Some places visited in 2006 got edited out – unfairly, really – from Summer Series stories.

So, here are four places that made an impression and deserve a bit of ink.

(And two more were omitted here: the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo and Buescher State Park. The latter was completely abandoned – of humans and park workers – one hot summer’s day. The drive between Buescher and Bastrop State Park on Park Road 1C – through the "Lost Pines" – is terrific for cars or bikes and is filled with wildlife.)

But here are four worthy of noting.

Before motoring here, we tried to stop at Kickapoo Cavern State Park; then we could view two bat flights consecutively.

But, Kickapoo was locked up tight; we didn’t get in.

Fortunately, we arrived at downtown Rocksprings just in time to board the Bat Bus. For $12 a head, you get toted out to the Devil’s Sinkhole State Natural Area for a major bat flight.

Along the way, volunteers tell you the tale of how Rocksprings was once devastated by a tornado, with church bells blown into the desert.

You must take the bus to the Sinkhole; the access point from the highway is unmarked and moseys through private property before reaching state land.

Along the way, curious exotic animals bound about. Another volunteer-offered fact: Local ranchers are abandoning their generations-old practice of ranching and instead raising exotics for hunters to shoot.

The Sinkhole recently received a chunk of money when a Toyota commercial was filmed there. The cash was used to build a platform that extends over the hole.

And it’s deep: After a 140-foot vertical drop – watch a white basketball disappear when lowered down – the main cavern is circular and as deep as 400 feet.

That’s where millions of bats, mostly Brazilian free-tails, live. And they begin pouring out – sometimes near dark, but we enjoyed the good fortune of an early exit – winging southeast to go feast on tons of bugs nightly.

It can smell a little funky – winging whips up guano odors – but the platform offers a great spot for up-close viewing.

You can sit on nearby benches away from the main flight if you are leery of a bat flying into your hair – which we were told almost never happens. Right then one ricocheted off a lady’s head.

Most spiral out, flying one direction, southeast; those that exit the opposite way are a different species.

Hurricane Rita ravaged more than just coastal areas.

Much of the Big Thicket – a gigantic, protected preserve where three major ecosystems converge: eastern hardwood forests, Gulf coastal plains, and midwest prairies – got drilled by Rita.

Thousands of trees were uprooted and they’ve been left where they fell for the most part. A very steamy hike along the 1.7 miles of the Kirby Nature Trail System was educational.

Trees were ripped up literally by the roots, toppled over and taking smaller growths with them. The massive root systems are mostly untouched. The only trees cut were to clear the trail.

Once, a shady tree canopy sheltered Kirby walkers. Today, the sun burns through gaping open holes, making the hike a hot one.

We spied small frogs and spiders galore. Birds flitted around and turtles floated in the primordial waters – all streams and standing waters were grody –next to ancient bald cypresses.

Sane people wanting to stay in air-conditioned vehicles can take car tours of the preserve. And canoers know the Big Thicket offers exceptional opportunities.

The Preserve Visitors Center withstood Rita’s attack. In fact, it was used as a command post for many days.

The Big Thicket is monstrous, cut up into nine land areas and six waterways; the first national park preserve ever created (in 1974); it covers over 97,000 acres.

Way out in the middle of nowhere – almost to Mexico and off the "green" (vegetative) Hill Country portion of the Texas map – is the town of Brackettville.

And, unless you haven’t been paying attention (which is impossible since the signs are every 10 feet on every roadway down there), you know you’re near Alamo Village.

We were ready to ridicule this wayward outpost, but it ended up being surprisingly fun.

You pay $9.75 a head and drive a couple of miles along the dirt road of a working ranch.

You see the fake Alamo first but drive past 300 yards past it to the Village.

The entire town is a movie set and plenty of films have been made there, the most famous being Bandolero! And, of course, John Wayne’s Alamo in 1959.

Old West characters sing songs and tell tales and spout cowboy poetry in a saloon – where you can buy something to drink and eat but there’s no air-conditioning – then there’s a comic shootout staged on main street.

A couple of kids were among the 20 of us there on the scorching day. I wondered if the 10-year-old boys would think this cowboy stuff was dumb. But they were enthralled, clapping and laughing and reveling in the bona fide "Texas" experience.

I walked down the dusty frontier dirt street – okay, toward the bathrooms that were all the way at the end of the Village – and, under the broiling sun, a super hot wind gusted from Mexico. You could not have asked for a more Old West moment. I smiled – and ate some dust.

There’s a John Wayne museum in the Village and several buildings to investigate – including the jail cell (which you can enter) that housed Dean Martin in Bandolero!

Up at the fake Alamo, we were the only ones there. The reproduction is not just a facade. It’s a building that you can also crawl around in and behind.

Alamo Village is a freakish throwback to the way "theme parks" used to be. It was cool.

Just past Hunt, Texas, a couple of guys constructed a two-thirds size replica of Stonehenge, that mysterious rock formation in England. It’s right off the roadway and an easy, flat walk to the middle of a Hill Country field.

There’s no reason to reproduce Stonehenge in a Texas pasture, but that’s what makes it so unique.

There’s not much to do there, just wander around. You can fake a sacrifice on the altar in the middle or walk out to the looming idols and mock them.

There’s little protection from the elements. If it’s windy or hot or cold, you’ll feel it; the towering limestone rises nearby offer no protection. So, you get out, look at it, wander around it, then go get a hamburger in Hunt.