Southern U.S. Day 14 part 2

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Day 14 May 17, 2013

I left Tallahassee early, the sky was still dark and it was cool. When I got on he highway there was very little traffic, it almost seemed like I was on an open road in the west (almost). I am excited to be riding without all of the congestion.

I love watching the sun rise, the period of time before the sun actually rises and the sky is starting to get light, is very beautiful and peaceful.

As I mentioned, it was very cool and my hands got really cold. After about a half an hour of cold hands, it occurred to me that my hands would be warmer if I turned on my heated handgrips.

It is about 1600 mi from New Orleans to home and 7 days to do it in, so I have to decide to either stay and extra day in New Orleans, go really slow through Tennessee, Kentucky, & West Virginia, or go home early to see my family.

I stopped for breakfast in Defuniak, Florida, the food was great and it was interesting listening to the locals (mostly republicans, from what I could gather).

Because I got an early start and changed time zones, my gps told me that I would arrive in New Orleans at noon. I figured that gave me time to take a nice leisurely ride along the “scenic” route, so I got off of the interstate and drove to Moss Point to get a stamp at the Grand Bay National Estaurine Research Reserve, which is out in the middle of nowhere.

The facility was very large and had several buildings; one had a sign indicating that it was a dorm. I assumed that they did a lot of research work out here. As I was walking up the steps to the visitor center, it occurred to me that if we bought just a few less military planes and ships, we could fund a ton of research facilities. Don’t know where that thought came from, it just popped into my head.

When I asked the man standing behind the counter where the National Park stamp was he told me that he had to get Mary – she is in charge of the stamp. He went in the back and came out with Mary (I assumed she was Mary, anyway). She got very excited that someone wanted her stamp. She gave me the stamp and then proceeded to talk my ear off. We chatted for about 15 minutes when we were finished chatting (only because I was inching my way to the door) she directed me to Ocean Springs, MS where I could get two more stamps and lunch.

I proceeded down “scenic” rt. 90 toward Ocean Springs, which is a road with wall to wall towns, very low speed limits and lots of red lights. And it was starting to get hot and muggy.

I rode to the Mary C. O’Keefe Cultural Center in Ocean Springs to get another stamp and the lady at the desk also got very excited that someone wanted her stamp. Fortunately she didn’t proceed to talk my ear off.

I then went to the Ocean Springs Chamber of Commerce to get a third stamp. This woman was excited, but not as excited as the first two. The third woman spent some time extolling the virtues of Ocean Springs, which had just been voted one of three 2013 “Great American Main Streets”. She was very proud of that award.

When I left the Chamber of Commerce it occurred to me that none of these places were National Parks – they were National Historical Areas, and I wasn’t sure that they would count. I looked in the stamp book ant the only stamp listed for this areas was Gulf Island National Seashore, so I backtracked about 10 miles to get the stamp

After I got the stamp, I was buying postcards and there was a sign near the register that said your purchases help support the national parks. I commented on the sign and said that if we bought a few less military planes and ships we could fund a whole lot of National Parks. She said the problem with that is that equipment gets obsolete. I told her that we spend more on military than the rest of the world combined. Turns out her husband retired from the military and her son is in the Air Force Academy. I decided that I wasn’t going to turn her into a pacifist, so I politely took my leave.

As I was riding on I10 about 10 car lengths behind a car that was about 3 car lengths behind a truck, the car started to pass the truck and just as I was getting ready to move to the left lane to pass the truck, the truck lost a tire. The tread bounced into the left lane and the car swerved to the left to avoid it. I slammed on my brakes and swerved to the right avoiding the tread and all of the smaller debris as well. I have seen many tires on the side of the road, and some in the road, but this is only the second time I actually saw it happen. It’s unnerving to say the least.

When I got to New Orleans, it was late afternoon and hot and muggy. I didn’t want to drive in the city, where there are two places to get stamps, so I drove to Marrero, just south east of New Orleans to get the Jean Lafitte NHP stamp. When I got to the park entrance, there were police cars blocking the way in. I asked an officer how to get to the visitor center and he told me that I would have to park in a lot that was miles away and take a shuttle in. He advised against doing that because the parking area was not secure. I tried to convince him to let me drive to the visitor’s center, to no avail.

I realized that I would have to drive into the city tomorrow to get a stamp, which meant a late start because the visitor center doesn’t open until 9.

By this time, I was hotter than hell and just wanted to get to my motel. Unfortunately, my gps didn’t recognize the address of the motel so I had to use google maps to get me there. I had to stop every so often to look at the map, just like in ancient times before gps’s. And of course, every time I stopped to look at the map I got hotter.

I finally got to the motel, cranked the air conditioner and hopped into the shower. I decided that I would rest for a while and then go to the French Quarter for dinner.

I left for French quarter around 7, looking forward to a good meal. Riding in on route 90 into New Orleans you go across a huge bridge. Near the entrance to the bridge there are signs telling you that there is a toll ahead. That’s ok, it’s a huge bridge and I guess someone has to pay for it. Some lanes are marked electronic tag only so I move to a lane that wasn’t marked thusly. As I came up to the toll booths I looked for signs telling me how much the toll was, and couldn’t see any. Remember, it is dusk and there is a fair amount of traffic traveling around 50 – 80 mph, so I really didn’t have a lot of time to be searching for signs. Anyway, as I approached the toll booth and slowed down, I assumed the toll collector would tell me what the toll was. When I pulled up to the toll booth and started to stop I noticed a sign on the side of the booth (the side you can only see as you are stopped at the booth) that said there is no toll – don’t stop. I was flabbergasted and they guy behind me was probably wishing I was never born.

The town was a lot dumpier than I remembered, with a lot more casinos. Like Las Vegas, it was gaudy, with tons of traffic, both pedestrian and vehicular. The lines for the restaurants stretched around the block and Bourbon Street was wall to wall people. After riding around a while I realized it would be pointless to try and get something to eat there, and being on a motorcycle made it impossible to drink, and as I was at least 3 times as old as most of the people I saw, it just seemed pretty pointless to even park. It kinda sucks getting old. I considered being the dwerpy old guy tourist taking pictures of anything and everything, but my heart just wasn’t in it.

GPS had a hell of a time getting me out of the city; I think it has pre-Katrina maps. It was telling me to turn place there was no turn, go around circles that didn’t exist etc. etc. etc.

Drivers in New Orleans are bizarre. There is no rhyme or reason to their behavior. They go slow in the left lane, fast in the right lane; sometimes traffic goes 10 miles below the speed limit and sometimes 15 mph above, and sometimes both at the3 same time. I haven’t seen many motorcycles, now I know why.

The traffic engineers in this city are sadists. Every read light is about 10 minutes longer than it needs to be. It is painful to drive in New Orleans, especially on a motorcycle.

A word of advice – If you are planning on going for a motorcycle ride skip the whole southern Alabama, Mississippi New Orleans/Southern Louisiana part, unless you are riding between November & March when it is cooler.

I am hoping the ride will get better as I travel north.

A note about pictures: I haven’t taken nearly as many pictures on this trip as I did the last trip for three reasons:

1. Everyone complained about there being too many pictures of roads, especially Jenine, Erik, & Paul (guys – this is a damn motorcycle trip – what did you expect to see?)

2. Due to the light traffic out west you can stop almost anytime you want to take pictures. Here it is almost impossible to stop alongside the road too take pictures.

3. The east coast is not nearly as photogenic as the west.

I am hoping that will change when I get to Tennessee & Kentucky

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