A mere 4-hour drive from DFW will take you deep into the Ouachita National Forest of southeastern Oklahoma and into the tiny town of Broken Bow. Now, don’t expect much here — that’s the point. The town has little to offer other than a few family restaurants and a gas station. But, follow the signs for the state-run Beavers Bend Resort Park and you’ll discover a hidden gem of nature — the 14,000-acre Lake Broken Bow, the Mountain Fork River whose sandy beaches offer great canoe picnic spots, 16 miles of hiking trails and 4 miles of mountain bike trails that wander along ridge tops, over creek bottoms, through tall stands of timber, and into areas so remote you can almost experience what early-day explorers must have felt. There’s even a tiny nature center and museum. Native wildlife includes deer, turkey, rabbit, bobcat, coyote and raccoon. Bald eagles likes to winter on the river, so keep your cameras handy.

Lodging is easy. The park offers a choice of a The Lakeview Lodge, cabins, or RV/tent camping. There’s also lots of neighboring cabin rentals and lodging available off the park premises. Be sure to book early, as more DFW families are discovering this place. There are little to no dining options at the park (except for one general store cafe), so be sure to pack your ice-chest filled with easy breakfast fare and lunches for picnics. Dinner in town is simple and kid-friendly and won’t break the bank.

This quiet retreat offers a lazy weekend for the nature-lover or miles of natural playground for the kids — either way, you’ll sleep soundly after a long day exploring what Beavers Bend has to offer.

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One of the joys of being a wildlife educator is the travel. Yes, you do spend most of the year in the city, where large school districts and elite private schools can easily fund the money to routinely schedule your programs. But, the real adventure is in the travel to small, out-of-the-way towns. Small churches and rural libraries spend the entire year hosting cake sales and car washes to raise the funds to have us visit their community once each summer.

As you drive due east from the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, the landscape rapidly changes from concrete and suburbs to tall, towering East Texas pines. The air becomes laden with humidity and smells of freshly mown grass and dry pine needles. Glimpses of swampy, bayou lakes, laced with cyprus knees, peek out between stands of heavy trees. Oil pumps, some rythmically moving up and down like egrets, others frozen in time, are sprinkled along the roadways, remnants of a fading era.

Between the long stretches of green are dots of small towns with names like Big Sandy, Uncertain, and Mount Pleasant. Each town has its own unique appeal, but almost always you’ll find the town square and historic courthouse, flower pot-decorated antique shops, peaceful white chapels, the local feed store, the old town graveyard, and historic houses ranging from cajun cottages to Victorian gingerbread. As in all of Texas, each town has a central railroad station, which is what allowed the town to prosper in the first place. Most are now defunct and abandoned, others still serve to transport freight and you can still hear the whistles on a set schedule.

Food is important in East Texas and each town has a favorite local cafe featuring the cobbler of the day. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a roadside stand selling local peaches, corn, and homegrown East Texas tomatoes. My favorite? The roadside crawfish and shrimp stands that you’ll find close to the Louisiana border. And, of course, there’s East Texas hot links, a special recipe sausage only found here and served with a fiery, hot sauce (of course).

I never feel more welcome than in East Texas. The small towns are filled with warm, welcoming folk, each yielding the distinctively lilting East Texas accent, mixed with a hint of Louisiana low-country drawl. “Where y’all from?” is always the curious first question, usually followed by the offer of a sweet tea or a Dr. Pepper. The audiences, both children and adults, are delightfully curious and awestuck by something as simple as a hedgehog. And, politeness abounds. You’ll hear “yes, Ma’am” dozens of times each visit and you never have to hold your own door. Who needs summer in the city when you’ve got East Texas?