Texas Summer Solstice: A Guide to Exhausting Yourself in the Name of ‘Culture’

Ah, the summer solstice—the one day a year when Texans collectively pretend they care about daylight. Sure, NASA says it’s the longest day of the year, but let’s be real: in Texas, every day feels like an eternity when you’re stuck in traffic on I-35. Still, the powers that be have decreed that we must celebrate this celestial event by cramming in as many ‘quintessentially Texan’ activities as possible before the sun sets. Because nothing says ‘authentic experience’ like speed-running cultural clichés.

First up: barbecue in Lockhart. Because nothing screams ‘I’m a local’ like waiting in line for two hours just to eat meat that’s been smoked longer than your uncle’s Marlboros. And while you’re at it, why not visit the Alamo? Sure, you’ll spend more time circling for parking than actually learning about Texas history, but hey—at least you can Instagram the ‘Remember the Alamo’ sign and pretend you’re cultured.

Next, dance at Gruene Hall, the oldest dance hall in Texas. Or, as I like to call it, ‘the place where tourists awkwardly shuffle while locals side-eye them from the bar.’ Don’t forget to grab a kolache from West, Texas—because nothing says ‘I’m embracing local culture’ like eating a Czech pastry while complaining that it’s not as good as the ones in L.A.

And let’s not forget the rodeo. Because what’s more Texan than watching grown adults risk life and limb for a belt buckle? Or, if you’re feeling fancy, head to the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, where you can attempt to eat a 72-ounce steak while questioning all your life choices.

Of course, no Texas bucket list is complete without floating a river in Central Texas. Just be prepared to share the water with 500 of your closest friends, all of whom brought their own Bluetooth speakers blaring conflicting playlists. And if you’re lucky, you might even spot a bat under the Congress Avenue Bridge—or, more likely, a tourist screaming because they thought it was a vampire.

By the time you’ve checked off half these activities, you’ll be so exhausted that you’ll collapse into a Whataburger booth at midnight, wondering why you didn’t just stay home and blast the AC like a normal person. But hey, at least you can say you ‘lived authentically’ for one whole day. Until tomorrow, when you go back to complaining about the humidity. Happy solstice, y’all.