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| Because
my children have dragged our family through practically every other
traditional zoo in the Northern Hemisphere, and because we needed
one last financially irresponsible escapade before school started
this year, we decided to make a trip to the Fossil Rim Wildlife Center
in Glen
Rose, Texas. Unlike a traditional zoo where the wildlife is safely
secured within enclosures and only pose a danger to your nostrils,
Fossil Rim is a drive-through animal experience. It's what would happen
if a traditional zoo was managed by a really unreliable babysitter.
The animals seem to be left to their own devices as they freely play
in the street barefoot and are encouraged to take food from strangers.
(I think I even saw some of them swimming less than thirty minutes
after they'd eaten!) |
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After checking
in and purchasing our tickets, which included a large paper bag containing
grain pellets that I'll be finding in my floorboard for the next decade,
we began our drive into the wilds of Central
Texas. At first we were a little disappointed that we were only
seeing a bunch of freeloading squirrels (are there any other kind?)
and some apathetic antelope-thingies that looked like they were watching
the Golf Channel after eating a large Mexican dinner.
Speaking of large Mexican dinners, my comfort level on this excursion
had been significantly compromised by our lunch at a Fort
Worth location of Uncle Julio's Mexican Restaurant, my own culinary
utopia. With the combination of my salsa IV drip, a fajita dinner,
my daughters' table scraps, and the famous Uncle Julio's chocolate
piñata (a milk-chocolate shell full of strawberries, churros,
chocolate-filled empanadas, and other treats certain to ruin my chances
of competing on American Ninja Warrior), I had ingested my
yearly allotment of calories in one sitting and was trying to avoid
slipping into a Tex-Mex coma.
As we continued driving down deserted rocky trails and through empty
fields of tall grasses, all I could think about, besides the trip
being a total bust, was the likelihood that, with my windows down,
I might be set upon by an especially acrobatic tick. Just as I was
about to apologize to my family for insisting that this would be a
lot more fun than Six Flags, all three of my daughters released one
of their signature ear-shattering squeals of delight as a couple of
overly-frisky ostriches advanced toward the car. In an extremely un-Big
Bird-like fashion, these hooligan fowl invited themselves into our
personal space and systematically probed our appendages for food pellets
until we all felt thoroughly violated. (I'm fairly certain that they
left some DNA on my interior.) |
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Just after the
ostrich assault, we reached the halfway point in the course where
the park designers had strategically placed the gift shop. Positioned
to lull tourists into a euphoric state of careless spending, the gift
shop stands atop a high bluff that overlooks the lush valley of the
wildlife park below. As I stood gazing at the beautifully rugged landscape,
a cordial Australian sales associate assisted my daughters in selecting
the largest and most expensive plush animals possible-because we still
have room for a few more inside our home if we cram really hard and
give up breathing.
The second half of our self-driven tour ended without incident, and
we did encounter an aloof zebra, some distant rhinos and even a few
lethargic cheetahs, but the real highlight of our trip took place
at dusk when we embarked on the Discovery After Dark tour. This special
event was led by a spritely young guide and two conservation education
interns, all of whom were hired specifically to make me feel old.
As our designated intern drove us out into the park in an open-air
bus, she made sure to expose us to a series of authentic African potholes,
one of which caused a Latino gentleman standing beside me to balance
himself by instinctively grabbing me around the waist-tango style.
I must admit that even though I laughed it off as he apologized (I
think) profusely in Spanish, I was a little disappointed that he didn't
have a rose in his teeth. |
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Once the jostling
had given us all epic wedgies, we finally reached the feature we'd
been waiting for (other than the air-conditioned drive back to the
hotel)-the giraffe encounter! Several of these majestic animals immediately
approached the bus and leaned in to take our grain pellets. To express
their appreciation, they left our hands covered in thick loogie strands
from their elongated black tongues. Although our intern assured us
that giraffe saliva contains antibacterial properties, she failed
to mention, as I learned later, that they are also fond of using their
tongues to taste one another's urine. (Thanks, Animal Planet!)
With our hair blowing in the cool evening breeze, carrying only a
hint of exotic manure, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction that
we had ended the summer with a great family experience. And with my
wife's birthday coming up, this trip gave me an idea for the perfect
gift-tango lessons! (I wonder if the Latino guy is available.)
© Jase Graves
"Quips and Salsa" September
16, 2017 column
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