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.

A beautiful, crystal clear 70° morning; light north breeze remained, but gone was yesterday’s humidity and overcast skies. Instead of backtracking two miles on the busy road, Jerry found a pleasant neighborhood that spared us the highway for a few miles.  The bike map had recommended a river trail, but we’d been fooled by the levy road once and that was enough.  The highway traffic was not bad, well, except for this….…. so able to check out something other than the road in front of us; fisherman and the never ending refineries along the Mississippi.Halfway into the ride, we picked up commercial business andtraffic increased.  Then, as we reached the top of an railroad overpass, we were at the airport (practically on top of it).  Traffic was heavy, our shoulder was on and off, but everyone was courteous.  We passed a mixture of ball fields and buildings including the New Orlean Saints training facility.  As always, the exits on to the interstate proved a challenge and an uphill sprint; thankfully it was the weekend, so traffic was light.  As we approached the city, we were happy to have a designated bike path, plus some amazing buildings.

Our two day stay in New Orleans has many purposes.  One to rest, two we had to make up for our last trip here, that did not go so well, but the best reason was to reconnect with old friends.  We had made a point to get here in time to catch Kurt before he headed home, but Thomas and Angie was a last minute surprise.  Thomas (whom we had not seen since 1995) took us to a place we would have never found or even considered going to.  A cool and quirky backyard bar with live jazz, fabulous wine and amazing cheese trays.  We spent several bottles of wine there then moved on to a delicious dinner in another part of town; thank goodness we were not driving.  It was a good afternoon/evening with great friends; one we will not soon forget.

Guilty,

like many others, to think that New Orleans is only about the French Quarter. Naturally, if you are coming here for the first time it is a must and had it not been for our brief introduction last night, we would have not ventured from the famous French Quarter.

After an amazing breakfast, smoked salmon bennie, served on a homemade biscuit, we jumped the trolley car, not unlike the ones in San Francisco, and headed for the Garden District.  The homes here are elegant and quite large, the majority of the space reaching deep into the home with a narrow street presence.  One of the most famous is the Buckner Mansion, 20,000 of haunted square feet and featured in “American Horror Story”.  Scattered among the homes were churches of all sizes and trees that grow from large to immense.  There is also the Lafayette Cemetery, striking in it’s size and sad in so many ways.

Back in the French Quarter, we revisited a “hot spot” from our last trip and a new stop for an iced coffee and beingnet.  Could not get a picture, before the three of us jumped in on the pile of sugar that doubles as a French pastry.  With several hours on our legs, we needed to rest.  A quick goodbye to Kurt, a few more tourist pictures before retiring to our awesome hotel (originally the Franklin Printing Company), just in time for their “Taste of New Orleans”, featuring some mighty good jambalaya!  More than full from a fabulous day packed with food, we ventured out for a light dinner, which include a very delicious (and sizable) helping of down-home cookin’ bread pudding.  We Must Bike, tomorrow!

After a quick breakfast of muffins and coffee, we were out of the door just before seven.  With a long ride ahead and the temps supposed to get toasty, we wanted an early start.  The morning was still a comfortable 70°, but a bit humid.  Between the early start and heading against commuter traffic, the wiggle out of the largest city in the state was fairly easy, colorful and new sights, enjoyable.  One last goodbye to Satchmo and the city of New Orleans.

Thirteen miles later we were crossing the Inner Harbor Navigation Channel that connects Lake Pontchartrain and the Mississippi River.  Less than a mile later, we lost most of the traffic to the interstate.These shrines/temples seemed very out of place in the middle of nowhere.  Eighteen miles from the center of the city, we crossed part of “The Great Wall of New Orleans”, built after Hurricane Katrina in 2005, totally encircling New Orleans from the water.

After passing Textron, a manufacturer for military support vehicles, we were in the middle of the bayou, aka: nowhere.  A small neighborhood appeared with large homes backing up to deep canals, this too, seemed out of place in the middle of the bayou, but had a very romantic name – Venetian Isles.

We pedaled through a stretch of vacation homes bordering Lake Ponchartrain and Lake Saint Catherine; the house names as interesting as the houses.

Our blistering 12 mph pace was no match for the tenacious horseflies.  You could almost hear them laughing at our defenselessness as they swarmed our heads and bodies.  The morning was getting hot, the horseflies were driving us crazy, we were getting cranky and the morning muffin’s energy had worn off.  Thankfully, all we had to do is cross this bridge, past Fort Pike and end up at a bait and tackle shop on the other side.  The shop had the best prepackaged sandwich we’ve ever had and the proprietor, Shanna, gave us a remedy for the relentless flies….jungle strength bug spray!

After her shop, the road narrowed and every joint in the road was a jolt to our duckies; one last road insult.

Exactly four hours of riding, we crossed the East Pearl River and were in Mississippi.  Looking forward to hopefully better roads and finding them, complete with shade.  It was a pretty ride with very little traffic and only the occasional gust of breeze in our face, but the heat was wearing us down.

Shortly after one and on the edge of town, we stopped for something cold to drink (milkshake and sandwich) and a break from the now 92° (shade) 105° (sun) heat; thankfully the humidity was gone.   We had pumped out 62 miles in five and a half hours and our legs (and bodies) were struggling against this first real day of heat.  The thirty minute break was just what we needed for the last three miles.  For dinner, we had scouted out a German/Italian restaurant, but neglected to check if they were open; unfortunately not.  The second choice of Mexican was tremendously anticlimactic, so much so, we could not even take a picture.  But we’ve crossed into another state, better roads and hopefully a cooler day, tomorrow.