“Y’all means Y’all” in recent years is a queer-friendly phrase that appears on mugs and T-shirts across the south; but in many places it feels like an aspiration. Here in Austin, Texas they mean it! That’s why we love this city!
Speeding around leafy green Austin at a whizbang pace, I feel like I’m in a chase scene straight out of Mission Impossible or Fast & Furious, but with one huge difference: I’m not a badass action hero pursuing villains, I’m a badass tourist pursuing all the best sights, sounds, and smells the intoxicating Lone Star capital has on offer. Tour group Biker Gang leads the way with an adrena line-fueled, gossip-filled adventure that loops in all the city’s top attractions and today I’m both riding around on an e-bike and riding high on life.
As we zoom all over town via busy and bustling ped bridges, under passes, sidewalks, and bike lanes we check off one requisite site after another like Zilker Park (home to Austin City Limits), Austin Public Library (famous for its rooftop garden with butterfly habitat), Doug Sahm Hill (think outstanding city views and photo ops), restaurant hotspots Elephant Room and Vera Cruz (where a line has already formed), Chuy’s Tex Mex (where George Bush’s daughter was busted with a fake ID), Cheer Up Charlies (a queer bar our guide describes as “a unique venue for the LGBTQ community”) and the city’s crown jewel—its pink-domed state capitol made from Texas granite (where I give a knowing nod to two hunky gays out for a morning stroll). Biker Gang (rated #1 on Trip Advisor) has also hosted a June Pride Ride.
My only regret is that this is my last day in Austin. This flies in the face of a tourist rule I always try and follow, which is that the best way to get acquainted with a new city and meet fellow travelers is by booking a group tour on the first day in town, not the last. Not that every day in this land of hoedowns, honky-tonks, and hand-holding homos hasn’t also been a doozy—it has!
DAY 1
As I glide into the city from Austin-Bergstrom International Airport via rental car, sites that perfectly fit the Austin stereotype, like a vegan pizza truck sitting in front of a Chevron station and a gay cowboy wearing a ten-gallon hat and a muscle shirt with Barbie scrawled across it in bubblegum pink, come into view. It’s a gloomy day, a real bummer. Streaked across the city’s skyline are numerous cranes perched above half-constructed skyscrapers. I would be a happy camper if just one of those cranes would pierce the clouds and drench the city in sunlight.
ATX Sign by Cin8 (Photo: by Cin8 Films)
Every Austinite I know swoons when I tell them I’m staying at the Carpenter Hotel, a hip lodging (every guest and staffer is way cooler than me) decorated in cowboy chic and a reference to an old union hall. Located near the shores of Lady Bird Lake where crisscrossing pedestrian paths are tread every weekend by shirtless joggers and stroller pushing mommy bloggers, the Carpenter is a part of Bunkhouse Hotels, a mini-Austin empire started by lesbian hotelier and local “queen of cool” Liz Lambert (who is no longer affiliated with the company).
In the span of a just a few short hours three people ask if I’ve dined at Carpenters Hall, the buzzy onsite restaurant. When I decide to peek at the dinnertime menu I see a couple of gay cuties in front of me at the host stand, a reliable siren’s call. I sit at the bar, order the charred Spanish octopus and eavesdrop on the couple next to me who are clearly on a first date as evidenced by their forced eye contact and feigned interest in each other’s tech-focused biographies.
Between dinner and bar hours, I squeeze in a little shopping. Sir Rat Leather Austin offers jock straps, harnesses, anal lubricants, and other assorted items for adults and is housed in a bungalow sectioned off into different rooms. The store is abuzz thanks to a gay guy leading several straight friends on a guided tour of the shop. He stops to explain the hanky code, and his crew are clearly enthralled. “Why don’t they make clothes like this for women,” says his gal pal while hoisting a pair of latex shorts in front of her sun dress. As I inquire about metal cock rings from shopkeeper Dex, he explains that the Quakers invented oats to keep men soft and tells me that during an average 8-hour shift he gets to see around three dicks. Where do I apply?
