The drive took forever, and sing-alongs in the packed silver Sequoia kept coming. On the road to the Lonestar State. God's country. The land of slow country music and cowboys. In the car was me, my cousins Gabby and Nathan, my Aunt Shannon, and our family friends, Mrs. Susie, Andrew, and Natalie. They had all come to Louisiana for a week as they do every summer, to show Mrs. Susie and her kids New Orleans since they aren't from here. Every once in a while I take a trip back to Texas with all of them, and I never regret it.

In the distance I could see the street sign that never fails to excite me. County Road 435. We drove up the half mile gravel driveway while I gazed at the sun setting over the hill country. The Carroll family lives 20 miles outside of Austin in a one-horse town named Coupland, home to 130 residents.

As I got my bags out of the car, I was greeted by Major, the family dog. Major is a 90-pound yellow lab who's always carrying something around in his mouth. He's sweet as can be, but he's afraid of his own shadow. Major led me into the large yellow house and into Gabby's bedroom where I put my bags down. I've always wanted Gabby's room. It's a small square in the back of the house with a giant window overlooking the hilly front field. It's always in tip-top shape with two closets and a queen bed always topped with stuffed animals she's accumulated over the years. On her walls are an overabundance of dream catchers, homecoming mums, and Gone With the Wind paraphernalia from a recent craze.

After we had settled in, Soney, my Paran, thought it would be a good idea to take us to the movies. The only movie theater anywhere near Coupland was in Taylor. Taylor is the nearest town, and Paran and Aunt Shannon are very well-known there. Taylor, Texas is a typical small Southern town with a population of about 15,000. In its downtown lives a Main Street that passes over a railroad track. On the Main Street are old buildings created into shops, an old movie theater, and St. Mary's Catholic Church and primary school. The Howard Theater is a typical old movie theater, with only two movies playing at a time. We spent our night there watching Monster's University, which then became one of my all-time favorite movies.

The next morning Gabby and I woke up early to go for a run. There was something indescribable about running on the county road. The wind was restless, but the sun was hot. The breeze swept the sweet smell from the hay across the countryside and created a more than pleasant feeling. When we got back we laid out on the pavement part of the driveway and soaked up Vitamin D for hours. We begged Aunt Shannon to let me drive the Sequoia to Austin since Gabby didn't have her license yet so we could shop at the Domain. The Domain is a huge outdoor mall with every shop imaginable. Of course I only got to spend my time in Gabby's favorite stores when I go, Juicy Couture and Lilly Pulitzer.

Tuesday we had more of a relaxed morning. We decided to try out tennis at the Taylor park, mainly because Gabby had just bought this new Lacoste tennis skirt that she just had to wear. We spent about 20 percent of the time actually playing tennis and the rest of the time was spent listening to Gabby demand to take millions of action shots of her hitting the ball in her new outfit. We spent the rest day complaining about how there's nothing to do and watching recordings of old Friends episodes.

Wednesday was the day we had been anticipating. Aunt Shannon had been telling us about this swimming hole on the opposite side of Austin that her sister had told her about. It isn't Zilker Park, their usual swimming spot, but we thought we'd try it out.
We traveled from the north east suburbs of Austin to the southwest suburbs to a town called Dripping Springs. The hill country of Austin is something like I had never seen before. The hills are mountainous and have the ability to astound a girl who lives below sea-level. We arrived at the nature preserve and traveled down a long dirt road. There, sat a line of cars waiting to enter the park. A park ranger approached each car explaining that the pool was over capacity at the moment, so there would be a thirty minute wait. Everyone in the car started to moan, wanting to leave and just go to Zilker Park. But I put my foot down; I wasn't going to miss this opportunity. They had every chance in the world to visit this place, but I didn't.

