No wonder we all wear dark sunglasses. We're all scanning the crowd. That tan 40-year-old man in the red banana-hammock riding his 10-speed or the European topless crowd toward the back or even the class-skipping share, looking for a solar cure for last night's dorm-room tequila. Barton Springs' true scenery is the people. Keep your eyes on the swimsuit-clad masses in search of the way to jump in without losing your breath to the brrr.
