As hard as it might be for a fast-food place in general and a Burger King in particular to fall short of my expectations, this place has done it.
In short, all I really hope for from an establishment of this sort is that the fries are going to be hot and that it is going to be open when it's supposed to be. I have no idea whether the fries at this place were any good -- because it closed at least two hours earlier than it should have and I wasn't able to order them or anything else.
This was especially unfortunate, because I was attending an event at nearby Rice University that kept me on campus late on a Saturday night, and the Burger King next to my hotel was the only place to eat. I got there right at midnight, read the sign sign that said it was open until 2 a.m. that day, and then discovered the door was locked. All the doors were locked. The unpleasant-looking young man behind the counter could not have missed that I was there, rattling the doors and trying to get in, but would not make eye contact and did not have the decency to tell me why I couldn't get in.
Clearly, management is pretty indifferent at this particular BK outlet; the company can run those creepy, "edgy" commercials about "the King," but it hardly matters if the stores won't let anybody in. Avoid this one at all hours, because even if they let you in, the commitment to customer service is clearly pretty low and chances are you will end up unhappy about something else anyway.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Cave Without a Name (Boerne, Texas)
The following article originally appeared in my "Canyon Lake Outdoors" column in The Hilltop Reporter weekly newspaper, for which I am the assistant editor. The Cave Without a Name is just such a terrific place that wanted to share it with my readers on this site as well.
Amazingly, of more than 4,300 known caves in Texas, the vast majority are on private property and a mere seven are run as commercial enterprises that are open to the public. One of those, however, is not just down the road from Canyon Lake, it is an exceptionally beautiful natural site and a genuine Hill Country treasure.
Located north of Boerne and just off of FM 474/East Blanco Road, “the Cave Without a Name” is worth a visit by anyone in the area interested in doing something a little different or looking for a fun way to occupy out of town guests for the afternoon. One of the most appealing characteristics of the cave during much of the year, especially one as hot as this has been, is its constant cool temperature, which can make a visit to it on a hot day a particularly pleasant experience.
“It was discovered in the late ’20s, when ranchers noticed steam coming up around a big rock that used to sit here,” said site manager Mike Burrell, who has worked at the cave for about 11 years. “The cave is always about 66 degrees, always about 100 percent humidity, so on really cold winter days, that relatively warm, moist air hits the cold air and condenses.”
When the landowners eventually moved the rock, they discovered a sinkhole descending 55 feet into the ground. (That hole is about 30,000 years old and eventually converged with the cave itself, which is about 500,000 years old.) Great numbers of prehistoric animal bones have since been found in the cave but no evidence of a human presence. Indeed, it would seem that the first people to make any use of the cave were moonshiners, who set up a still in one of its upper chambers during Prohibition.
“It was not until after Prohibition was over that some kids snuck in here,” Burrell said. “They were the first ones to go beyond where the still was and find the big part of the cave.” After they reported what they had found, people started to explore the cave with ropes and ladders.
In 1938, an entrepreneur from San Antonio named Jimmy Horn purchased the site, installed lights and gravel trails over the natural muddy floor, and in 1939 opened it to the public as an attraction. The following year, Burrell said, Horn held a contest to name the cave, and it was won by a little boy who said that it was too beautiful to have a name, and it was thus simply called “the Cave Without a Name.” For a brief period in the 1960s, one of the site’s subsequent owners did dub it “Century Caverns,” but this caused resentment among locals, who expected to see something new associated with the unfamiliar name but instead discovered it to be the cave they already knew.
Features of the cave include several large galleries containing stunning arrays of stalactites and stalagmites of every size, towering columns, and formations such as flowing draperies, soda straws, and pools of water. One of the most striking attributes of the place is how different one chamber is from another and the variety of features that can be found within them. One great cavern even functions as a natural amphitheater and is used for events like concerts and weddings.
Today, visitors to the cave are able to experience about a quarter-mile of its overall length, much of which has a subterranean stream running through it. There are, however, about three miles of explored passageways at the site — some underwater and accessible only to people with scuba gear — and portions of both that and some upper galleries that can be viewed from the cave floor have still not yet been investigated.
“We have not found the end to it,” said tour guide Luke Pennington. “We’ve kind of reached the end of where [scuba] tanks are going to take you.”