We waited for what felt like forever, with our skin sticking to the hot leather seats, until finally it was our time to enter. We parked the car and gathered all of our things and started towards the pool. Gabby, Nathan, Aunt Shannon, Gabby's boyfriend, Joey, and I carried multiple ice chests down to the pool. It was a mile and a half hike down rocks and hills, and it was miserable. But when we finally made it to the pool, the hike was more than worth it. I'll never forget the day I discovered the coolest place ever. Hamilton Pool looked like a post on Pinterest. It was a large spring, with a small sandy beach to the left side of the entrance. Over the pool was a giant overhang of rock, and underneath it were a collection of large stones and a pathway to walk inside of the cave-like structure. To the right side of the pool was a lone rock with a small waterfall that danced on top of it. The water was freezing, but I didn't care. I wanted to swim to the smaller rocks inside of the concave rock. We then swam to the waterfall and stood under the freezing cold falling water. By the end of the day, I felt so grateful to have seen this masterpiece of nature. All I could think about was the breathtaking setting I had just been in.

Thursday was my last day in the majestic town of Taylor. While Gabby was in Austin for the majority of the day, I decided to take Nathan to the nice, clean community pool. We swam for a bit and rode around Taylor in the Sequoia, windows down, blaring country music and enjoying the beautiful day. We had to head back to the house to get ready for that night. That night we were going to go dancing at the Old Coupland Inn. I wasn't really sure what I was getting myself into. I vaguely remember going to the Coupland Inn when I was about five, but all I could remember was red swinging saloon doors, like the kind in movies. Gabby and Aunt Shannon went into the city to pick up Gabby's Austin friends, so they could join us and spend the night in the country. They came back to the house, and we all got ready to go out. We put on our cowboy boots and took millions of pictures posing by hay bails and pickup trucks. We got in the back of the truck and rode to the Inn like we owned the place.

I walked through the front doors of the Old Coupland Inn and will never forget the way I felt. I've been a lot of places in my eighteen years, but this place is by far the coolest place I've ever been. A movie, I thought, this place literally looks like a scene in a movie. The main ballroom is consumed by the spirit of Texas to accompany the Inn's old west theme. A row of wooden columns line up parallel to each other to create the dance floor. Red and white Christmas lights wrap around the columns and old wooden beams cross the ceiling. Directly in front of the dance floor is a small stage with a giant light-up Budweiser sign hanging above and a giant Texas flag as the stage's backdrop. On the stage was a country-western band playing old tunes along with new ones. Us girls decided to go to the bathroom to check ourselves before we started dancing. Even the journey to the bathroom was the coolest thing I had ever seen. The long hallway made of old brick was covered in old autographs from those well-known celebrities who had visited the a Coupland Inn. Then I found the saloon doors. The iconic doors that sparked that certain memory were directly in front of me. They led to the women's restroom.

We made our way back to the dance floor and stomped our boots until we couldn't stomp them anymore. We danced to "Footloose" "Copperhead Road" and "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" but the majority of the night was spent dancing the Texas Two-Step. Cowboy hats bobbed up and down asking young ladies, "Can I have this dance?" "She's like Texas" by Josh Abbott Band, a song Gabby had been playing all week, one of Texas' many unofficial anthems, came on, and everyone went crazy and had looks on their faces as if they were in love. "She's as free as blue bonnets in the summer...." the song played, and at that moment I knew I was definitely in a movie. That night changed my life for some odd reason, but I began to realize these people know the joy of being themselves and appreciating where they come from.

We said goodbye to the night and went home. That night I bonded with Gabby's new friends. The next morning was dreadful. I was riding back to Louisiana with my cousin Anthony who also lives in Austin. He's thirty-something and a terrible driver, so I had to find a way to distract myself. I was still in a Texas hoedown mood, so I downloaded a variety of boot kickin' music to doze off to on the eight-hour car ride home.

As weird as it sounds, those cowboys in that saloon opened my eyes to a whole new world, a 268,580 square mile world where one's wealth is detected by the size of their belt buckle, and they're not afraid to wrangle a few things now and then. Although I was only there for not even a week, I got to discover the adventure that lies beneath my nose. I go to Texas about twice a year, but I have never had the opportunity to experience anything outside the norm like I did that week. As John Steinbeck once said,

“I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion. And this is true to the extent that people either passionately love Texas or passionately hate it and, as in other religions, few people dare to inspect it for fear of losing their bearings in mystery or paradox. But I think there will be little quarrel with my feeling that Texas is one thing. For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study, and the passionate possession of all Texans.”