My first thought was: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I’ve never even seen the movie, but that was the prevailing, somewhat unsettling feeling I got as I approached Waco Surf (née BSR Cable Park). Middle of nowhere. Creepy old shacks dotting vast Texas wilderness. The occasional overalls-wearing, tobacco-chewing farmhand side-eying us city folk as we kicked up dust in a flashy green Audi.