Low humidity, 60°, no wind and brilliantly sunny; perfect for a Sunday morning ride.

One would think with two huge oil refineries and Lamar University that someone would be stirring at 8:00 in the morning, but the roads were empty.  It took us about eight miles to get through town; then a long straight road offering basically nothing in scenery except for oil refineries in the distance.  Rice production was the largest industry in the 19th century, until the “Spindletop” oil gusher in 1901, the town’s population tripled in two months.  Both still thrive in the area, but the refineries dominated this road.  Two hours into our ride, we stopped for a biscuit break.  Shortly before 11:00, we approached a two mile, very tall bridge over the Neches River.  Thankfully, we had the newer of the two bridges,so not quite as tall as the southbound bridge, but tall enough.  The view of Sabine Lake and then further to the Gulf, was serene.  Other than this view, our entertainment was counting the various number of paved road surfaces we traversed; can’t imagine having missed any.

A few supply stops (beer & wine) on the way to the hotel and we were checked in by 1:00.  Staying close to the interstate and far away from everything, required pizza delivery with our (previously purchased) bottle of wine.  It wasn’t fancy, but a nice finish to a comfortable 40 mile day.

We had a two mile loop in the midst of construction to rejoin our course.  Trains waited on the outskirts of town to be called in to load and firework stations, waiting for the holidays, lined the road.

Outside of town, we enjoyed a wide shoulder and nice shade.  Traffic was not constant, but loud when the trucks and traffic barreled by.

Forecast was for a southeast wind to pick up during the day; naturally our first 13 miles was north, before the wind began.  An hour into our ride, we turned east onto a quiet road and felt the wind begin to rustle.  Shortly thereafter, we crossed the very flooded Sabine River into Louisiana.  We learned later, that this is a controlled flood of the river, but these two counties take the brunt of it; sometimes not able to drive the streets for the high water.

We were surprised to run across another touring biker, Jorg, from Canada.  He was doing a large loop from Jacksonville, Florida back to Cape May, NJ where he now resides.

One turn and we went from quiet to quieter.There was no shoulder on this road but there were no cars either, so we had it to ourselves, rice fields on either side.  We could hear a light rumble in the distance, and were surprised to see a plane on the side of the road.  Apparently, they had just finished loading his crop dusting fertilizer, as he took off right beside us as we pedaled down the road.  The country road was pretty, but the wind was tough and the swirling gusts punishing.  The protective tree lined road was replaced with farms and country homes. After 43 miles we came to our first opportunity for fuel and rest.  We were hoping the little gas station would have a cafe or deli and an area to sit, but our choice was limited to packaged foods.  We stood inside the air conditioning and ate our prepackaged sandwich and muffin and pushed on twenty minutes later.  Within minutes our swirling wind was further enhanced by dust from the construction of a massive refinery.  This is the closest we have been to one and it seemed to stretch on forever.  Once completed, it will cover over 3,000 acres.

We enjoyed an all too short five mile stretch with a tail wind, relaxing as we sailed along the road.  The smiles left our faces as soon as we took the east turn into the unrelenting wind.  Stopped every few miles, just for a break.

We limped into our hotel at 3:00 after 62 miles and almost six hours in the saddle.  The only restaurant near our hotel was a Mexican restaurant and it looked like a dive.  Having already had take-out the night before, we decided it could not be avoided.  The inside was small and had the same ambiance as the outside, but the food was amazing.  This huge vat of avocado topped Fajitas included a huge poblano and cactus leaf, most delicious and well worth it!

First thought: What a Gorgeous Morning, soft blue sky accentuated with delicate clouds.

Second thought: One of these days we will have the wind to our backs, but this is not that day.

We had a one mile trek to our frontage road that was far removed from the highway.  Fields were pleasant, but we preferred the protection the trees and homes offered from the wind.  Small industry and farms existed side by side. Passing a graveyard, reminded us of the high water table in these parts; everybody is above ground.

We enjoyed almost 15 miles of scenery before our road bordered the highway.Pasturesand rice fields offered no resistance to the southeast wind.  Both Iowa

and this waterslide seemed out of place.

We had not planned to stop for lunch, but we needed a break from the wind and time off the bike.  After our relaxing forty-five minute break, we savored our pedal through town.This little pigmy goat definitely did not want his picture taken.A mile and a half later, we were thrust into the wind again.  We did our best to maintain 7 mph against the southeast wind.  It took us almost an hour and a half to go our last eleven miles.

