Spring. The waters start to flow. A lake off the Seguin River. In these remote spots, you can get lucky and find some British couple who've built their dream place, a marina, a restaurant, B&B, or a nest of cottages. Follow the signs for their side road destinations, though be prepared for some odd encounters with crusty old locals who might prefer the dilapidated cabin fever style of hospitality. What you'll usually find are cottages and more cottages on both sides of the road. Of course you should have got your coffee back in town. Stopped at that gas station. Now there's no place to stop. You keep driving, hoping for a public beach or at least a boat launch. After a half-dozen of these cottage malls, you realize they don't have any, every foot of lake and riverfront, private property. Locals and cottagers walking along their gravel road visiting each other, will be friendly and puzzled. A what? Oh, well, no, not over here. Try that next town. But keep going and you'll get lucky somewhere.
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