Day Thirty-Seven
An amazing irony I kept thinking about today is that for 5+ weeks I've been facing relentless pressure from ubiquitous car culture, so many people driving too fast and dangerously close, yet today I rode in the literal heart of the industry that fuels car culture: chemical plants, bauxite refining and petrochemical processing at a massively continental scale, and it was the quietest and most bucolic day of riding of the whole trip so far.
Last night, I had to have a green salad, which I enjoyed with a cup of gumbo, and I was satisfied with nothing more.
Tonight, dinner was a huge breakfast at the Waffle House, with a chocolate chip waffle, massive slab of ham, eggs, toast, jam and chocolate milk.
It's amazing how my appetite swings in 24 hours. Monday’s ride was tough on several levels, but I woke if fresh and ready to ride this morning. My morning routine continues to streamline, including getting breakfast and sneaking some second breakfast items out of the motel breakfast room. After the bike was packed this morning I noticed the rear tire was low. I got the panniers off the bike and pulled the tube out, reasoning that doing it here and now in the room was much better than doing it later in teh blazing heat on the side of the road. It was a super small leak on a tube seam. This was the second seam leak on this tube so I decided it was defective, tossed it in the trash and grabbed one of my fresh tubes. This put my departure later than I had hoped for, because it would hit 88 degrees today. But it’s better to be completely ready before hitting the road.
Leaving Port Allen, there was a bridge to cross with construction work going on, with Jersey-barriered, narrow lanes. It was a little hair raising, but not for very far. After that, it was 15 miles of smooth riding to Plaquemine and my ferry crossing of the Mississippi River.
I wasn’t sure what to expect at the ferry landing, but it was different from the Washington State Ferries that I am used to, and it is a smart setup for the conditions. The ferry has an open deck and entries for vehicles on the port and starboard sides rather than the ends, which is smart. The river is different from Puget Sound. The Sound has predictable tides but not a lot of current. The Mississippi has unpredictable flooding and receding, and lots of current. So here, the shore side is not a terminal, but heaps of gravel that get reworked into a ferry holding and access area after each big flood. The ferry “dock” is really a barge, so it can go up and down with the river. The ferry skipper docks facing upriver, into the current, using ferry angles (this is where that term comes from, rafters!). The ferry crew just kind of assumed everyone knew what to do, so they gave no instruction or directions to motorists driving onto the ferry. Everyone seemed to know just what to do. I read that the ferry costs $1 westbound and is free eastbound. But I didn’t see anyone collecting money. So apparently it’s free both ways.
Once on the east side of the river, it was about 70 miles to my stop for the night, La Place. I started to ride south and east, along the river levee. Something quickly became apparent: this was going to be the nicest day of riding of the trip so far. A pretty, calm countryside, Massive but clean and well organized industrial structures, good pavement and—for the first time since the Mojave Desert—VERY LITTLE TRAFFIC! And the traffic that there was was dutifully honoring the 55 mph speed limit. And the wind was blowing right to left, which means vehicles are quieter too With the wind off my right shoulder, blowing into traffic, it was even quieter.
All of these qualities sustained all day, which made it the best and most enjoyable day of cycling that I have had in 2,000+ miles of riding. You read that correctly. Today was the best ride day of the trip, by a big margin. Quiet, unhurried, no manic, loud traffic, interesting countryside with nature and massive industrial infrastructure existing side-by-side. It did get hot—89 degrees at the hottest time of the day—but the breeze was refreshing and I think I am adjusting to the heat. I just kept pounding the water with electrolyte supplements.
This pleasantness lasted all day long.
I met Bob and Lori from St. George, Utah, at a river overlook. Wonderful, lovely people, who last year visited every state, and this year are exploring the Mississippi, from mouth to headwaters.
Also, near the end of the day’s ride, a woman in a passing pick up pointed out that I didn’t have to ride on the road, because there is a dedicated bike path on top of the levee. So I followed her advice and the ride got even better. At about 80 miles in, with 4-5 to go until my final dismount of the day, I had a peculiar thought: I didn’t what this day of pristine cycling to end. For the first day since April 1st, I wasn’t counting the miles when I’d be off the bike and done riding for the day. After 80 miles, I was tired, but not exhausted, and not hurting. Should I go farther today? No. I feel no need to push ahead. So, today ended as it began, happily riding in good conditions, with considerate, and few, drivers, in beautiful, interesting country, After 5 1/2 weeks, I’m finally growing into the ride.
Tomorrow it’s just 40 miles to New Orleans’ French Quarter, where I’ll stay at least 2 nights, maybe 3. The weather will be hot while I am not riding, but instead, visiting New Orleans. And the temperatures will drop and the weathe will moderate just as I am leaving NO and resuming my eastward advance. Perfect.
I’d love to hear from you. Donate to the ride and send along your words of encouragement and tell me why getting kids outside matters to you.