The Cave Without a Name is located at 235 Kreutzberg Road, Boerne, TX 78006. It is open year-round every day except Thanksgiving and Christmas, 9 a.m. – 6 p.m. Memorial Day to Labor Day and 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Labor Day to Memorial Day. For more information about visiting the cave or upcoming special events at it, call 830-537-4212 or go to www.CaveWithoutAName.com.
Amazingly, of more than 4,300 known caves in Texas, the vast majority are on private property and a mere seven are run as commercial enterprises that are open to the public. One of those, however, is not just down the road from Canyon Lake, it is an exceptionally beautiful natural site and a genuine Hill Country treasure.
Located north of Boerne and just off of FM 474/East Blanco Road, “the Cave Without a Name” is worth a visit by anyone in the area interested in doing something a little different or looking for a fun way to occupy out of town guests for the afternoon. One of the most appealing characteristics of the cave during much of the year, especially one as hot as this has been, is its constant cool temperature, which can make a visit to it on a hot day a particularly pleasant experience.
“It was discovered in the late ’20s, when ranchers noticed steam coming up around a big rock that used to sit here,” said site manager Mike Burrell, who has worked at the cave for about 11 years. “The cave is always about 66 degrees, always about 100 percent humidity, so on really cold winter days, that relatively warm, moist air hits the cold air and condenses.”
When the landowners eventually moved the rock, they discovered a sinkhole descending 55 feet into the ground. (That hole is about 30,000 years old and eventually converged with the cave itself, which is about 500,000 years old.) Great numbers of prehistoric animal bones have since been found in the cave but no evidence of a human presence. Indeed, it would seem that the first people to make any use of the cave were moonshiners, who set up a still in one of its upper chambers during Prohibition.
“It was not until after Prohibition was over that some kids snuck in here,” Burrell said. “They were the first ones to go beyond where the still was and find the big part of the cave.” After they reported what they had found, people started to explore the cave with ropes and ladders.
In 1938, an entrepreneur from San Antonio named Jimmy Horn purchased the site, installed lights and gravel trails over the natural muddy floor, and in 1939 opened it to the public as an attraction. The following year, Burrell said, Horn held a contest to name the cave, and it was won by a little boy who said that it was too beautiful to have a name, and it was thus simply called “the Cave Without a Name.” For a brief period in the 1960s, one of the site’s subsequent owners did dub it “Century Caverns,” but this caused resentment among locals, who expected to see something new associated with the unfamiliar name but instead discovered it to be the cave they already knew.
Features of the cave include several large galleries containing stunning arrays of stalactites and stalagmites of every size, towering columns, and formations such as flowing draperies, soda straws, and pools of water. One of the most striking attributes of the place is how different one chamber is from another and the variety of features that can be found within them. One great cavern even functions as a natural amphitheater and is used for events like concerts and weddings.
Today, visitors to the cave are able to experience about a quarter-mile of its overall length, much of which has a subterranean stream running through it. There are, however, about three miles of explored passageways at the site — some underwater and accessible only to people with scuba gear — and portions of both that and some upper galleries that can be viewed from the cave floor have still not yet been investigated.
“We have not found the end to it,” said tour guide Luke Pennington. “We’ve kind of reached the end of where [scuba] tanks are going to take you.”
The Cave Without a Name is located at 235 Kreutzberg Road, Boerne, TX 78006. It is open year-round every day except Thanksgiving and Christmas, 9 a.m. – 6 p.m. Memorial Day to Labor Day and 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Labor Day to Memorial Day. For more information about visiting the cave or upcoming special events at it, call 830-537-4212 or go to www.CaveWithoutAName.com.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Fairfield Inn & Suites, Gadsden, Alabama
GADSDEN, ALABAMA -- For anyone passing through northeastern Alabama I recommend the Fairfield Inn & Suites off of I-59 exit 181, where I am currently staying now on my way back home to Texas. This beautiful facility just opened in April 2009 and still has that "new hotel smell." The staff is also very professional, and the desk clerk, Gerald, was so kind and helpful that my wife described him as a "sweetie." There is also a very good Ruby Tuesdays restaurant right across the street and an easy walk from the hotel at which my wife and I had a very enjoyable meal.
Fairfield Inn & Suites Gadsden is located at 116 Walker Street,
Gadsden, AL 35904; (256) 538-2100.
Fairfield Inn & Suites Gadsden is located at 116 Walker Street,
Gadsden, AL 35904; (256) 538-2100.
