Old Baldy

Will I get lost? For how long?

Another morning in Austin, where I’d racked up enough tree visits to start stomping down my imposter syndrome, aaaaaaaand slept with an old flame from back in my twenties, who aggravated me for the millionth time. On this unseasonably warm October day, I ditched that scenario and got back on the road to McKinney Falls State Park, south of town.

Upon arrival, I explained to the person dressed like a forest ranger that I was looking for Old Baldy. She let me know that the path leading to it was closed and I would need to take another one that was roughly parallel.

I later stumbled on this site which randomly features a panoramic view of the cluttered little office — not something I would consider camera worthy.

The park sits where Onion and Williamson creeks come together.

Part of the El Camino Real de los Tejas National Historic Trail, which runs from Mexico City to the border of Louisiana, it was a major thoroughfare during the Spanish colonial era of the 18th century.

Meandering around on the white gravel roads, I tried to get my bearings using the map the park ranger had given me. There is always uncertainty trying to locate these trees. Will it be obvious? Will I easily find it right away? Will I get lost? For how long?

A few minutes of getting lost and finding your way is a worthwhile exercise. The idea of being lost alone for an hour or more is unsettling.

After parking, I set off on foot, not sure if this was a good starting point. First person I saw — Is this was the right trail to find the tree? He had no idea, but pointed me toward a YOU ARE HERE map.

Proceeding with trepidation I thought about another time I hiked in Austin and got lost with my girlfriends. Alone, I felt less comfortable than I had that day. Continuing, I again double-checked with the next couple I saw.

“Is this the Rock Shelter trail?” (This pretty trail leads to a natural limestone overhang used by native Americans — I’ve only seen it in photos).
“No, that trail is closed.” Same as the ranger said. I told them I was trying to find the big tree. “So are we!”

We decided to walk together.

“So…,” the guy asked me, “Why are you looking for Old Baldy?”

“Um well.” I hesitated. “I'm uh, kinda toying with a writing project… based on an old book.”

“What book?”
“It's uh, called the Famous Trees of Texas,” I answered.
“I have that book in my truck!”

“Seriously?!”

I was completely dumbfounded.

He said he'd been seeking out the trees for about three years and had visited all the ones to the west.
What?! Wow. Another person doing this.

DOING it.

Not THINKING about it. Not toying with the idea!
HALF DONE with his exploration. Actually TAKING ACTION on this idea that I’ve been overthinking.
For himself. Just for fun.

He had leaped over fences and spoken to land owners, collecting leaf, twig and acorn samples and taking polaroid pictures of the trees at the same angle as the photos in the book.

We stood there marveling at this coincidence for a bit before walking down to a little bridge crossing the mostly dry creek where Old Baldy's roots are growing — a perfect vantage point just a few feet above the roots.

Although I've gained a new appreciation for the tough live oaks, it’s exciting to see a different genus; Old Baldy is one of only three Bald Cypress (Taxodium distichum) on my list. 51 of the 72 living Famous Trees are live oaks — 33 Quercus virginiana and 21 Quercus fusiformis, (difficult to tell apart).

Gazing up at the ragged columnar trunk leading to the leaf canopy, we conversed. Noska is a talented tattoo artist in Austin. Doris Ann, of whom I unfortunately failed to get a good photo, studied forestry and retained her interest in trees. It sounded like she had joined him on more than one visit and I believe it was the San Saba Mother Pecan that she named as her favorite. She brought up a book I've been meaning to find, a memoir about a woman and the trees of Canada called Mnemonic.

She told me, “You'll learn things from this [project] and it might take you in directions you never expected.”

I believe it just did.

I’ll admit I felt of twinge of unoriginality learning that someone else had the same idea, as I’m just scratching the surface of this project. Talking with them, my insecurities faded and I found myself deeply inspired by the quiet way that Noska had been making progress... just because.

Totally analog

We walked back to the parking area and I got a look at his well-loved 3rd edition Famous Trees of Texas, with his system of marking on the map trees he’s visited and ones that were dead. He didn't even know about the website, preferring to use only the brief italicized location info at the bottom of each entry. The little polaroids were glued directly into the book. Some had scavenged leaves and twigs pressed between the pages.

What a crazy coincidence that he and I happened to show up there on the very same day!

The weird thing was that my 1st edition copy didn't include this tree. If it hadn't been for the website, I would have known nothing about it. I’m still not sure how he learned about it. My initial guess was that his 3rd edition book included it, but it’s not in there either. Perhaps the 2015??? or how else would he have known???

I debated going back to Austin to see the cemetery where the Governor Hogg Pecan had been before it died, or possibly heading a bit further south to find two trees in Kyle, Texas.

“Go to Kyle,” he told me decisively. He had already seen them.

We exchanged info, said goodbye and I walked back to my car. As they passed me in his truck, I held my Famous Trees of Texas out the window, silently thanking Old Baldy for getting me out the door that morning.

This 12 minute video from Texas Parks and Wildlife features beautiful shots of Old Baldy along with a few other famous specimens within the Texas state park system.