Saturday night, 25 miles in 2 mile circles. Boring ,Boring, Boring, the music was great though.
Rested Saturday night, went to church Sunday morning and asked God to let me ride bike one more day then if he feels I need a lightening bolt, hit me . I saddled up after church, plenty fluids, 2 Gatorade's, Camelpak full of ice and Propel , a spare propel in my pocket, 5 nutrigrain bars, a poncho, some magic dust , and wing and a prayer cause it was hot.
I approached the Levee at Williams , could see heat rising off the top of the levee waiting for me to come swim in waves of steam . Once atop the levee heat rose up to caress me and let me feel mother nature's brutality . Once moving , moisture started to evaporate on me, it 's cooler, evaporation keeps you cool and biking clothes are designed to do that very well. Ten miles down the river my arms weren't feeling evaporative , they were hot, cooking , the sizzle was annoying.. Sucking on the camelpak mouthpiece like a baby that hadn't had tit in a while, had to ration , poured the extra Propel on the ice to have cool drink longer. The Sun kept my fat face squished, squirrelly, strange sight, scared most of the birds . Hitchcock would have been proud. Audubon Park was cool, Live Oak shade protected most of the trail , I stopped for a break, drank,drank, drank, watched kids playing on swings, picnickers laid in the shade cooking like chickens on a rotisserie, slow and tender, jumped on St Charles, hit a right at the first corner , decided to take Prytania for a change, smooth, plenty trees, history, big houses. On Royal all the buggy tour guides bring tourist to a Royal St house with the Corn stalk fence, there's also one on Prytania ,I think it's more intricate. Took some shots of the Norwegian Sailors Church an international landmark . Got a horse head hitchin post, don't look too old. then I was stunned , a picture popped up in front of me , it hit right between the eyes, a crepe myrtle with red bark, it was beautiful, I dismounted and appreciated it before I pictured it, it deserved it ,
I snapped it with reverence and prayed it lived a long life. real beauty in a man made jungle.
Margaret's Place is hidden on Camp near Prytania, she built many orphanages for many children, her story's on the placard. A real humanitarian in a time when we need humanitarians.
St Anna's Asylum is a favorite stop. it's now St.. Anna's residence, built in 1850, prior to the Civil War. In 1850 what did we know about mental illness, as time went on we may have known less. I stood in the street, looking at the top of the building where they painted over St. Anna's Asylum trying to erase the things that may have went on there. They called them patients, shackled in white gowns, stripped of dignity, sanity, choice , pride and pleasure.
How many, how many, how many had, simple maladies like depression, OCD, ADD, Turrets,
Bi polar disorder, nervousness, anxiety, how many were committed by husbands wanting to rid themselves of a current wife, for another, or families ridding themselves of children that just didn't seem right. What patients had too much passion for life, living out the box, crossing the grain, not following the main stream of sanity, that's what Jack Kerouac was saying in Coo Coos Nest. As I stood in the street my soul opened up and I could hear the cries of shock treatments,
the silence of laudanum,( tincture of opium with morphine), cocaine, the whimpers of life being trashed through ignorance. I think I live Kerouac's quote "My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.” I shed one final tear for my comrades and rode on vowing to live with passions uncontrolled and fearless of consequence for I am free to wallow in my own insanities and swim in the mainstream with my head up and my soul hidden from the witch hunters looking for lunatics. The mp 3 player continued on, each song taking me to another place and time, "Fire" by "Hendrix" came on , it sent me back to 16 years old, my friend and I stopped by the Continental Liquor Store picked up a bottle of white wine and finished it just as we reached the "Flower Pot" a new hippie hangout on St Ann and Rampart.
I had on my black long sleeve shirt with the paisley trim in the cuffs and collar, I folded them back to fit in a little, the fare was corn dogs, orange Julius, and wacko weed, the hippie chicks we came to see in their granny dresses were skankier and stinkier than they seemed from a distance. I landed in front of the bar which is now the bandstand, a young electric band was playing unfamiliar stuff, the singer announces he's going to play a song by a guitarist who's popular in England and coming to the states soon, he placed pick to string and played "Fire" by "Hendrix" I was mesmerized, spellbound, that day on I searched for and listened to Hendrix every chance, "Little Wing" was recorded by 147 other people in different styles.
His songs relate to the "Lunatic Passion" , songs like "Love or Confusion ", "Manic Depression is a Frustrating Mess", "3rd Stone from the Sun" ,"Purple Haze","I Don't live Today". So I cruise up Esplanade back to reality, passed by Mona Lisa road, the picture of the tall grass, Bayou St john bike path, see the movies, the Lakefront (empty) closed to cars, then back home. All is demure after St Anna's Asylum , we live within or without passion, I can visit the back side of my mind, how about you? Be careful some people don't come back..
gary
click on the pics to enlarge.
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