Florida Ride - Day Two

Florida Ride - Day Two

One of the reasons I chose US 190 for my primary route was that it had a wide shoulder with a protective "rumble" strip most of the way.

"Most" being the operative word.  Some had a "chipseal" overlay, making them very rough.

What I didn't consider was the general lack of variety in the scenery along the route or the massive amount of road-kill (turtles, racoons, opossums, dogs, cats, etc.) 










The scattered small towns along the way provided the change of scenery we were looking for.

Much of that variety underscored the poverty and general lack of care or upkeep in their properties.

The sign on this abandoned store raised the question in my mind, which came first: the deteriorated and abandoned building, or the lack of customers, in a seemingly dying town? 

The sign advertises Boudin, Sausage, Cracklin, and Smoked Meats.  Being in the heart of Cajun country, there didn't seem to be a lack of demand for these items.  

I couldn't help capturing this picture, in Elton, La. (Home of the Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana). 

The water tank seemed a bit small, but then so did the jail, until I found out that Elton only has a population of about 1,100 souls. 

Perhaps the jail is used mostly on Saturday nights, as it doesn't appear to have any facilities for long-term residents.

 

Someone in the Coushatta country takes pride in their community.   

This one one of the best seasonal displays we saw on our entire trip.

As mentioned previously, we spent much of our excursion on US 190 East.  This section of the highway is also known as the Acadiana Trail, and dissects a 22-Parish area known as the French Triangle of Louisiana.  

This bit of information highlights one of Diane's primary interests during our joint venture -- researching the local lore and customs.


  

Because of our general interest in above ground burials, I captured a picture of this small cemetery next to a Baptist Church in Basile, La.

Burial plots are shallow in this area because the water table is very high.  Dig a few feet down, and the grave becomes soggy, filling with water.  The casket will literally float. 

Diane and I met up for a few minutes in Eunice, La.  We found this Catholic church that had an almost park-like setting.  I found a bench to stretch out on. 

After several minutes the church doors opened and a slew of children emerged.  A church official approached me and asked what I was doing.  Apparently they were in the middle of mid-day Mass for the school when we arrived.

We didn't need a sign to tell us that we were in the middle of "something," we just didn't know that it was called the Atchafalaya Basin.

All around us, on both sides of the highway, were swamps.  The Atchafalaya Basin is the nation's largest river swamp, containing almost one million acres of America's most significant bottomland hardwoods, swamps, bayous, and backwater lakes.

In part, the making of the Basin was the result of efforts to control the ever-changing course of the Mississippi River, through a series of up-stream levies.

Our plan was to stop in Opelousas for lunch.  We had heard of Opelousas and thought that it would make a nice place to spread out and rest.  I was looking forward to a break -- they even had a public restroom. 

Diane found a nice picnic table under a large Live Oak tree; she had everything spread out and began to prepare our lunch, when the visitors arrived.  Mosquitoes!  Inter-bred for decades in the swamps until they've become aggressive animals.

We finally packed everything up and ate our lunch in the safety of the car.

From Opelousas, I continued to ride toward Krotz Springs, where I was to cross the bridge over the Atchafalaya River.   

Diane had been driving ahead advised me not to continue over the Atchafalaya bridge.

(The sign for the roadside store is advertising: Boudin, Cracklins, Cajun Meats, Beer and Ice.) 

Even though the bridge over the Atchafalaya River seemed to have a wide shoulder to ride on, the causeway on the other side of the bridge extended for about 4 miles, with no shoulder and no way to get off. 

Diane picked me up and we drove the rest of the way to Livonia, where we stayed that night. 

There were three places that we were directed to for dinner when we inquired.  One was a store associated with a filling station; another told us that it would take them an hour or so to fire up their grill; and the last wanted $30 each for fresh seafood (Catfish).

We decided to make sandwiches in our motel room.

Takeaways: 

The newspaper columnist, Jenkin Lloyd Jones, has been credited as saying: "Life is like an old-time rail journey -- delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.  The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."  I could truthfully add: Life is like a long bicycle ride ... miles of monotonous peddling, interspersed on occasion with inspiring and thought-provoking scenes. 

Among the pervasive evidences of abject poverty, like the neglected homesteads of the poorly maintained businesses, we saw evidences of individuals making a difference -- rising above their surroundings, taking responsibility for their own outcomes.  For example: someone in the small hamlet of Elton, cared enough to assemble a bright and cheerful seasonal display in a freshly mowed field.  Or in an old and moldy cemetery among the broken and forgotten flower pots, were placed fresh and colorful flowers in remembrance of a loved one.  Each of us as individuals can make a contribution.  And the contributions we make do not go unnoticed.  

We are wise to hurriedly return to safety as soon as the first signs of danger appear, even when it may be disappointing, inconvenient, or appears to be undesirable.  Safety may be found at home or with family, with moral and trusted friends, at church or other wholesome activities, or even in prayer. 

Just like with the wide shoulder shown approaching the bridge over the Atchafalaya River which, when just out of sight, completely disappeared to become an unforeseen trap, we need to rely on the experience, knowledge, and wisdom of others to help us along life's journey.  To try to do it alone will prove to be a huge mistake, perhaps one that cannot be rectified.