The Boys walking the Presidio Trail from our parking place in front of The Fox Theater to the Heritage Park.
Arriving. Some of those people in the background are real, but most of them are painted on a mural.
Volunteer garrison soldiers keeping watch.
A volunteer infrantry soldier shows us how to load a musket.
Dancing with abandon around el horno.
This gentleman wore his great grandfather's officer's uniform.
He let us hold his sword. This was, of course, the highlight of Evan's afternoon.
I tell you, they're lucky heads didn't roll.
This kind woman showed us how to separate the seeds from cotton bolls. The woman in the flat black hat spun cotton into thread with a spindle. It was fascinating.
Third time's the charm: this poor fellow's musket misfired twice before he finally got it to crack.
Priming the big brass cannon. The soldier with the musket kept us back while the soldier with the handlebar mustache explained the whole process to us. The guy issuing the orders had to read them from a laminated page. Everything was in Spanish.
The cannon made a tremondous noise and recoiled a foot or two. Evan loved it, but Jack got smoke in his eyes and freaked out.
Looks like a rotton avocado, no? But it's not. It's a cocoa pod. That's where chocolate comes from. Unbelievable.
Jack took this one. He's got an exquisite eye and flawless timing.
When the Living History demonstration ended, we were enticed by drumbeats to attend the free performance across the street. Because we got there in the middle I never did figure out what heritage they're preserving... but they sure were fun to watch. Bright feathered headresses, breastplates, shells and bells around their ankles. The dude would put his foot in the flame issuing from a small chimenea, then dance around some more, accompanied by a drummer and a pan pipe. Incan? Mayan? I don't know. Funyan.
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