Friday, October 9, 2009
'Ghosthunting Maryland' Book Tour
Left Monday, October 5, on a three-day drive from Texas to Maryland and kicked off the book tour for Ghosthunting Maryland on Friday with three events! Was on the road for nearly 12 hours and during that time did signings at Costco and Sam's Club and a talk to the Inspired Ghost Tracking paranormal group (http://www.americashauntedroadtrip.com/profiles/blogs/inspired-ghost-tracking-etc).
For anyone who is interested, I will be posting more detailed accounts of my promotional activities on the America's Haunted Road Trip social networking site, at http://www.americashauntedroadtrip.com.
Many of my upcoming events are listed at http://www.booktour.com/author/michael_j_varhola.
For anyone who is interested, I will be posting more detailed accounts of my promotional activities on the America's Haunted Road Trip social networking site, at http://www.americashauntedroadtrip.com.
Many of my upcoming events are listed at http://www.booktour.com/author/michael_j_varhola.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Restaurant Report: Iron Skillet, Knoxville, Tenn.
KNOXVILLE, TENNESEE -- Just had a somewhat disquieting and ominous experience at the Iron Skillet restaurant at +/- Exit 360 off of I-40, just west of Knoxville. I was, admittedly, tired, hungry, a bit irritable, and still somewhat hung over from the night before -- but probably half the people at Iron Skillet at any given time are suffering from at least two of those conditions, so presumably it was not just me.
In any event, I was driving west on I-40, en route from Maryland to Texas after finishing up fieldwork for my latest book in the former state. It was a little after 10 p.m. and I had just got done meeting with an author who is doing work for my Skirmisher Publishing LLC and was looking for a place to spend the night and get a bite to eat. When I saw the roadside sign for the Iron Skillet, which noted it was "open 24 hours," it sound like just the right thing.
I exited and drove over to the restaurant was, which was affiliated with a Petro travel plaza. I seated myself, as per the sign at the entrance, and pretty quickly my waitress, an older white woman, came over, gave me a menu, and asked what I wanted to drink. I told her just water while I was deciding what I was going to eat.
After a few minutes, she came back and I ordered the chicken-fried steak and eggs and a cup of coffee. She asked me how I wanted my eggs, etc., started to turn away, and then, almost as an afterthought, asked me what kind of toast I wanted. I asked if they had rye toast.
"Rye toast?" she said, turning to look me full in the face for the first time and the pausing momentarily. "Yes, we have rye toast."
Alright, so call me paranoid and exahusted, but the first thing that struck me is, "Oh my God, she thinks I'm Jewish because I ordered rye toast!" Now I certainly do not consider there is any shame in being taken for Jewish, and it actually happens to me fairly frequently. But there is a certain horror associated with being picked out as a member of a particular group, especially when one is tired, alone, and in a part of the country that -- fairly or unfairly -- is not necessarily known for its love of minorities.
And things did not improve after that. I waited and waited for my coffee, and after about 10 minutes ask for it again. Amid profuse apologies, my waitress went and got it.
I then waited, and waited, and waited for my food. At some point, I heard my waitress yacking in the kitchen and in the midst of it heard her yell the words "rye toast!" and every five or 10 minutes or so whe would shamble past and tell me my food was coming. This was, keep in mind, near 11 p.m., the restaurant was by no means full, and it appeared to be fully staffed.
After nearly half an hour, my food finally arrived, couched in apologies and along with a couple of moderately scorched pieces of rye toast which the waitress offered to replace if they were "too dark" for me. Not wanting to do anything to prolong the experience or draw any special attention, I said they were fine and started eating ... and discovered the eggs weren't hot. The chicken-fried steak definitely was -- and did not seem to be a chicken-fried pork loin, which I was afraid they might give me just to sabotage whatever attempts at keeping kosher they might have thought I was making -- and the hash browns were midway in temperature between the other two items. I don't even want to go into how eggs not being hot is one of my pet peeves, because lots of people like them hot, and if there is one thing a place called Iron Skillet should be expected to get right, it is eggs.
There are a handful of other things associated with my dinner I could bitch about, but won't bother; it's 1 a.m., I am not any less tired than I was before, and I am now riding a case of heartburn on top of everything else. My odyssey continues in the morning and I should probably turn in.
In any event, I was driving west on I-40, en route from Maryland to Texas after finishing up fieldwork for my latest book in the former state. It was a little after 10 p.m. and I had just got done meeting with an author who is doing work for my Skirmisher Publishing LLC and was looking for a place to spend the night and get a bite to eat. When I saw the roadside sign for the Iron Skillet, which noted it was "open 24 hours," it sound like just the right thing.
