The following is the third installment in a recap of a recent road trip I took with my two sons. For part 1, Click Here. For part 2, Click Here. To not read any of them, click on the X in the upper right hand corner.

When I was little, at least once a week (generally Fridays) my family and I would spend the evening at my grandparents’ house. These visits were in the days before television remote controls, and so what would often happen is that we would come in, greet each other, and then settle in to watch whatever it was my grandparents had been watching on TV before we arrived. I know what you’re thinking, why didn’t we just turn it off, or…turn it off? In answer to that I would say…I don’t know. I was between three and six years old and held very little sway in the world of Rapier family dynamics. And why would I have argued for that anyway? So I could listen to adults blather on regarding topics I cared nothing about? I think not. But regardless, my Granny loved TV, and if we wanted to visit her and my Grandad, we were gonna watch TV. End of discussion. And so, over the course these visits, I saw many an episode of Dukes of Hazzard, Love Boat, Dallas, and One Day At A Time. I also saw a lot movies.

And it was because of one movie in particular I remember watching in my grandparents’ living room that I was so taken aback when my boys and I came around a street corner in downtown San Antonio and I laid eyes on the Alamo for the first time. It was so…small. As a child, I had sat mesmerized as I watched John Wayne fight for the survival of Texas in The Alamo. And it was in those moments that the church where these men had fought the Mexican army back in 18whatever had been forever immortalized in my young brain as being huge. How could it not be? The fate of Texas had rested on the outcome of what happened there. It was larger than life.

Now, seeing the actual building in person, I was faced with the reality that it was anything but. In contrast, the Ripley’s Believe it Not complex across the street was ten times the size. I don’t know what that says about American culture and its approach to history, but I’m sure there’s some kind of message there somewhere.

But anyway, small or not, it was still cool. This was the place where a handful of legendary American heroes had fought and died at the hands of a Mexican army led by General Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón, or as he was more commonly know, Santa Anna.  I was in historical heaven.

Unfortunately, my two boys do not share my fascination with history. Also, they had not had the youthful experience of watching John Wayne swagger around in a coon skin cap to inspire them. I suppose that’s my bad. To them, the Alamo was a courtesy they were granting their father. Not that they were obnoxious about it, they just weren’t that interested. They didn’t understand the significance. To them it was the site of a battle in a war between Mexico and the United States over Texas. People had died. Very sad. Let’s move on.

So we did.

However, before we left, we did stop in at the Alamo gift shop. I’m not sure if there is a store that is more stereotypical Texas than the Alamo gift shop. I’m not going to elaborate, I’m just going to leave that thought out there and let it be my final word on the subject.

Once we stepped away from the Alamo, I asked the boys what we were going to do next. Braden immediately pointed to a space needle looking building off in the distance.

“I want to go there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just do.”

I can act like I was mystified, but the truth is, I knew why. Braden is drawn to any and all tall buildings that he can go to the top of. I don’t know why, but he is. Of all the places we could have gone in Las Vegas, he wanted to go to the top of the Stratosphere. The problem with this tower in San Antonio is that it was not really all that close to our current location and we had limited time. I personally wanted to explore the Riverwalk, but…this wasn’t necessarily my trip so we set off for the as of yet unnamed tower in the distance.

Did I mention it was humid? The other downside of walking to the tower was that the entire distance was outside. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for my nice bald head to develop a sheen that quickly evolved into a miniature planet of waterfalls. Good gosh it was hot. Except it wasn’t that hot, it just was so…wet. I hate humidity! Good thing New Orleans wouldn’t be anything like this. (Sarcasm intended.)

Finally, we arrived at the tower. By this time I was half praying it was a community shower tower, because in a place like this those had to be common right? Sadly, it was not. But we did discover it was the Tower of the Americas, built in 1968 for the World’s Fair, and yes, we could go to the top. For a price.

Great, I could pay for the opportunity to ride an elevator with a bunch of other people who were perspiring as violently as we were up to the top of a tall building and then look down at all the air conditioning units of every other building in town for miles in any direction. Fortunately, an older couple walked up to us in the ticket line and handed us there tickets/wrist bands. They had decided not to go, but didn’t want to go through the hassle of turning the wrist bands back in.

Sold! Best deal of the day. Well, except for the Alamo which was free. So…that was actually the best deal of the day, but this one was pretty good.

At the top of the tower, I learned a few things. 1. From over 700 feet in the air, Las Vegas and San Antonio looked remarkably similar. 2. In the 1800s, the Mexican government was constantly trying to pass laws that would keep United States citizens from immigrating to Mexico, (Ok, specifically Texas, but it was Mexico at the time.) As anyone can imagine, I found this fact incredibly ironic. 3. Oh look, the home of the San Antonio Spurs! I had no idea we were so close. Or that Kawhi Leonard was so far away. (Spurs joke there, ha ha.)

Anyway, there’s only so much you can do at the top of a tall tower, so after about 15 minutes we headed back down. I truly have a much greater appreciation for the hardships Rapunzel experienced. That can’t have been an easy gig.

With the tower behind us, quite literally a this point, it was time to find something to eat and then probably head back to our hotel. As much as we may have wanted to explore more, the truth was, we had to be back on the road at 6:00 a.m. local time (4:00 a.m. internal clock time.) I needed to go to bed fairly soon.

Our food search, and my insistence, led us to the Riverwalk, and I gotta say, that place is pretty cool. Before long, we came upon a restaurant named Casa Rio. Once I verified that it was in no way affiliated with Cafe Rio we took a vote. We agreed it looked good, smelled good and appeared highly unlikely to force anything on us that would resemble Utah Mexican cuisine. It was unanimous. We put our name on the list and parked it.

My risk taker son, Braden (cough, splutter, choke) predictably had a bean burrito with rice and beans. Thankfully, Logan was feeling more adventurous and ordered the most amazing shrimp tacos. In fact, once we were served, I suddenly wished I had ordered what he had instead of my own dish, although the stuffed poblano chili was also very good.

By dinner’s end, dark had fallen and we had missed the last shuttle to our hotel. So after I did the required souvenir shopping (magnet for Shannon and a license plate for our family room wall) we set off on the walk back to our hotel. Unfortunately, much like Phoenix, it doesn’t get cooler with nightfall. Also unfortunately, the humidity didn’t slacken under the cover of darkness either. By the time we arrived back at our hotel, it was safe to say that certain portions of the day’s wardrobe would require an immediate quarantine.

Following some quick showers, we grudgingly set our alarms, turned out the lights, and for the first time in years, I fell instantly asleep in a hotel bed. And I only had to pee in the middle of the night once. Is it sad that I remember that fact as one the great highlights of the day? On second thought, don’t answer that.

Part 4 of The Rapier Guys Road Trip will appear later this week.