Kissing Oak

Skimming the eyebrow-raising (or perhaps eyebrow-lowering) story that accompanies it, I got interested in seeing this oak in our San Antonio hotel room,

Sunday afternoon, after a birthday weekend of some indulgence, my patient friends were weary of my tree detours and ready to get home. A craving for accomplishment gnawed at me. We’d already seen two in New Braunfels and I had my heart set on seeing two more in San Marcos. Crossing a couple more off my list excited my inner nerd.

Yeah, ok, now my tree hunt resembles the Pokémon Go game, with its annoying slogan: Gotta Catch ‘em All! (Can you tell I’m a mother of an eleven year old boy?) As we neared the highway exit, I could relate to addicted gamers, feigning nonchalance as I mentioned maybe we might just check out one or two more?

Feeling the time pressure, I drove right past the site and the obscure landmarks listed near the campus of Texas State University and the San Marcos river: a Boy Scout Lodge and some American Legion building. Circling back, it dawned on me that there was a tall chain-link fence surrounding the tree. Is the Boy Scout lodge under construction or what? I never found out.

This qualifies as my least inspired tree visit so far.

From what I could tell, this was yet another old, but comparatively not astonishing live oak, and the barrier certainly didn’t help. Like the Church Oak we saw before lunch, it couldn’t possibly surpass the spectacular Founders Oak we visited first.

Ok, so tell me if you think this is cringe-y... 

Like the beginning of a Hallmark movie, the 2015 update of Famous Trees of Texas opens with the saccharine question: How powerful is a kiss? 

In anticipation of his appearance, some local ladies got together to sew a Texas flag to present to then senator, Sam Houston, the eventual first President of the Texas Republic, who (unsuccessfully) campaigned for governor under this tree 163 years ago in 1857. This was obviously a simpler time, but you’d think these ladies had something better to do.
After receiving this gift and making his speech, (which reportedly went on for FOUR HOURS WTF???) he went down the line, kissing each of the ladies who contributed. I guess this really made the papers, as this is why the tree got documented. The older book uses the word “incident” describing this moment that provided a name for this historic oak, but attempts to portray the whole thing as charming: “...he gallantly bussed each to show his added appreciation.”  ICK. We’ve all heard of politicians kissing a baby or whatever, but in a modern light, this just seems questionable.

The newer edition brings up a bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) that lived on this site which, in 2012, developed health issues serious enough that it was slated for removal. Some folks were upset that maybe this was the real Kissing Oak about to be destroyed! Foresters from Texas A&M Forest Service estimated the age of the remaining trees in the area and decided that the largest live oak, as well as the bur, would’ve been there at the same point in history. Since this update frustratingly divulges none of their age calculations, it’s tempting to believe the bur oak they removed was the notable specimen which prompted the speech location in the first place…? I wonder if perhaps this live oak could now be showing symptoms of ill health?

My pals didn’t even leave the car, so I just ran over a snapped a couple pics in the blazing heat. Squinting in an unflattering selfie in front of the fence, the searing sun turned my transition lenses dark. There was no awe, no inspiration, no reverence. I got back in the driver’s seat, with another Pokémon added to my growing collection.

(The quick scribble is supposed to be me catching tree Pokémon—see the little targets on them?🤓).

Log Cabin Oaks

Transformative experiences motivate me, but this time I was propelled to satisfy my collection fever. Leaping from my car, phone in hand, my Tree-Pokemon game continued.

Keeping their complaints to themselves, my fellow adventurers allowed me to conquer my last quest of this voyage. 

A two-lane road, heading towards Texas State University splits the cracked and weedy parking lot of a dilapidated, possibly defunct (or closed on Sunday???) storefront, labeled Colloquium books.

This is where we located what was once a grove of trees under which early settlers built a log cabin that became San Marcos’s first county courthouse 170 years ago in 1850. Now diminished by urbanization, if you were groovin’ on a Sunday afternoon down Moon Street, (just a couple of blocks from the (chain-link fence encircled) Kissing Oak), you might not realize that these live oaks, nearly swallowed by asphalt and cement, were significant.

Of all the reasons for which to ruin a grove of trees, a lot for cars is one of the more depressing. Searing hot asphalt during brutal Texas summers destroys surface roots. Not to even mention the compression of traffic, impervious paving smothers off oxygen, water and nutrients to the roots, slowly, but steadily killing the trees. These oaks are likely 200 years old!
Park somewhere else.

Could one, perhaps, carefully remove the asphalt, I wondered?

I tried googling this question, envisioning a restoration project. Instead of answers, I found disturbing questions.

Why so little regard for these irreplaceable living artifacts? For trees in general?

Why is a driveway more important?

Sigh.

You can tell I was in a hurry as I briefly documented the group on video. Trotting over, a bit confused by the lack of log cabin or historical marker, (Did I miss these in my haste?), I called the tree the wrong name.

One specimen, sandwiched between a sidewalk and the street, has a bloated nub, covered in an intricately furrowed pattern of bark— a healed-over branch removal wound from long ago.

Clearly elated at hitting my goal: five tree visits over this momentous birthday weekend, my goofy smile in the video says it all.