Fort Worth

I was changing my socks when I told Skye to get out of the car and see why all the tourists were taking pictures. After being yelled at by cowboys riding horses wielding lassos, we had a clearer idea.

We followed the long horn to their pens.



We certainly do like to mess with nature, don't we.


When I was growing up I got my learning permit for driving when I was 15. I taught myself how to drive a stick shift and when I was 16, my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to visit my grandparents who lived in Stephenville, close to Fort Worth.

Being as rebellious and as independent as I was I was all in.

I think that it planted a seed for a love of the road that continues to thrive to this day.

Anyhow, at the time I also had a lust for steak. And it was always properly quenched in the stockyards of Fort Worth.



I remember this place from my youthful travels.

This time around was no different, unless nausea and hot flashes are normal reactions to lunch.





They openly and proudly advertise their "Fat" bulls.

They also promote their stock being "corn fed" which has become such a no, no, since cattle are not supposed to eat grain, they're just not built for it, but oh well, too bad for them.