Still killing time I visit another store called Package, a purveyor of underwear and assorted gear aimed at gay men. As I stroll through aisles filled with Progress Pride swim bikinis, assless singlets, and wrist-flick ready fans with cheeky slogans like “Daddy Issues” and “Pussy Power,” salesclerk Daniel appears out of nowhere and talks me into trying on a black stringless thong from TOF Paris, which is like a jock strap without the straps. I feel like Cinderella trying on the glass slipper (a perfect fit!) though sufficed to say I’m grateful these undies aren’t made of glass.
Afterward, I head to LGBTQ-owned Lick Honest Ice Cream where staffers are wearing Pride buttons and company tees with the Lick logo written in rainbow colors. The brainchild of couple and business partners Anthony Sobotik and Chad Palmatier, Lick specializes in artisanal flavors like roasted beets and fresh mint and goat cheese with thyme and honey, and boasts several locations around town. I order a simple scoop of dark chocolate with olive oil and sea salt.
“Hi Daddy,” says a passerby on the street as I enter Oil Can Harry’s, a reliable Austin queer bar that’s been around forever. Upon entry I am greeted by the familiar command of “Make some f*cking noise” and thunderous applause for a queen lip syncing to Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” This all happens in a corner called Harry’s Dark Bar where a twink in a Y-back thong is rhythmically thrusting his booty in the air. His name is Kyle, and he is pulling singles from his skimpy undies to tip the queen. “Don’t give away all your hard-earned money,” I tell him. “But I love her,” he says with pleading Bambi eyes. I reach into my pocket and add several more dollar bills to his waistline so that an army of George Washingtons are now staring at me.
Moving through the bar I cross into the dance floor which is crowd ed with women who I’m guessing are straight, which tracks given the bar’s location near hetero nightlife hub Sixth Street. On the patio I’m hit on by a guy named Filippo who lives in Chicago with both his husband and his boyfriend (though his boyfriend also has a boyfriend). I decide to call it a night.
DAY 2
At exactly 11:06 A.M. I join the line at lesbian-owned la Barbecue, a beloved joint for counter-service ‘cue. Already the line is long, and folks are using umbrellas and in one case an empty pizza box to shelter from a steady drizzle. The crowd is mostly bespeckled and tatted hipsters dressed in tees and Texas ballcaps and it’s hard to tell if we’re in a line for barbecue or Beach House tickets. When I finally get waived in, I’m greeted by a lump of fatty brisket and a sign that says: Sausage is my safe word. I almost never eat red meat, but am so completely seduced by the way this beefy sample (tender on the inside, charred around the edges) melts in my mouth that I order the brisket sando which arrives neatly arranged on a pillowy soft potato bun with four sliced pickles ceremoniously arranged on top. I pair it with a side of creamy shells (a fancier version of mac ‘n’ cheese).
Most people are dining in groups as evidenced by their metal trays featuring piled high brisket and pulled pork ordered by the pound, slices of white bread stacked like a game of Jenga, and side dishes served by the pint. One thing I know for sure: None of us will be bottoming tonight.
I decide to spend the day strolling South Congress Avenue, a mecca of Austin cool featuring legendary fixtures like the bungalow-style Hotel San Jose (also from Bunkhouse Group) and iconic honky-tonk The Continental Club. Both look downright vintage on a strip now boasting upscale chains like Lululemon and Hermes, but vestiges of a funkier Austin can still be found up and down the strip including a t shirt in a shop that reads, “Abort Abbott” and another that says, “Make Willie Nelson President.”
Mural at Jo’s Coffee (Photo by Soenke Weiss)
“Y’all means y’all.” In recent years I’ve come to see this queer-friendly slogan on t-shirts, mugs, and in cities across the South, but in most places it feels like an aspiration. Here in Austin they mean it, and that’s why I love this city.
I pass under the phallic Austin Motel sign and decide to visit their shop and bodega based on the strength of a rainbow flag hanging in their window. Among the cute and quirky merch offerings are vintage issues of Playboy. I stop for a pick me up at queer-owned Jo’s Coffee, which hoists a Pride flag and is famous for its iconic I Love You So Much mural. (Later today I will visit The Little Gay Shop in East
Austin and purchase a tank top that says, “I Love Ass So Much”.) After snoozing away the latter part of the afternoon, I take a counter seat at dusk at Violet Crown. A combination café, retail shop and wine bar that is LGBTQ owned. This is the Austin hangout of my dreams. A scan of the room reveals a Pride Progress flag hanging from the ceiling and a steady stream of reliably Democratic voters canoodling in corners, clacking away at laptops, and noshing on large charcuterie boards with meats and cheeses artfully displayed in a floral fashion.
