Cowboy Mardi Gras was celebrated in Bandera last week: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. It had been promoted all over town since the beginning of the year, and spirits were high as the town braced for one of its biggest weekends of the season.
RVs began rolling in the RV park on Wednesday, and by Friday there was no vacancy. Quite a few of them hauled a cargo trailer containing another secondary mode of transportation: either motorcycle or 4-wheeler, mostly. There was an occasional electric scooter or barbecue smoker. Clearly, they’d done this before and knew that parking for traditional vehicles would be hard to find. No sooner were utilities connected (electric, water, and sewer) that the partying began. Out came the lawn chairs, coolers, party lights and stereos playing mostly traditional country and zydeco tunes. Some party goers proudly declared their fandom, and nearly all proclaimed to their love of Texas with all kinds of decor.
Personally, I LOVE Mardi Gras, especially after having lived along the Gulf coast for so long where it’s a real big deal, and I couldn’t wait! I love everything about it: the decorations, the music, the costumes, the Cajun and Creole food, and especially the parades! There were 118 floats in this one (huge, I think, considering the population of Bandera is 957), and thanks to getting the inside scoop from one of the workers here at the RV park, we walked just a few blocks into town and easily secured our viewing spot at the very start of the parade.
The Cowboy-element put a whole new spin on Mardi Gras, what with all the horses and their riders, the wagons, the steers, donkeys and mules. The people-watching was fantastic, and my palate was gratified with a King Cake made by the bakery here and a New Orleans’ style poboy loaded with fresh shrimp from one of the food trucks from San Antonio. I swear, the way I’m going to remember this trip is by all the places we ate along the way. And I’m going to have a lot of memories, considering the weight I’ve gained already, every pound totally worth it.
One of the highlights for me happened on the very first night. Not knowing what to expect, we paid the $10 cover charge at the 11th Street Cowboy Bar Thursday night. The fact that it was a bar did not make me feel uncomfortable in any way, thank goodness. And really, the 11th Street Cowboy Bar reminds me of the fake town in the movie, Blazing Saddles--it’s a facade that takes up most of the block, and behind it is a big stage, an even bigger dance floor, lots and lots of places to sit, a smaller stage off to the side, and a couple of bars.
It was where the Canine Costume Contest was happening, followed by a Cajun band from Louisiana. Before, in between, and after, Country-Western music played, and the huge dance floor–kept dry and smooth for dancing by occasion liberal sprinklings of sawdust–swelled with couples. I was mesmerized watching them two-step counter-clockwise past where I sat; the intimacy of it overwhelmed me. All the while they danced, the partners touched, whether they was twirling or traveling. I have to admit, the Cowboy and Cowgirl ensembles played a big part in my attentiveness; everything about it was pleasing to watch. The fancy leather Cowboy boots, big Cowboy hats, leather belts with the big belt buckles, leather vests, fringe–the total package was exotic.
By Sunday noon, all of our transient neighbors had left. I thoroughly enjoyed the whole weekend, but I was glad to see things return to normal. I was exhausted! Bandera, Texas–of which I knew nothing previously–has exceeded any expectation I might have had for a winter escape. It has everything we need, and then some. It doesn’t get much better than that.