Holly’s in Post

Holly’s Drive Inn

Holly’s Drive Inn located in Post, Texas.

ziaThis is the best recent example of what a true West Texas diner, drive-in, dive, local hangout should be. Bonus: the food was good. My stop? Food wasn’t just good, it was exceptional. Outstanding. Of course, I was hungry, but still, really enjoyable fare.

It’s in Post, Texas, parked on the eastern flank of Llano Estacado, what the first Spanish explorers named the “Staked Plains,” owing to its mixture of red rock, limestone, and other sedimentary layers riddled with lava, and I don’t know what all. I forgot my copy of Roadside Geology of Texas — a mistake to neglect that book on the summer road trips.

In the indoor dining area, along the walls, there were posters of the local football teams, high school, be my guess, go (insert team’s name here). Saw some images that dated back to 1989. Faded but still strong.

Glory days?

As a slice of true Americana, as a taste of what the hinterlands represent? Brilliant.

Little piece of a previous era, only slightly updated.

Holly’s in Post

Had a “Burger Basket,” think that’s what it was called.

Burger patty, cooked good and dead, fresh lettuce, tomato, pickle, and a snappy onion slice on a crisp baked bun, served over a basket of “French-cut” fries. Came out piping hot. Wanted to get a “malted,” or a shake, but I was stuffed from the burger and fries, and didn’t dare risk sleeping on the road.

By that point in our adventure, my back was sore from a too-soft a mattress in Santa Fe, and I was moving like a little, old man. That stooped hobble, when exiting the car, yeah, it’s not an attractive look.

When I staggered into Holly’s Drive Inn, though, I was buoyed by the sights, smells, and sounds. It’s a throwback to a bygone century, a time when families, and high school football defined the most important values.

Holly’s in Post

Good deal for the food, and as pleasant an experience as ever, made richer for taking the time to stop, observe, and partake.

Across the street, looked like a public pool, but I was unsure. It was still a long way home.

#RoadTrip

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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