All of tonight’s wines by the glass come from female vintners. I settle on a Spanish orange wine and nibble on Castelvetrano olives with orange zest, garlic, and rosemary. I love this place. Minutes later I’m on famous 6th Street and sitting at the counter at gay owned Fukumoto where I’m squeezing lime over my purple sea weed salad and swirling together soy sauces and wasabi in preparation of the fatty tuna and pickled daikon maki roll that’s about to land in front of me. The song “Chick Chick” by Queendom is blasting from the speakers and for a minute I’m transported to Shinjuku, that venerable Tokyo hub of queer culture and nightlife cool.
But it’s the tonkot su sui-gyoza that wows me. This little dish features a quartet of pork and leek dumplings bobbing up and down in a creamy broth with dol lops of chili oil and stalks of broccolini. A yummy shoutout to chef Kazu Fukumoto for giving me a full Buddha belly tonight. Around the corner from Fukumoto is Barbarella, home to legendary queer party Tuesgayz, but alas it’s not the right night of the week so instead I drive north to the newish Austin Eagle which is inexplicably located in a terribly bland office park on the outskirts of the city.
I enter the bar to a dude in a leather puppy mask attentively crooning “Old Black Rum” by Great Big Sea. The place is packed full of both karaoke devotees and panting puppy fetishists, plus more than a few lesbians in cat ears, which I didn’t even know was a thing. A full scan of the room, meanwhile, reveals balloons covered in paw prints, various high boy tables, and a cordoned-off play area where a puppy is reclining on his back, hands curled tightly into a paw and happily receiving belly rubs from passersby. When I finally ask what the heck is going on, I learn that tonight is Kennel Karaoke, and the joint is jumping.
I join the queue at the bar where a guy in front of me is wagging his tail vigorously. Judging by the matching yellow mask, harness and thong he’s wearing, I’m guessing this canine cutie is purposefully not potty trained. When the current song ends the crowd barks like hounds in heat. I push past this room full of Rovers and make my way to the back patio which is fully private thanks to a wooden fence covered in leather fetish signage including one that reads: Live, Laugh, Lube. I end up in conversation with a pale Goth guy who explains the appeal of puppy play, but leave before hearing him belt out “Love You Like a Love Song.”
DAY 3
“I call this white trash Greece,” a nude man perched above me on a flat rock proclaims. His physique is not very Grecian (though neither is mine), but the comparison is otherwise apt. I’m at Hippie Hollow with Rodney and Jake, a couple who offer gay travelers a homestay through Misterbandb and who have joined me for a day of naked idyll on the shores of Lake Travis.
Hippie Hollow (Photo by Jason A. Heidemann)
It will be my only day of sunshine during this trip and I’m taking full advantage. Manmade Lake Travis sits about 20 miles northwest of Austin and requires a car, but if timed correctly it’s a lovely drive. Thanks to former first lady Ladybird Johnson, Hill country highways in spring are sprayed with blue bonnets, scarlet paint brushes, Indian blankets, and hanging staghorn ferns among others brilliant flowers— effectively putting the poppy fields of Dorothy’s Oz to shame.
Mansions sit along the fabled (and shrinking) shoreline at Lake Travis, as do resorts both posh and not. Sunny days turn the lake into a playground for locals of all stripes including naturists as Lake Travis is justly famous for being home to the only legal nude beach in the state of Texas. Nudity isn’t allowed in the parking lot, so we instead strip down beyond the first bathroom and continue onward to the gay section, which is the furthest of all the clothing-optional coves. There’s no real beach at Hippie Hollow and sunbathers instead spread themselves out along a series of rock slabs, though thanks to an ongoing drought sandy beaches are slowly being discovered.
