I love driving west along the open roads of Texas.

I borrowed Heather's car, dropped her off at work in Austin, and headed out on the highway for Lyndon Baines Johnson's ranch, now a national park site run by the Department of the Interior -- all except the ranch house, where Lady Bird still lives. It was a pleasantly warm Texas day -- a feeling of spring, though it's only February.

After the tour of the ranch -- a tram tour that stops at the guest house and family cemetery before bouncing along the rest of the acres -- I took some time to walk around, enjoying the warm Texas afternoon. The longhorns walk toward me and the whitetails watch suspisciously as my feet crunch along the trail beside the fence where the semi-wild life are preserved. I make my way to the Pedernales River, listening to the birds and the wind, trying to block out the sound of the cars.

Then I remember. I don't have to. Unlike the other presidential homes I've visited, this one isn't from pre-Civil War America. Lady Bird still lives here; LBJ made some of the car noise, flying around the ranch in his Lincoln convertibles. He brought electricity to the Hill Country and is the reason for the power lines crossing the hillsides. Oh what a peaceful place. He said something along the lines of, It's not possible to live out here without becoming a part of the land.

Another thing I noticed on the day -- actually had been noticing for a few days, but pondered it at more length today -- was the way some words are pronounced in Texas. "Manor" comes out "maynor." "Llano," which should be "Yano" is "Lano." "Pedernales" moves some letters, and comes out "Perdenales." "Descent" -- as in going down, landing, whathaveyou -- which is basically one syllable where I come from, is drawn out into "dee-scent" out here.

I love to travel.