Beginning our 5th week in Louisiana

On Saturday March 29 we entered Louisiana and after a 100-mile day ended in Opelousas.  The day was hot and humid.  Next day we headed out early and with another 100-mile day reached the Mississippi River.  We took a small ferry across and ended the day at St. Franciseville. 

The countryside is extremely flat -- the historic flood plain of the Mississippi-- and verdant.  Huge oaks, cypresses, pines and flowering bushes abound.  Most small towns -- as we've seen almost the entire extend of our trip -- are dead or dying, with storefronts bordered up, for sale, or falling to rubble. The only thriving parts tend to be clustered around the intersections of major roads, and they consist of Exxon or Texaco minimarts and maybe a franchise hotel or two.

So far Louisiana seems to be a mix of scattered mobile homes, a few one-story brick homes, and the very occasional larger home with white columns in front.  Most are near waterways of some sort, often just stagnant bayous.  We are seeing armadillos (road kill) and kids fishing for crawfish.

Just entering LA we met Bill of Cincinnati, a 50-something man riding alone toward the Pacific.  He started in Georgia.  We wished we could have shared a beer with him (couldn't have anyway, because we were in a "dry" part of Louisiana) and asked why, despite the great anxiety of his wife, he would suddenly get it in mind to pedal across the continent.  Maybe he would have helped us answer the same question in ourselves!

Today, Monday, we are taking an off day to visit New Orleans.  Then, instead of driving back to this spot (we are in Baton Rouge at this moment) we will intersect our route east of NO.  

April 3 -- Pushing eastward through the rural and piney Florida Panhandle.

Earlier forecasts of rain dissipated and we rode another 90 miles eastward, ending at Marianna, a day's ride from the Florida capitol, Tallahassee.  The quality of the ride today was easy, on smooth roads with good shoulders.  We stopped for lunch at Sally's, in Ponce de Leon, on Hwy 90.  Easily the highpoint of the day -- fabulous trucker's favorite type of place, and we were peppered with nonstop and friendly questions by diners nearby.  Bill, the most voluble of the group at that point, fielded most of the questions.  How many miles a day?  How long from California?  Who was the lucky one who got to drive?  How would we get back? What was our fastest speed? How could anyone ride that many miles?

For a couple dozen miles we got friendly honks from people we had met, and who passed us.