It’s a balmy 77, and just breezy enough or a gentle wind to push the water outward from the seawall in gentle ripples resulting in tiny white caps that crest near the shoreline. “It looks like a Superbowl wave,” says Jake, as a naked man on a standup paddleboard glides past us.
The lake is quiet today, which stands in stark contrast to Splash Weekend, a bookending summer event that happens both Memorial and Labor Day weekends (aka First Splash and Last Splash) at Hippie Hollow and around town. Weekend events include pool parties, brunch es, and rooftop tea dances, but also a day at the lake in which party barges loaded with alcohol anchor just offshore and the queer community spends an entire day boozing and cruising.
By dusk the sun is fading faster than my vanishing tan line, so I head to French eatery Bureau de Poste for dinner. I’m perched on a stool perusing the abbreviated menu while behind me are shelves of artisanal popcorns, baked green pean snaps, and other high-end snacks I probably can’t afford. The abrupt product placement is because lesbian owned Bureau de Poste is tucked inside a neighborhood market called Tiny Grocer. Lesbian chef Jo Chan is at the helm of this new Austin eatery (Steph Steele owns the market), which tonight is thrumming with activity.
At the end of the bar, I see a lesbian couple polishing off a tempting duck cassoulet, their forks clashing as if in the middle of a fencing duel. I am intrigued by the dish, as is the bespeckled trans woman with long hair parted neatly like theater curtains who is sitting next to me. She nods toward the ladies, indicating to our server she also wants the duck. Not to be off trend, I order it as well, though I pair mine with an endive salad sprinkled with crunchy hazelnuts and citrus segments. I half expect the server to walk the aisles at Tiny Grocer plucking ingredients for my dinner and dropping them into a shopping cart, though I don’t think that’s how it works. Patio lights are twinkling outside as nightfall descends.
Texas BBQ (Photo by RFondren Photography)
The transgender security woman blocking the door at Rain pats me down and purposefully caresses the security wand at the crack of my booty. “What’s this your packing” she says sternly. “Junk in the trunk?” I appreciate the compliment, but am guessing she’s used that line before.
Rain is another longstanding Austin gay bar that holds a special place in my heart. During my first Austin visit in 2006 I was bragging to a brash Texan from a Houston oil clan that I had procured a pair of top-tier tickets to see Madonna in Chicago for her Confessions Tour, but had no taker for the second ticket. At that very moment he opened his wallet and started placing Benjies in my hand. He paid me in cash for the ticket and ended up giving it to his Chicago friend Kat. We sat a few rows in front of Kanye West at the show and became fast friends.
Money will be forked over again tonight though the bills will be smaller. According to bartender Ryan, tonight is Strip Off, an amateur undie competition guest hosted by drag queen Cellulite. Like puddles on pavement, groups of gays are slowly gathering on the dance floor, and most are here to support the one friend in their group brave enough to attempt the contest.
One strapping lad I see is wearing grey workout shorts that expose his visible penis line. “That one isn’t wearing underwear,” I say. Ryan disagrees. “See the straps,” he says as the boy bends over to stretch. “He’s wearing a jock and he’s definitely competing.” (If he is, he’s got my vote.)
“Look at this big gaping hole,” says Cellulite urging the crowd to fill the gap in front of the stage. There are a total of six contestants including a guy in red briefs, another three dudes all wearing jammers, a ripped hunk in a puppy mask, which makes this whole production feel a little “Best in Show,” and the bendy dude in the red jock boast pie Holloing an ample package. He is the clear winner.
I end up meeting a handsome Turkish guy who follows me to my car where we steam up the backseat windows and do things that anywhere else in Texas would get us arrested.
DAY 4
Good things come in strip malls. For brekkie on my final morning, I check out Mary’s Café, a queer-owned counter service spot the owner supposedly named after his mother, but which also pays homage to icons of queer significance named Mary including Tyler Moore, J.Blige, and Poppins among others. The nut bread with fried egg, queso, and avo hits the spot.
