October 21, 2021
Day Twelve: A Farm South of Melville, Louisiana to Krotz Springs, Louisiana
Some days it just doesn't work out.
The evening before:
The farm was right on the Atchafalaya River. The owner, Danny, told me that he frequently hosted "paddlers" - kayakers, canoers - who were usually completing long, often multi-month river tours - trips often thousands of miles long. One of the most common journeys is apparently from the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Minnesota to the river's end ("Source to Sea.") Sometimes the paddlers switch to the Atchafalaya from the Mississippi for the last few days.
There was a building separate from the farmhouse where the paddlers stayed, so after Danny showed me around, I took a shower there, took care of a few chores, and joined him on the porch. He is a major Cajun raconteur, and had lots of stories about the people who'd visited his place over the years, and his own time in years past couch surfing all over the world.
At one point he announced that we were going for a drive to visit some friends. It was getting close to my bedtime, but I acquiesced, and joined him on a slightly hair-raising car ride. It had been a while since I'd ridden in a car, and it probably seemed to me that we were going much faster on the rural roads than we actually were. The funny thing is that years before, I was a fast, aggressive driver. But then when I started riding a bike several thousand miles a year, I became hyper-vigilant when driving. Now I drive like the stereotypical elderly man.
We weren't gone long. The main purpose of the visit was to retrieve some canned food, etc. that Danny planned to distribute to some needy people in the area.
Back at the farm, it was definitely past my bedtime when Danny announced it was time for dinner. He was disappointed to learn that I was a vegetarian. Apparently the idea of not eating meat is an alien concept in Cajun country, where so much importance is placed on food. For the first of several times in the next few days, I heard about the wonders of "boudin."
Despite my protests that I had plenty of snacks in the bag on my bike, he insisted on heating up some beans that he had cooked earlier. They were very good - better than any beans I'd ever made.
After more conversation, in which Danny provided dire warnings about the traffic on my route tomorrow, I retired to the building, put my sleeping bag on one of the mattresses, and tried to go to sleep.
I could not sleep.
As I lay in the dark, I thought about tomorrow's traffic, and about all the sugar cane trucks which would be zooming past me. Then I started thinking about the multiple projects I needed to finish for customers when I got back home from this trip. My mind was racing.
A few times, from 10:30 to 11:00, I drifted off to sleep, but then was awakened by scurrying noises? Mice? I started imagining mice, spiders, and who knew what else crawling on me in the night.
At 11:30, I got up and did what I obviously should have done from the beginning: I unpacked my tent and set it up on top of the mattress.
After that I was finally able to sleep for about four hours, although even then I woke up a few times. I finally got up for good about 4:30, and got everything put back on the bike. I took my laptop out and did a little work.
While I was doing this, the "scurrying" noises that I'd noticed last night returned. I glanced over to see a rat, about six feet from where I'd been sleeping. I jumped approximately a foot. I have a horror of rats.
I packed up the laptop and pushed the bike outside to find a dense, dense fog. I couldn't even see the river. I looked at my phone's weather app to see that yes, there was a dense fog advisory that would not be over until 10:30.
I was about a mile from Melville. I felt an urgent need to get back to town and escape a scene that had become a little too rustic for me. And I needed a Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi urgently. It's really pretty sad how I've become addicted to the feel of "the burn" of an ice cold soda pop first thing in the morning.
Danny did not appear to be up yet. So I turned on every light I had and rode the mile back to town through the fog. The supermarket was already open at 7:00. I hung out there for a couple of hours, sitting outside on the sidewalk. Passersby occasionally walked up and engaged me in conversation, although much of it was one-sided. The people in the area certainly love to talk. Two different people told me that Melville's decades of hard times were the fault of Huey P. Long, who decades ago had been insulted by someone in Melville, and punished the town by allocating funds for a new bridge to the town of Krotz Springs instead. I have a feeling this is a story that is often told by Melville people.
I fielded a couple of questions about how many miles my bicycle tires last. Surprisingly, that oft-asked question had not been asked on this trip so far.
Eventually I felt guilty for leaving the farm without saying goodbye, so I rode back to the farm through the almost-cleared fog, had breakfast with Danny, and finally got on the road by almost 11:00, which is absurdly late for me. It was very, very hot and humid by now.
As predicted, traffic the ten miles to Krotz Springs was horrendous. It was probably much worse because the cane harvest was happening, but even without those trucks, it was super-heavy.
By now I'd decided to go to the large town of Opelousas instead of following my planned remote route south. The only way to Opelousas, though, was 20 miles on an ultra-busy divided four lane highway. I sat in front of Cajun grocery and observed the very, very busy traffic. I felt lightheaded and sick from lack of sleep and the heat. For the first time ever on a solo bike tour, I wimped out and decided to hitch a ride.
I texted a Warmshowers member in Opelousas to see if he could drive me the twenty miles to town. He immediately agreed, showed up a while later, and drove me to Opelousas. As we drove, the highway didn't seem that bad after all - extremely busy, yes, but the shoulder was reasonable almost the entire way. Apparently the location from which I had observed the mega-traffic earlier was the worst possible scenario - it was at a busy crossroads - and I felt major regret that I had sullied my bicycle tour by taking a ride in a vehicle, even for only 20 miles. I mentioned this to my driver, but he just laughed: "You're a purist." I guess I am.
He drove me to a motel, where I checked in, and after doing a few chores, went to bed the earliest ever on this trip (7-ish) and slept very deeply for hours.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 2 | Link |
Today's ride: 11 miles (18 km)
Total: 816 miles (1,313 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 8 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 5 |
2 years ago
2 years ago
2 years ago
2 years ago