It goes without saying, G and I were of course hungover the day after the wedding. Crawling out of bed well after noon, we remedied this with more tacos from Mi Madre, because they were reliable, filling, and of course, dirt cheap. Sitting there in the midday heat, marinating in the grip of our steady but thankfully dull migraines, we watched the great-tailed grackles swoop and dive tables for scraps.
Claire told us to meet her at Barton Springs and even though all we wanted to do was crawl back into the loft and sleep, we put on our swimsuits under our clothes and Ubered to South Austin. As our car drove over the bridge that overlooks the creek my mouth fell open at the sight outside my window. What looked like thousands of people were playing in and around the water. It's not the size of the crowd that amazed me, it was the fact that people were playing in the actual water. All eleven years of my NYC-acquired instincts fired off and I gripped G's arm and pointed out towards the horde. We're swimming in that?
The Hudson River comes to mind. Bergen Basin comes to mind. The freakin' Gowanus Canal comes to mind! I can visualize the sheen of oil visible from the 9th St bridge at this very moment. You do not go swimming in bodies of water around a city because there is literal waste in them, not to mention heavy metals and toxic sludge. The Health Department will actually text you if there's feces at your beach in NYC if you ask them to.
As we walked up to the gate I looked for signs of trench foot, of gangrene, of necrotizing fasciitis on anyone leaving with wet hair or damp bathing suit. All I saw were smiles and tan lines.
My apprehension abated once we paid admission to enter. We had walked a while to find the entrance because the whole place was fenced off. There was a long line for the kiosk and a few signs posted detailing prohibited items: No food, no pets, no smoking. No coolers, no frisbees, no open containers. No blasting music from speakers. I felt a sense of seriousness here, it wasn't just a watering hole but a place with rules. Surely you wouldn't pay to swim in toxic water. I mean, they don't bother fencing off any of the water in NYC because you just know not to get in.
Inside, we found Claire and Andrew as well as a couple of her girlfriends sunbathing on the grass. There were just as many people doing the same thing here as there were people by the waterside. When we walked down to the shore I discovered this part of the spring was built like a pool; concrete walls, ladders and all. However from where I was standing you could see downstream, beyond the area where we were fenced in. A separate throng of people waded or floated in the water, prohibited items and animals in tow. They were hanging out on the natural river bank of Barton Springs, I wondered if they refused to pay but still thought to respect the same rules. Maybe they left wrappers, plastic bottles and bags of dog shit instead.
The water was almost cold and felt refreshing in the heat. Little bits of algae and leaves floated around us as we swam. I was surprised that when sunk to the bottom, my toes touched mud and stone. Devin, one of the women with us, later told me the water comes from the Edwards Aquifer and flows directly into this spring. The waters are monitored rigorously in order to assess the effect of development on the natural springs. The preservation efforts also play an important role in protecting the eponymous salamander, which is an endangered species. While she was surprised they didn't enforce reef-safe sunscreen, I was in awe anyone in the business of developing Austin had the foresight to protect the natural resource against all the inevitabilities of a growing city, ie. sewage and pollution.
After a couple hours of lying around in the sun G and I split off with another couple in order to check BBQ off our Austin to-do list. I've never had southern BBQ and hoped the hype around it wouldn't pale in comparison to the real thing. We stopped at a place not too far away from the springs called Terry Black's, which I had flagged on my Google Maps (♑️). The air was heavily perfumed with mesquite and the line snaked in ribbons around the building, giving us a long time to look at the workings around the pit. We got some beers from a vendor with a cooler and settled in.
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| A worker stoking the pit |
When we finally got inside, about 45 minutes later, it was clear they had a solid system in place. It was near the end of the day so they were out of popular items like the brisket and ribs but I didn't mind. I was a vegetarian for almost fifteen years until the pandemic, any and all meat is novel and equally delicious to me, especially when expertly handled. We ordered our sides, selected our protein by weight, then sat outside with our spoils. Honestly? My favorites were the pinto beans, mac and cheese and the green beans.
