after I ate lunch, and we would take things from there.  We got to the hotel, and I went to the main shopping mall, stopping at a disappointing cigar shop on the way.  I opted for a Tony Romo’s for lunch, which happened to be right along the Riverwalk, the part that my mother wanted to see.  I told my mother to meet me there.  I got a mushroom and steak flatbread, along with an Alamo beer, yes, all quite good.  I was sitting on an outdoor patio, and, to my surprise, smoking was allowed there.  I lit up a Toscano and scarfed down my meal while I awaited my mother.  The Riverwalk wasn’t much to see, but we saw it and took our pictures.

From there, it was straight to the Alamo, where we spent about an hour.  Although the Alamo is better known for the eponymous battle fought there during the Texas Revolution, its status as a mission makes it part of the WHS.  We walked around, and I got my souvenirs and stamps.  We then took our ceremonial picture before heading back to the hotel for some much-needed drinks, which we brought up to the room.  After the drinks, I headed out, back to the Alamo.  I sat down on the sidewalk across from the Alamo, where I lit up an OpusX Angel’s Share and proceed to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can meet my mother for dinner.  There are three National Historic Landmarks in downtown San Antonio, so I will be visiting those before I meet my mother.

When it comes to picking a hotel, the one thing that matters to me above all else is location.  Whatever the main site of the place I’m visiting (legislative building, World Heritage Site, or some other iconic landmark), I will want to choose a hotel as close as possible to the site.  Even when I went to some place as seemingly mundane as Crescent City, California, I chose the motel closest to the WHS Plaque, so I was able to walk from the motel, in my pajamas, to the Plaque to write my entry.  Our hotel here in San Antonio is across the street from the Alamo, which has enabled me to easily write this entry each night from the Alamo.

There is something truly magical about this.  For the most part, San Antonio is a tourist town, but this one irreplaceable but it history stands apart from all else.  I am trying to think of another city where such an iconic and historic structure stands in the middle of the city.  There is one that is currently slipping my mind.  Perhaps Rome and the Colosseum?  Either way, this is a wonderful spot for entry writing, and I am glad to be staying so close to it.

Over the past 48 hours or so, which have been jam-packed with a full schedule, these entries have been the only chance I’ve had to relax.  Almost every other minute has been in transit or filled with an activity.  It was worth it to be able to say, “Mainland US Complete”, again, and I was glad that we did it up right.  It will be worth it in six months when I say, “Texas Complete,” but that doesn’t make these travels any less exhausting.

Now, here, as I write this, I can still feel the history of this spot.  I can imagine the Mexicans riding in to lay siege.  I can imagine Davy Crockett and his gang defending the Alamo.  I can imagine generations of Texans, up to this very day, imploring their fellow men to “Remember the Alamo!”  I know that, for my part, I will always remember the Alamo.  I will always remember this spot.

After I closed earlier, I lit up the other half of my Toscano and headed to the see the National Historic Landmarks.  I first came to the Majestic Theatre, one of the oldest theaters in the country.  From there, it was the Spanish Governor’s Palace, the only remaining building of Spanish Texas.  There was not much to see there, and I think it may even have been repurposed into an art museum, but both sites had Plaques, so that was enough.

I was meeting my mother for dinner, so I headed to the restaurant, and we decided we needed to do it up right in proper Tex-Mex style.  They had some very interesting menu items, presenting their own unique takes on classic Tex-Mex dishes.  We were along the Riverwalk, and it was clear that this was the touristy part of town.  We ordered margaritas to drink.  I got a pork tamale appetizer and shrimp fajitas for my main course, after my mother said she would make the fajitas for me, since didn’t think the fajitas were worth the effort entailed in making them.

They certainly provided an interesting take on the pork tamales, and the fajitas were, as is my custom to say, quite good.  I assure my reader that there will come a time when I describe a meal in less than such stellar terms.  This trip just has not provided such an opportunity.  The waiter had a serious attitude, but I think it was just a dry sense of humor, and he softened up by the end of the meal.

We walked along the Riverwalk back towards the hotel, hoping to stop at Dairy Queen before the debate.  We were now on a tight schedule, but I needed to stop at a souvenir shop, where I got a couple of keychains.  When we got to the Dairy Queen, it was closed, but we found another ice cream shop, the kind of place where they mix the ingredients in at the counter.  I opted for red velvet and sweet cream ice cream with coconut, Oreos, and chocolate chips mixed in.  I’m sure it would have been quite good, but I could barely enjoy it, as I was starting to get stressed out about missing the beginning of the debate.  I realized I could stream it from my phone, but I couldn’t properly enjoy the ice cream and hold my phone at the same time.

We got back to the hotel just as Hillary was answering the first question, which I heard asked from my phone.  The debate was a disaster for Trump in my opinion though the commentators seemed to think that he held his own.  It was the first half hour that was really bad for Trump, and it cemented my decision to not vote for him.  He clearly showed he does not possess even a basic understanding of military strategy and refused to admit his shortcomings.  He also drudged up some old, discredited conspiracy theories, which tainted the legitimate attacks he leveled on Mrs. Clinton.  It was a sad night for American politics.

After the debate, I headed out to the Alamo, where I lit up my Ardor, glad to be able add another iconic dateline to the list of the places where I’ve smoked this pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will close so that I can publish and get to sleep tomorrow.  We have a long day tomorrow and need to get an early start.