Riding to Bogalusa, Louisiana

I rode by myself today. A first. A good thing to do. I like riding with the other three. But today we passed a Wildlife Park and I wanted to go in. The others didn't. So we parted.

As it turned out, the Wildlife Park's tours were completely booked. Masses of school children filled every possible seat in the cars and so the three of us who had wanted to try to get a better look at the animals were foiled. From a distance it was possible to see Llamas and Emus and Camels and odd deer of the African Veldt variety. (Elands, Dik Diks, exotic things, all.) And it was also possible to see the tractor-pulled cars loaded with screaming kids all tossing pellets of exotic animal feed at the Reindeer and the Antelopes and the Bison.

I'm glad the tour was full.

By the time the three of us who were trying to get on a tour were escorted out of the park (the animals all run free and the people are all confined to cars - and bicycles are not allowed unless tucked into a car or truck) the other three I usually ride with had moved on. Which left me riding with Nancy and Carol for a short time, but I ride faster than they do so I ended up passing them and riding on alone.

The countryside is beautiful here today. It's very green. They had rain recently, probably on that tornado day. All the rivers are above their banks, the water, swirls of mud and sticks. Leaves are fully out now and the roads, country lanes for the most part, were lined with buttercups and clover and verbena and some odd little white thing that I've never seen before.

And riding alone was a new experience. No one to rely on for the turns. No one to share the lead. No one to rest behind. No one, for that matter, to inconvenience. No one cared if I stopped to put on my sweater or stopped to take it off. I did both a few times just for the novelty of it. And, no surprise, there was no one to exclaim to, to sing to, to chortle with, to become annoyed by. No one to get to share the day with. No one to have to share it with either.

This, as I said, is our last day in Louisiana. I'm starting to think about going home, about returning to my life. I'm starting to wonder about it all, about the important things, the simple things, the conclusions, the things I want to have forever and the things I want to forget (there's not much in that category.)

This trip has been and continues to be a life-changer. But to what? For what? I guess that is something I can't know yet. As I figure it out, well, you know what will happen by now, don't you?

In the meantime, I'll be in touch tomorrow. From Mississippi.

YUM!!

Oh yesterday was a fine one. A fine one indeed.

I had company and St. Francisville was the perfect host spot. We stayed in an old b+b (the norm in this lovely little town), walked around v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, drank a cup of coffee that lasted for an hour or so, walked a little bit more, visited with biker gals we saw, all of whom were walking at our pace or riding around, slowly.

Of of the many highlights of the day was lunch. Lunch at an Exxon station. My first experience of this sort. But we wanted to eat some crawfish and this, we were told, was the place to do so. We ordered a pound and the fellow tossed them into a paper bag which he nested in a plastic bag.

"These take sauce?" I asked.

"'s on it already," he said.

Annie went and got us a couple of Coronas and we sat at the only table on that side of the Exxon Station and opened up our bag. Annie had a swiss army knife so that took care of the beers.

"Know how to eat those?" a cowboy-looking guy drawled.

I knew but it seemed like a good conversation so I suggested he show us, and anyway, Annie had never had them and there's nothing like advice from someone who is offering it.

"Break off the tail," he demonstrated, "take off this top shell, grab the meat and eat it. And then you suck the head."

Okay.

That, in a few words, was lunch. Extraordinarily delicious. Very fun. And highly entertaining too. The heads are particularly flavorful. By the way.

Turns out the cowboy IS a cowboy, a performer from Oklahoma who was in town to perform at the Angola Prison Rodeo. He has trained longhorns that jump up on a flatbed truck. Sort of like the Royal Lippizaner Stallions. But a little bit different.

More walking. Visit to the place where Audobon painted some pictures. He was only there for 3 months but did 80 paintings. Whewf! We sat in the barnyard and watched ducks run around. Never went into the mansion. It was pretty nice outside and neither of us was interested in furniture.

Dinner, out, was good too. Gumbo, Grilled Peaches, Crawfish Etouffee.

Yum.

Today, just now, I rode 88 miles. Seemed like nothing.
A day off is good.
A visit from a gal who loves food and wandering and going very slowly as much as I do is a fine thing too.

And lunch at an Exxon station and advice from a cowboy, well, sometimes that can be the culinary highlight of a day off. This was.

I'll tell you some more things tomorrow.
For now - ciao,
Laurey

A day off

I'm in St. Francisville, Louisiana.

Sorry about not writing last night. Long day. Lots of miles, beautiful, but plentiful.

Now I'm on vacation for a day.
This will be short because there are things to do , boudin and crawfish to sample, antebellum mansions to visit, including the one where Audobon painted many of his Birds of America series.

Here I am crossing the Mississippi.

Life is good.
I'll be in touch tomorrow.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Stopped by a tornado

Nope. I did not ride all the miles today. Connie and I started out at 7:30. Skies were grey. Ominous looking. Winds were strong. And they got stronger. We rode. We rode a lot. And the winds got stronger and stronger. The ride, 83 miles, at one point seemed impossible to me. The wind was so strong that we were pedaling in place. It was not fun. It seemed grueling. And we kept it up.

