Alabama to Louisiana
Post date: May 17, 2010 2:23:18 PM
Route
South from Muscle Shoals on some smaller, scenic highways, then to 59 S and then 10 W. Through New Orleans and landed on the west side of the Mississippi River in Baton Rouge. Total of 480 miles in spite of rain, fatigue, and a late start. Kalpesh got me a discount at an Econo Lodge.
Environment
The longest downpour I’ve trekked through yet. A good five hours of steady rain. Semis just love to take their time passing in the left lane, don’t they? That means I ate a lot of their mist, and a more timid driver would have balked at the invisibility. My visor doesn’t defog well in rain, especially since I must close the two top vents to prevent a head drenching. That’s like a windshield without wipers or defrost for five hours. It was depressing. When I broke through the storms in Mississippi I found myself screaming victory and laughing hysterically. I was soaked, cold, and dismayed for so long that I’d thought it wouldn’t show mercy this day, but it did. The sun and warmth renewed my concentration. I plowed out some miles.
There were moments of clarity and dry, however, in Alabama, and I saw some of the prettiest countryside yet on the way south. Lush forests and dead armadillos every couple miles. One armadillo was being feasted upon by ravens, flies, and even butterflies. A moss-covered snapper was taking a break in the middle of the road, sunning himself, I suppose, so I redirected cars as I spent several minutes doing laps around this guy/gal. I’d try to get behind him to nab his tail, but he’d turn with me and snap and kick when I got close. He punched the bottom of my boot several times, one of which he actually nipped the rubber. He chomped a stick in half that I tried to use to get him to clamp onto and drag him with. Eventually I swung him to the grassy roadside, which descended into watery ditches and thick vegetation.
Mississippi has some beautiful, tall, straight pines. That was a surprise; they looked Canadian.
New Orleans and the bayou. Reminded me of The Waterboy and CCR’s “Down on the Bayou.” Muck-scent filled some areas. Trees killed by the encroaching saltwater stood amid living trees. Water everywhere. Makes you wonder just how much walkable land is actually in the area. Behind one gas station I explored a swamp to its rear and spotted nearly a dozen nutria, those infamous water-rodents that have become both an infestation and a delicacy in the region. Yum, rat.
Technical
Raingear. I have some concerns about the effectiveness of my gear’s waterproofing. My gore-tex lined boots did not protect me, my Tourmaster Transitions II jacket eventually soaked through, and my Scorpion Exo Deuce pants even leaked in spots. Dry means warm and fungus free, so I’m considering buying an overcoat, new boots, and donning my extra rain pants in the future.
Social
The Subway girls in Alabama were SLOW and their southern accents posed that familiar barrier to me. I got my roasted chicken sub though. I needed that after all that rain. I napped at the table in that Subway/gas station, and I’m pretty sure I heard the manager walk by me a couple times, saying, “Sir?” I ignored it. After my thirty minute catchup, I walked out, and this teen boy perked when he saw me and inquired, “You’re going biking?” I responded with a gruff, “Hell yeah. And for four hundred more miles.” His mom said, “Good luck.” A man outside that gas station was sleeping in his front seat. He looked comfortable enough. The gentleman at the front desk at the Econo Lodge commented on the beauty of the women on the new show, “Basketball Wives.” He encouraged me to sit in the lobby and watch it with him. Right.
Psychoanalytic
I’ve spent so much time on the road, and I haven’t even begun the real trip yet! As I pass these landscapes, admiring, I wonder, “Is this where I would like to settle?” Ever place has its pros and cons, and I find that I always assume that the locals are somehow removed from the world at large, with its oil spills in the gulf, the recessed economy, and threat of the rising Chinese economy. It seems that no land is my home. The earth is my home, and I want to live all over it. I had the sensation that my father would have loved the scenic Alabama I saw. All that roadkill… he would pick up roadkill to bait his traps. I remember him saying, “Don’t kill unless you intend to use every bit of the animal.” I think he may have felt remorse at lost lives like those on the road and felt that putting them to use in their death would honor them. Reminds me of the movie Avatar.
The Weird, The Wild
Loved that snapper in the road. Such a temper he had. Wonder what he’s up to now.