Austin Street Art (Photo by Jason A. Heidemann)
Before heading downtown for my e-bike tour I visit Zilker Botanical Gardens, a sloping 28-acre community preserve built on a hillside over looking the city where I’m guided around the gardens by (hunk alert!) out and mustachioed education director Matthew Gaston. Less spectacular than more storied botanical grounds, Zilker is nevertheless lush and leafy (check out the serene Japanese Tea Garden) and worth a visit, especially if you can get a tour from Gaston. At one point, he even plucks and hands me a four-leaf clover, but since I am not yet married to him, alas my wish has yet to come true. (Follow him on Instagram at @MCKGaston).
During my e-bike tour, I pass a sign that says “Y’all means y’all.” In recent years I’ve come to see this queer-friendly slogan on t-shirts, mugs, and more in cities and neighborhoods across Texas and the South. But whereas in most places it feels like an aspiration, here in Austin they mean it and that’s why I love this city.
Austin Resources
HOTELS
Austin Motel • Recently revamped motor lodge with a swimming pool and famous phallic shaped sign. 1220 S Congress Ave. Tel: 512- 441-1157. BunkhouseHotels.com/Austin-Motel
Carpenter Hotel • A hip lodging with cowboy vibes located in a former union hall. 400 Josephine St. Tel: 512-682-5300. BunkhouseHotels.com/Carpenter-Hotel
Hotel San Jose • Iconic Congress Avenue hotel and hangout originally owned and operated by lesbian “queen of cool” Liz Lambert. 1316 S Congress Ave. Tel: 512-852-2350. Bunkhouse Hotels.com/Hotel-San-Jose
An Austin size platter of BBQ meats and sides (Photo by Ant DM)
RESTAURANTS
Bureau de Poste at Tiny Grocer • Lesbian owned French restaurants sitting right in the middle of a boutique grocery store. 4300 Speedway Ste 100. Tel: 512-375-3320. BureauDePosteATX.com
Fukumoto • Gay-owned izakaya and sushi joint near famous 6th Street. 514 Medina St. Tel: 512-770-6880. FukumotoAustin.com
Jo’s Coffee • Centrally located and beloved coffee shop famous for its iconic “I Love You So Much” mural. 1300 S Congress Ave. Tel: 512-852-2300. JosCoffee.com
La Barbecue • Lesbian-owned, counter service barbecue joints featuring long lines on week ends. 2401 E Cesar Chavez Ave. Tel: 512-605- 9696. laBarbecue.com
Lick Honest Ice Cream • Gay-owned arti sanal ice cream shop offering unique flavors like Texas sheet cake and roasted beets with fresh mint. 1100 S Lamar Blvd. Tel: 512-363- 5622. ILikeLick.com
Mary’s Café • Queer-owned, counter service breakfast joint that pays tribute to iconic women named Mary. 3209 Red River St. Tel: 512-334-9460. MarysCafeATX.com
ATTRACTIONS/EVENTS
Austin Public Library • 200,000-square foot-library featuring a rooftop garden. 710 W Cesar Chavez St. Tel: 512-974-7400. Library.AustinTexas.gov
Biker Gang • LGBTQ-friendly e-bike tours around downtown Austin. 506 Walsh St. Tel: 833-988-3999. YourBikerGang.com
Hippie Hollow Park • Legendary nude beach on the shores of Lake Travis featuring a lively gay section. 7000 Comanche Trail. Tel: 512-854- 7275. Parks.TravisCountyTX.gov/Hippie-Hollow
Splash Days • Twice annual queer beach weekend and fundraiser centered around Hip pie Hollow Park, but also including citywide events and parties. SplashDays.com
Zilker Botanical Garden • A 28-acre com munity preserve worth visiting for its Japan ese Tea Garden. 2220 Barton Springs Rd. Tel: 512-477-8672. ZilkerGarden.org
SHOPS
Package Austin • Men’s retailer primarily sell ing skimpy swimsuits, sexy underwear, and gay accessories. 2008 S 1st St. Tel: 512-472-0844. Facebook.com/PackageMenswear
Sir Rat Leather Austin • Leather shop housed in a bungalow and selling jockstraps, harnesses, adult toys and more. 2605 E Cesar Chavez St. Tel: 512-861-5556. SirRatLeather.com
The Little Gay Shop • Queer-owned retail store focused on LGBTQ-themed books, t shirts, souvenirs and more. 1902 E 12th St. Tel: 512-660-5655. TheLittleGayShop.com
