70 Miles of Bad Road (original) (raw)

A trip by car from Fredericksburg to San Antonio in the early 20th century was not undertaken on a whim. In fact trip was too simple a word to describe the experience. It was a journey filled with surprises around every turn, attempted only by eccentric adventurers who enjoyed living dangerously.

Before WWI most Hill Country roads were horrible. There were few bridges. Cars were unreliable and underpowered. One old timer compared a Fredericksburg to San Antonio excursion to "roller skating over the Alps."

In December 1916 Robert Penniger, editor of the Fredericksburg Standard and Wochenblatt, drove from Fredericksburg to San Antonio in a Maxwell Touring Car. Penniger described the ordeal for his readers many of whom had never been beyond their home in the Pedernales Valley.

In those days a smart motorist hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. For a jaunt over any distance he packed lunch, emergency food and water, matches, blankets in the winter time, an extra can of gasoline (remember no gas stations) and all equipment needed to fix a flat tire.

On that cool December morning the Maxwell, anticipating the coming adventure, fired miraculously on the first crank and editor Penniger rolled out on Main Street. He splashed across Baron's Creek east of town, motored past the ruins of old Fort Martin Scott and then swung south following what would today be the Old San Antonio Road.

To call it a road was a stretch. It was 2 parallel wagon ruts.

After crossing the Pedernales the editor made good time through the bottom land, up the hill to Cain City and on to Grapetown, but upon reaching Bankersmith progress slowed dramatically. Recent rains had washed out large chunks of the road leaving "big muds holes, rivulets and hog wallows." The car bounced along at a snail's pace, "a-bumping and a-jolting like a bucking bronco."

Terrible road conditions continued up the High Hill to the Alamo Springs Railroad Station. At the summit Penniger saw the "polished piece of the Bear Mountain erected by the Nagel Bros. as a momento to drive carefully, else you might land in the grave yard." He hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come.

"From the summit," Penniger continued, "you can look way down into Kendall County, almost to the county seat, from where help has to come pretty soon or you never will see these sights again; the slopes of the mountain getting so bad that you will have to use a burro to get over this road."

There is a harsh beauty to the land on the back side of High Hill, but the road there was the roughest part of the journey. It was barely wide enough for a single vehicle as it zigged and zagged along the side of a steep, rocky incline.

The Maxwell was "bucking up and down hills, along a precipice that spells broken limbs if your gas wagon don't keep to the righteous and narrow path allotted for trespassing. What you can do if you meet somebody coming toward you, I don't know; luckily I've never had to find out."

Then after fording "Breite Creek, Schindel Creek, Block Creek and several other young ones that have no names yet you reach the beautiful Guadalupe River." The crossing was 100 ft. of rushing, swirling water marked by some dead trees, "and if you don't hit it just right, you will get stuck and require a foot bath, some replacement of good language and a mule team to reach August Offer's palace and refreshment emporium at Waring."

After crossing the Guadalupe in fine shape the editor reached Boerne at noon where he stopped on the side of the road for lunch. He found the road in good repair, recently graveled, allowing him to "romp on the gas" and make good time. He reached his destination at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. For the 70 mile trip he averaged10 mph.

"Bad roads," the editor concluded, "are propagators of bad language and are degeneratory to good morals, automobiles, wagons, glassware, carriages, millinery and derby hats."