Texas' Top Tourist Spots: A Survival Guide for the Claustrophobic and Sane

Ah, Texas—the land of big hats, bigger egos, and the absolute biggest crowds at every vaguely Instagrammable location. Governor Greg Abbott is out here bragging about 62 million visitors like it’s a flex, but let’s be real: half of those people are just lost Californians who took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and ended up sweating through their athleisure in the Schlitterbahn parking lot.

According to some very scientific study (conducted by Canadians, no less, who probably think Texas is just one giant rodeo), the most overcrowded tourist spots in the Lone Star State have been ranked. And surprise, surprise—New Braunfels is hogging the top two spots like it’s the last pair of cowboy boots at a Black Friday sale. Schlitterbahn Waterpark and the Comal River? More like Schlitter-bahn-your-head-against-a-wall and Comal River of Tears when you realize you’ll be waiting in line longer than it took to build the Alamo.

But let’s talk about Austin’s iconic Barton Springs Pool, coming in at a cool fifth place. Nothing says ‘relaxing dip’ like bobbing in mineral water while a stranger’s sunscreen-slathered toddler kicks you in the ribs. And the San Antonio River Walk? Please. It’s just a glorified mall food court with marginally better margaritas and twice the number of confused tourists holding selfie sticks like they’re conducting an orchestra.

Meanwhile, Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo is out here proving that yes, people will indeed drive hours to stare at half-buried cars covered in graffiti. Groundbreaking. And let’s not forget the Alamo, where visitors can experience the historic battle cry: ‘Remember to stand in line for 45 minutes to see a tiny building!’

So, if you’re planning a trip to Texas in 2025, here’s my pro tip: stay home. Or better yet, go to Oklahoma. I hear they have plenty of space. And if you must visit, maybe just… don’t. Or at least pack a survival kit: extra deodorant, a portable fan, and the patience of a saint who’s been stuck behind a family of five arguing over where to eat for the 17th time. Happy trails, y’all—just maybe not these trails.

—Riley Monroe, who would rather die than queue for a water slide