I exited and drove over to the restaurant was, which was affiliated with a Petro travel plaza. I seated myself, as per the sign at the entrance, and pretty quickly my waitress, an older white woman, came over, gave me a menu, and asked what I wanted to drink. I told her just water while I was deciding what I was going to eat.
After a few minutes, she came back and I ordered the chicken-fried steak and eggs and a cup of coffee. She asked me how I wanted my eggs, etc., started to turn away, and then, almost as an afterthought, asked me what kind of toast I wanted. I asked if they had rye toast.
"Rye toast?" she said, turning to look me full in the face for the first time and the pausing momentarily. "Yes, we have rye toast."
Alright, so call me paranoid and exahusted, but the first thing that struck me is, "Oh my God, she thinks I'm Jewish because I ordered rye toast!" Now I certainly do not consider there is any shame in being taken for Jewish, and it actually happens to me fairly frequently. But there is a certain horror associated with being picked out as a member of a particular group, especially when one is tired, alone, and in a part of the country that -- fairly or unfairly -- is not necessarily known for its love of minorities.
And things did not improve after that. I waited and waited for my coffee, and after about 10 minutes ask for it again. Amid profuse apologies, my waitress went and got it.
I then waited, and waited, and waited for my food. At some point, I heard my waitress yacking in the kitchen and in the midst of it heard her yell the words "rye toast!" and every five or 10 minutes or so whe would shamble past and tell me my food was coming. This was, keep in mind, near 11 p.m., the restaurant was by no means full, and it appeared to be fully staffed.
After nearly half an hour, my food finally arrived, couched in apologies and along with a couple of moderately scorched pieces of rye toast which the waitress offered to replace if they were "too dark" for me. Not wanting to do anything to prolong the experience or draw any special attention, I said they were fine and started eating ... and discovered the eggs weren't hot. The chicken-fried steak definitely was -- and did not seem to be a chicken-fried pork loin, which I was afraid they might give me just to sabotage whatever attempts at keeping kosher they might have thought I was making -- and the hash browns were midway in temperature between the other two items. I don't even want to go into how eggs not being hot is one of my pet peeves, because lots of people like them hot, and if there is one thing a place called Iron Skillet should be expected to get right, it is eggs.
There are a handful of other things associated with my dinner I could bitch about, but won't bother; it's 1 a.m., I am not any less tired than I was before, and I am now riding a case of heartburn on top of everything else. My odyssey continues in the morning and I should probably turn in.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Mill Street Inn, Cambridge, Maryland
Just had a very pleasant stay the the Mill Street Inn in Cambridge, Maryland, while in the field doing research for my current project, Ghosthunting Maryland! Was very impressed with this historic little establishment and would heartily recommend it to anyone traveling out to the Eastern Shore or looking for a fun and relaxing place to spend a few days.
Built in 1894, this beautiful Queen Anne home was designed by a local architect and lived in by the original family until just five years ago. The current owners, innkeepers Jennie and Skip Rideout, purchased it in 2004, converted it into a very comfortable bed-and-breakfast, and opened it to guests in 2006.
For me and my photographer, Chip Cassano, the location of the Mill Street Inn in Cambridge's historic district was very convenient, and made it very easy for us to visit a number of nearby sites of interest. This makes it an ideal base of operations for anyone interested in visiting local historic or reputedly haunted sites.
Built in 1894, this beautiful Queen Anne home was designed by a local architect and lived in by the original family until just five years ago. The current owners, innkeepers Jennie and Skip Rideout, purchased it in 2004, converted it into a very comfortable bed-and-breakfast, and opened it to guests in 2006. For me and my photographer, Chip Cassano, the location of the Mill Street Inn in Cambridge's historic district was very convenient, and made it very easy for us to visit a number of nearby sites of interest. This makes it an ideal base of operations for anyone interested in visiting local historic or reputedly haunted sites.
Monday, May 18, 2009
America's Haunted Road Trip
At the moment I am diligently working away on a book called Ghosthunting Maryland for publisher Clerisy Press and as one of the upcoming entries in its America's Haunted Road Trip series of travel guides. This fun, exciting, and sometimes scary project is, naturally -- or maybe supernaturally -- taking me all over the state (that's me in the "catacombs" of Westminster Hall in Baltimore a few days ago), so keep an eye on this spot for useful and actionable information that I gather and post here.
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