Give my regards to Louisiana, remember me to old Mississippi

Today we are in Orange Beach, Alabama near the western edge of Florida.  We are staying at a condo on the bay owned by an employee of Rhonda's brother-in-law (the condo, that is, not the bay).  It's beautiful here and we will take a few days off to enjoy.

Ah Mississippi.  The state that has more "s"s than most other states.  (Got it's share of "I"s too)



Here's Ingalls Shipyard.  Most of the Navy's ships are built here or at Bath Iron Works. 

This is Alabama?  Who knew?

 

RURAL LOUISIANA

It's pretty around here, real pretty.  We ride shaded roads past all manner of greenery. 

Louisiana back roads.

A fine ole Louisiana Home

WATER

There's no shortage in these parts.  Forget about the warning signs in California that threatened to have you locked up if you used more than a thimble for a shower.   Like the kind that comes out of the sky for instance.  Remember my post from Deridder (last post)?  Well for twelve hours it just wouldn't quit.  On our next morning's ride we witnessed the result.  We passed flooded homes and swollen streams and woods galore.

Some unhappy campers after the Deridder rains.

Hey, speaking of water, have you ever heard of the Mississippi River?  We went right over the top of the thing (see photo).



Ya gotta get over that river somehow.  This is the Audubon Bridge built in 2012.
Look carefully in the right hand lane and you'll see a couple of campers.  Yup, Bev
and Rhonda just happened to be going by when I snapped this picture, really.



Cool bridge.

And if that wasn't enough, we went on a tour in a swamp boat and communed with the gators, snakes and birds.  It was fun.

Met this fellow in the swamp.

FOOD.  AH, THE FOOD.

We have been eating our way across the south in fine shape.

I love barbecue.  Boy, do I love barbecue and the south has it in spades, especially Texas, but good barbecue abounds throughout.  Debbe and Michael took us out for barbecue in Austin to one of their favorite spots and treated us to the "Cadillac", anything and everything barbecued in an all-you-can- eat bonanza.  I figured with my biking appetite I'd show them a thing or two at the restaurant as to how we Yankees can eat but we didn't even make it through the first serving.  Lots of good barbecue before and after.

Crawdads. Crawfish that is.  Well Louisiana, western Louisiana to be exact, is the crawfish capital of the world.  Now how these little lobsters ever made their way out here is beyond me but they're here aplenty.  It's interesting.   In the winter the farmers flood their fields and grow(?), raise(?), encourage(?)- I don't know, what do you call it when crawfish is your business?  "Howdy stranger, I'm a crawfish poke.  How 'bout yourself?"  Then when the herd is rounded up and driven to market the same fields are used to grow rice.  (Crop rotation?)  How do they round these little babies up?  Believe it or not by pulling nets through the fields with boats.  That's right, boats.  Reminds me of a joke about the guy from the County who went to Old Town to buy a canoe with his tax return.  Well, that's for another time.  In a more simple manner we stopped and spoke with some folks who were gathering them out of a roadside stream with nets on the end of poles.  They didn't seem to be having much trouble filling five gallon buckets to overflowing. 

That ain't no lake.  That there is a crawdad field.



Why not stop beside the road and get a bucket of crawfish?

So the inevitability of the situation was that we needed to get us some crawdads to eat.  We asked around to figure how many were appropriate for a meal.  "I wouldn't bother to sit down to less than five pounds myself."  "Oh lordy, I could eat thirty pounds at a sittin' no problem."  "You best find yourself one of them all ya can eat restaurants, you're gonna want to eat a lot!"  Ok, we were warned and the search was under way. 

"Boiled crawfish" said the sign.  "Sorry, we're all out."  "We won't have any until this afternoon."  "Not today."   "Try Hank's Fish Market on the edge of town".  Yeah, Hank's was there on the edge of town with the boiled crawfish sign with the flashing arrow sign pointing to the shack, neon "Open" sign ablaze in the window and the "Welcome come in" sign on the door.   But Hank was nowhere to be found.  The door was locked.  What was this?  Well, after a week's search we found our boiled crawfish.  Two pounds seemed to be the right amount for Joe and I (Bev and Rhonda refused to eat any of those ugly little things) and it was.  Good? Yeah.  Great?  I'll stick with my lobsters.  

Yup, finally got to try some of these guys.

Seafood Cajun style is just fine by me.  Besides crawfish there's catfish, Gulf fish, shrimp and crab.  And speaking of Cajun, how about some fine jambalaya or some conecuh or andouille sausage.  Why not throw in a little alligator to boot?  I even tried a little Cajun cooking myself one night at the campground with some boiled shrimp.

The Mexican food here is wonderful.  I had my best ever fajitas in New Orleans. 

I've enjoyed it all.


MORE MILES.

Well, the miles roll on.   Only about 500 more left for the trip.  Interestingly, the winds are consistently out of the east.  Who knew? 

I've given up riding my lightweight bike.  The roads are just too difficult for the lightweight tires.  Rough surfaces, some pot holes and when they exist, the shoulders are often littered with any manner of debris from rocks, to sand, to pallets, to truck tires, to lumber of all sizes and sources, to the ever present broken beer bottle, to various car parts, to miscellaneous pieces of steel, to much more I'm sure I'm forgetting.  I've already used up a complete tire repair kit patching tires.  On the ride to Dauphin Island alone I had three flat tires for the day.  The heavier tires on my touring bike are standing up to this abuse.  No flats there yet.

The people we have met have all been wonderful.  All have have been kind, friendly and open minded (and generally with a liberal bent).  In Grand Bay the other day Joe and I were approached by a woman who offered us her unrented apartment for the night.  We stayed with Nella Ruth Rogers at her place on the lake she and her husband had made in the 60's.  At 92 years old she was welcoming and a delight to chat with.  We have also added many more bikers to our collection of "has mets" all kind and engaging.  We have encountered many Trump apologists.  As yet, no vocal supporters although the campaign signs are still flying in this part of the country.

Bev and I drove into Pensacola last night  to meet up with an old and dear friend of our daughter Kim- Taylor Mogul and her boyfriend Kyle.  We had a wonderful meal and a great visit.


NEW ORLEANS.

Camped at Fontainebleau State Park on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, it was a twenty-three mile trip south straight through the middle of the lake on what I am told is the longest bridge in the world.

The Ponchartrain Bridge.  No right hand turns please.

We presented ourselves in the "Big Easy" the weekend of the French Quarter Festival.  Kind of a mini (although certainly not small) Mardi Gras.  Never out of earshot of  the sound of live jazz or blues, we wandered along the mighty Mississippi  and strolled the French Quarter with an obligatory trip up Bourbon Street.   It was all we expected, complete with bead-draped trees and everything else that would possibly hold a strand. 

Out for a little afternoon cruise on Bourbon Street.

The city boasts the largest World War II Museum in the world.  We spent a full day touring it leaving behind many unseen exhibits.  For a scary look in the mirror go online and view their exhibit about Nazi propaganda and try not to see its shadow in current events.

Lovely, fun, and lively place and we enjoyed ourselves.


DAUPHIN ISLAND.

Our route took us along the Alabama coast to Dauphin Island by way of a several mile long bridge.  The island is a four-mile long sliver of land in the Gulf.  We spent an extra day to enjoy some leisurely biking and some good food.

Shrimp boats on the way into Dauphin Island.

Joe and I left the island by way of ferry. It was not large enough to accommodate the camping trailers, Rhonda and Bev drove around Mobile to meet up with us.



FROM HERE.

One more state to go!

You can swim to Dauphin Island or ride over this baby.