Dinner choices were Shoney’s across the busy road or the truck stop diner next door (who said we do not live high on the hog), complete with a full size alligator.  We choose well.  Our 38 miles doesn’t sound long, but four hours in the saddle against the wind was long enough to be tired.

A nice sunset, then to bed.

We left two hours earlier (7:15) and it was already 10° warmer (73°), overcast and humid; wind ever present. This morning we rode along highway 90, which we imagine was the main east west route before the interstate was built just to the north.  Too much time and not enough traffic had passed to keep business going.  The dilapidated buildings and trees helped to shield the wind, but it always found us when the fields opened up.  We had a slow pedal through Crowley, the Rice Capital of America, enjoying the wind break.

Our six mile ride between this town and the next was miserable.  Not only had we lost our protective line of trees, but the roads were the worst we’d encountered; it was insult added to injury.  We did manage to see these “guard donkeys” and this disturbingly green pond.  Entering the town of Rayne, The Frog Capital of the World, all was forgotten; frogs were everywhere……who knew?!

Once out of town, the wind once again found and hit us hard.  Shortly after 11:00, we dropped into a gas station for a break from the wind.  Since they had a sandwich shop and a place to sit, we opted for an early lunch.  Manuel Robin and T.B Morvent were on us like white on rice!  Seriously, they were so much fun, though understanding their super thick cajun accents took some effort.  Apparently, the town we would be staying in tonight is hosting a huge crawfish festival this weekend.  They then proceeded to tell us all the ways you can eat crawfish….and cajun food, “well, you just better get ready.”  After an hour of great entertainment, we said our goodbyes and continued on.

Traffic had picked up, road conditions went from good to poor and the wind did not let up.  We plugged along for 12 miles, not having much space to look around. Although, we now know these are former rice fields, flooded to capture crawfish.

We slowly struggled through a depressed area of Lafayette and then a slight northeast turn and all was right with the world, we had a tailwind for our last two miles.  Finally checked in after five and a half hours in the saddle.

Our buddies at lunch insisted we try all the local food had to offer and the best place to do that was the town we were staying in.  We started with a sampler of crawfish, catfish, shrimp and gator,  plus a couple steamers to try.Then a small plate of Louisiana Boudin and finished with steamed Gulf shrimp.  It was an appropriately stuffed finish to an almost 58 mile day.

Another 7:15 start this morning, but the 70° temperature felt much cooler than yesterday, low humidity and a light breeze out of the south east, helped.  Our back road out of town passed small homes and pretty farms.  Nine miles into our ride we reached Henderson and the north turn (into Atchafalaya National Heritage Area), we had been looking forward to ever since encountering the south wind, days/weeks ago.  We were almost giddy with the idea of a tailwind on this long northbound stretch along the levy.  A quick jaunt to the top of the levy, to see if we were missing anything and then we were off.  Just as were settling into the saddle, ready to enjoy smooth sailing, we hit dirt, and not pay dirt, our pavement had only lasted two miles!

We bumped along the gravel road, struggling to stay upright.  A couple times we had to dismount to walk our bikes, pedaling just too treacherous.  It was such a waste of a quiet and scenic route.  Just as we thought things could not get any worse, not this, this……we had come too far to turn back now, but to play it safe we walked our bikes to the top of the levy.  Our rocky, terribly rough road, was slow with several cattle guards thrown in for an extra rattle.  Angry looking bulls with sharp horns did not even phase us.  After almost 20 miles, “vacation homes” appeared along the Bayou Courtableau Outlet Channel, we hoped it was a sign of true civilization, or at least a paved road.

Duckies had never been happier to turn into the wind along a busy highway.  Five miles later, we dropped into the town of Krotz Sprngs for lunch.  The shaded streets felt like air conditioning, but there was no food to be found.  One pedal stroke from rejoining our highway, we found a place to stop for lunch.  We would need our rest and fuel to get over this next bridge.But the owner of the cafe, insisted we not proceed via bike.  The bridge ahead of us was not the problem, but the following four mile stretch over the bayou offered no shoulder.  An hour of rest and ready to go, we politely declined her offer.  She chased us out of her cafe and insisted we load the duckies in her truck; there was no saying no.  The bridge was worse than we thought, absolutely NO shoulder and the lanes were unusually narrow; we were happy Claudette saved us from what would have been a big mistake.

Once back on the road, even pedaling the shoulder seemed too close to the traffic.  Forty five miles later we pulled into our stop for the day.  It took 15 minutes to determine the room they had booked for us, did not exist.  A mile later we checked into the next hotel, newer and more comfortable, but internet was almost non-existent.  Dinner would not be much better!  A short walk away was the only place for food.  Equipped with a bottle of wine (in a plastic cup) we “enjoyed” (with plastic fork and knife) Salisbury Steak for dinner.  When you are hungry and tired, everything is good!  It was only a 43 mile ride today (shorter tomorrow), but it had beaten us up.  We will make up for this, soon!

