Making our way towards N'awlins

I arrived in Pensacola on Thursday afternoon (10.25) and found a place to stay relatively near the airport so I could meet Lisa when she arrived on Friday. I went to dinner at the Cuban restaurant housed within Days Inn off Hwy. 90 and picked up a conversation with a man sitting at the next table. It turns out he was from Australia. He had lived all over the states since 1961 when he moved here out of college to work for Ford. He didn't much like living in Florida (he called it the "redneck Riviera") but he owns some properties here. He was happy to be at this relatively new restaurant and said the food was great. He was right. He got pretty excited when he heard about my trip and told me he was continually disappointed at the narrow-mindedness of people who didn't know much about the world. He said he'd done business in Latin American for decades and felt safer there than here.

On Friday, I met Lisa at the airport and we decided to forge ahead to Mobile even though we were getting a late start. The ride was a bit hilly, but it went smooth. We rode about 72 miles to the far side of Mobile arriving about 9:30 that evening. Overall, it was pretty uneventful though we entered Mobile through a tunnel as we were advised to do by our maps and by clerks at a local store about 5 miles out of the city. There wasn't a lot of traffic and all would have gone well except that my chain got jammed in a lower gear and I couldn't pedal. This is a problem I've had before as a result of the threads on my frame that hold my bike rack on getting stripped. As a consequence I've had to run a nut and bolt through the other side that causes this jam. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. I knew what it was immediately and advised Lisa to go ahead as there was no way I could fix it in the middle of the tunnel. My only choice was to run the bike out of there as fast as I could and hope traffic would simply get around me with care. Right about then, a male voice came on over an intercom system and started saying repeatedly, "No biking in the tunnel. Do not stop. Get out of the tunnel." They must have had a surveillance camera in place. I hauled it as fast as I could, but it wasn't easy or fun. As I exited the tunnel where Lisa waited for me the voice said: "Don't come back!"

What way to enter the city.


On Saturday we rode into Biloxi with little fanfare. The weather was nice and cool. When we were getting settled for the evening, I realized I had a broken link on my chain, probably from the jam going through the tunnel the previous day. Fortunately, I had the parts and the tools to fix it. In Biloxi, and for the rest of our ride through Mississippi, we began to see the stark lingering evidence of Hurricane Katrina along the shoreline drive (HWY 98) where businesses, homes and roads were swept away with only hollowed out frames or flat foundations left behind. Some bridges were closed, but others are being re-opened this fall.


Swamplands in Western Louisiana.


Some beach homes along the coast. It was apparent that many of these had also been wiped out, though it was also clear that some folks rebuilt right away while others had only small trailers on otherwise empty lots with some debris of their former homes still on the land.

Pics from a suburban pit-stop about 10 miles outside of New Orleans.

On Sunday we made it into New Orleans where we will be until Thursday morning. After Lisa leaves that morning, I will start making my way to Texas. I should be in Houston by Sunday at the latest. On Monday I had to find a bike shop first thing and get my rear tire replaced again (#4). Our entry into the city on Sunday was severely slowed because I started getting a series of flats, which is usually a sure sign that my tire is gone. It was. Nevertheless, we made it to a motel near the French Quarter and once we got settled in we were able to tour the scene foe a bit.

My congrats go out to Lisa who survived the trip just fine after a limited training period. She did great! It's been nice (if not a bit unusual) to have company to share thoughts/feelings along the way. I'm accustomed to internalizing my experiences, so this is a welcome break from that practice.