Connie boosted me. I, her. Sherry had left much earlier, wanting to skip ahead of the storms. Connie and I ate breakfast and then left.

And the winds got stronger as we went.

We made it to mile 43 and I thought we had it. We had managed to figure it out, to find ways to pedal hard during the blasts, to work with the wind when we could.

We made it to mile 56 and I thought we had it. Less than 30 to go. Completely doable. But we stopped for a break and I noticed the tv with a weather warning. A Tornado warning. And that was it.

I do not want to be picked up by a tornado. I don't know how these things work, but I do know that I did not want to experience my first one on my bicycle. So we decided to stop. And then we helped collect all the other folks who were still out on the road. By that time the skies were filled with lightening and thunder and the winds were roaring and I was glad to be in the van even though it meant we did not ride all the miles today.

20 miles missed.
But, on the other hand, we're alive. Not flying somewhere out of control.

Sherry made it and so did two others.
Connie and I missed the 20 miles.
But not really.

I'll be in touch tomorrow.

(Oh, this picture is of me and Ann, one of the riders/SAG drivers. She gave me some road-find beads. And they match my teal toenails. NICE!)

Bye bye Texas

Well, Louisiana did not have a "Welcome to Louisiana" sign and, when we first rode into Texas THEY didn't have a sign either. So, um, this is today's Goodbye to Texas snap. And the photo of the road sign of Louisiana with a number of it (the route) didn't seem very dramatic, so here you go.

We are not in Texas any more. And the introduction to LA hasn't exactly been stellar, but a day is a day and that's what happens. Texas, lord love it, finished itself out with some smooth roads, not the dreaded Chip Seal. We all scream "BUTTER!!!" when we leave chip seal and start riding on smooth concrete. And of course, today's Texas finale was almost ALL smooth as butter concrete. AND someone had cleaned all the roadsides in Texas and there was no litter and all the drivers were nice and, well, I almost hated to leave.

And then, immediately, Louisiana's roads were awful. Chunky, sloppy, littered. Yuck. But, what can you do. A day is a day and a road is a road and, as we see, that's what happens. So it goes. So it goes.

We ARE in Bayou country now. We've seen our first mangrove swamp. Our first airboat. Our first pile of mud that looks like someone has been making little sand castles - and they, as it turns out, are breathing holes for crawfish. Who knew?

We have now ridden over the first round of bridges. We've smelled the first salty air, felt the first humidity. More firsts await.

I've stopped trying to predict any of this. No worrying about rain or lightening or things that are, truly, out of my hands. My job, my choice right now, is to get up, get on my bike, and ride. Every day. As many miles as I can. I think about those who can't and that makes me forget about the multiple bruises I now sport. I think, today, about Shayla, a little brave girl at Jubilee. She's battling neuroblastoma, whatever the heck that is. She's four. How can that be possible? In a few days she will go to have a bone marrow transplant. Her mother tells me I am an inspiration. And I say that Shayla is. The pictures of her are heartbreaking. The sweetest smile, the purest rays of love pour out of her.

So I ride. Today, for Shayla.

Today for love.
Today for hope.
Today.

Tomorrow is Easter. And though that whole story was not part of what I grew up with, I believe that there is reason, always, to be moved by mystery and so, in that spirit, I share this ride with you too. Think of Shayla on the 20th.

Hot times in Texas

I figured out how to use the ethernet connection!! This was lunchtime at Mama Jack's restaurant today. 9 miles from the day's destination in Silsbee. Yee Ha! It's hot. Deep Soputh here we come.

Silsbee, Texas

Well, there is  no wireless internet connection here that I can find and the ethernet cable does not connect to my computer, at least in any way I can figure out.  So my roommate has loaned me her Apple and I'm going to write a note to you on it - but that means no pictures.  It was a kind of a slow photo day anyway.  I'd taken a picture of some Texas things but nothing dramatic or so compelling that I feel horrible about not being able to show them to you.

And, considering the drama of yesterday, it was kind of an uneventful day today all around, which, frankly, was just fine with me, thank you very much.  I woke up stiff and aching and bruised and if I'd been home I might have just said, "how 'bout we take it EASY today" but I'm not home and taking it easy, by laying around, is not an option.  We have a mobile life here and if I didn't ride I'd still have to pack, ride - in a van - unpack.  Riding seemed the better option.

And riding was fine.  63 miles.  Easy.  Flat or really easy rises and falls.  1 degree climbs. Compared the the 18 degree combs of our recent days, today might as well have been flat.

Fine by me. Just fine.

So it's not really a "rest day" but I'm resting, doing my laundry, mailing things back home, things like my heavy fleece and my down jacket.  It's in the 80s here and I think I'm done with those extra warm layers.

And it is early enough that a nap is an option and that sounds pretty good to me.

Cheers to you all.  And thank you for your notes.  I really am fine.

Oh - we rode by a small church today with one of those changeable signs out front.  It said, "Never pass up an opportunity to say I love you."  Nice, yes?  Keep that in mind.  Life is a fragile and important thing.  Don't forget.