Two steps from our hotel and we were on the highway on a cool (70°) and foggy morning.  With no wind in our face, pedaling was easy and rhythmical; the traffic pulling us along.  As the amount of  tractor trailers and traffic in general increased, so did the grip on our bikes.  Not much to see, but we had our eyes glued to the shoulder trying to avoid glass and road wire that always accompanies heavily trafficked roads.  The noise of the now continuous traffic was almost deafening.

Just before this narrow bridge and our steep assent over the Mississippi, most of the traffic thankfully turned off to join the interstate.  Knowing there was no shoulder on the bridges, we were happy the competition for driving space was minimized.  Drivers we did encounter were very polite, not only moving over a lane, but driving past us at school zone speed.  We were surprised to see a Baton Rouge skyline filled with industry.  Once on the other side of the Mississippi bridge, roads were dreadful, shoulders virtually nonexistent.  We were happy to rest when waved down by a driver.  “Don’t even think about stopping in the next five miles,” he said.  The area seemed harmless enough, an enormous refinery on one side and spacious parks on the other.  But, when we heard a siren blast behind us, we could not wait to get out of the way; instead we got pulled over.  Apparently, our picture taking of the Exxon plant was concerning.  Once it was determined we were not a threat, Officers Van (Homeland Security) and Barry (Sheriff) were wonderful and apologetic. (last names withheld).  Seriously, us threatening?!?  No harm, a good laugh, plus directions to our hotel.

Once again we found a road in desperate need of repair or under repair; very tough to tell.

We thought the “River Road” would be scenic, but it just proved to beat us up, gaps in the pavement threatening to swallow our bikes.  Once downtown, a turn into the city dropped us into the middle of set up for the Crawfish Festival (they really cannot get enough of crawfish in these parts).  Three block and 33 miles later, we found our hotel; happy not to be too far away when the party started later.

We could not have picked a better location, even if we knew what we were doing.  Charming streets, The Old Post Office (built in 1894, then became the state capital in 1935), The (other) Old State Capitol, the Science Museum, The USS Kitts, plus several veteran memorials including Lieutenant General John Archer Lejeune and of course, the Mississippi River.

Tonight in downtown Baton Rouge was “Live at Five” (happens only five times a year) and the once a year “Crawfish Festival” – all you can eat; shame that we are not big crawfish fans.  But there were plenty people that came for the food and festivities.  The place was packed and everyone seemed to be enjoying the entertainment.

We elected to find a place to sit for a drink, a quite authentic Irish bar, except for our bartender, R2D2, “May the 4th be with you” (get it?), yes, she actually said it! After happy hour, we walked around the corner for a delicious yet totally nontraditional (for this area) Mediterranean dinner.  Served with plastic, like all the vendors outside, but we got to sit and the food could not be beat……especially the Baklava.

A humid but comfortable 70°, as we pedaled away from the state capitol of Louisiana and home of LSU.  A last minute change in the road out of town, offered tree lined streets, large expensive homes and small painstakingly reconditioned homes.  Could not take pictures quick enough to capture the essence of the wonderful neighborhoods we were going through.  The further we moved from the city, the larger the homes became….…seriously larger.

An hour and a half later, we joined our original route; it had been a delightful 17 miles.  Surprised how many people were on the roads on a Saturday morning; but the busy road was not without it’s benefit.  A light (6 – 10 mph) northwest breeze caught our backs and helped our ride along the rough shoulder.  Shortly before ten, the skies darkened and the wind began to swirl around us.  A rain shower went through so fast, we didn’t even get wet, but stopped anyway for a twenty minute refreshment break.  It was a good choice, since we would not see civilization for another 25 miles.  The traffic disappeared, as the road narrowed and the shoulder became too rough to ride.  Out on the road, we were cruising with the wind at our backs, covering 40 miles in three hours.  For once, we were on the right side of the construction, naturally, it did not last nearly long enough.  Even with the light breeze at our back, we were wearing down.  A turn in the road our last 15 miles put the wind at our shoulder, slowing us down and making us work to get to our hotel.  Thankfully, the temperature never reached 80° and the sun stayed away, so heat was not a factor.  All the motels in this town, were two miles from any restaurant, the Kentucky Derby was on and we were tired after 63 miles, pizza delivery was the perfect call.  It was a good day, but it will be an early night.