Baton Rouge Trip 2017

.May 16, 2017,,, Riding to Baton Rouge to visit Cousin Paulette, her Husband Louie and my Uncle Elster, Paulette and Louie were flooded last year, their living in a FEMA trailer, rebuilding their house, its a long road , their holding up well.  Monday night I prepared bike, loaded provisions for 2 days, including Gatorade, 4 PBJ's, other food,  clothes, first aid kit, spare parts, tools, camera, phone, power packs,  water, sunscreen, binoculars, wet ones, sunglasses, etc, reset the computer on  bike to zero. Tuesday morning I get up at 6, oil chain, air up bike tires , don backpack, check the bike odometer , whoa, it has 3.9 miles on it , either, I rode in my sleep in the middle of the night, or something weird is going on , imagine that ?. The sun rose, as expected, inspiring sunrise, I faced the east for peace and encouragement, temperature was comfortable, no rain expected, my body and mind , prepared,  heaviest load I've carried this distance. Helmet, gloves, sunscreen , headphones, MP3 blasting "Three Doors Down",  I think an appropriate song ,"Its not my Time", step into pedal suicide straps, install "Green Lantern Ring", away we go, West Napoleon to Roosevelt to Airline Highway, that's it , no more turns.  Feeling good, pumping consistent, not aggressive yet deliberate, traffic's not bad, we cross the 310 intersection safely, first challenge accomplished, next,  the chemical corridor,  I think the extra sulfur gave me an edge the entire day , across the Spillway Bridge, took inventory of the neat debris on the shoulder, once across, time for a Papa Romero break (about 16 miles) , rode the wooden ramp into swampy depths, quiet, humid, solemn, scary, great ,  back to the highway, I hadn't realized they raised the truck speed limit to 470 miles an hour, whizzing past me like I'm going 20 miles an hour, I was.. A slight tail breeze kept me spinning 16 to 20 miles an hour. Knocked out town after town, Laplace , Reserve, Garyville, Gramercy, Sorrento, (Founded by Ulysses and Dedicated to the Cult of the Sirens), right, song after song pounding my psyche ,  from "Caruso to Eminem", from "Beatles" to "Alice in Chains" and all point in between. Right now its "Nickelback" just after "Creed" and "Staind", keeps my head bopping, my mind forward, my legs pumping. Road surface , bike tires, chain, gears, handle bars all transcend reality and in unison with the riders soul push forward Gatorade after Gatorade , mile after mile, pump after pump, the bike and rider in zen like state, the bike, the psyche working together in spiritual , physical and mental completeness.   By now I've reached endorphin high as a kite, I'm just floating along, an innocent bystander to the bigger than life experience laid before me.  I'm just a flea on the back of of a pit bull attacking a herd of buffalo, what a ride.. The road is long, the course is straight, the intention is true.  It's warming up, I'm sucking down Gatorade's one every 45 minutes as prescribed, eating pbj's , oranges, cookies, cheese, at will, early afternoon, well ahead of schedule.  Beautiful shoulder disappears, more attention needed , riding in the right lane of traffic,  can feel the blow-by air pressure from the trucks streaming by at 470 miles an hour, most give me some leeway, some have imminent domain issues, try to see how close they can get , no consequence for hitting a biker, cars and pickups stare at you until they head straight for you then veer off at the last minute, keeping in mind the number of  vehicles that pass it's only a small percentage that this occurs, most are courteous and give plenty room, some wave, blow the horn, some even stop and ask if I need a ride..Stopping to take a phone photo, my method of letting everyone at home know I'm alive and progressing,  I note my phone somehow searching the internet , the subject line says, "Stations of the Cross", holy shit Batman, I didn't do that, consequently , I nudge over to the right more, much as possible.  Stop at a canal bridge for a Papa Romero, I find a dozen or so fish stripped to the bone, carcasses strewn about, looks like the work of a Chubracabra,  lets do business and head out , got some road shoulder back, smooth sailing, time for some Bruno Mars, "Uptown Funk",  still wondering about the "Stations of the Cross", scary.. Entering East Baton Rouge Parish, pusssisssisss, my rear drops 2 1/2 inches, flat tire, big ass screw right in the center, nothing to do but find a big shady oak tree, take it all apart , replace the tube, patch the tire , put it back together , get back on the road, an old proverb states, "If you don't have an occasional flat tire, your not riding enough".. Into Baton Rouge the traffic is Baton Rougist, bumper to bumper, full speed ahead, worked my way to Sherwood Forrest to Old Hammond Highway to my cousins subdivision and looked for the FEMA trailer, I was glad to see them , 72 miles , relieved and proud of the trip I just made, it's only about 3:30. I'm covered with road dust , thirsty , tired.. Cousins made me feel at home, I cleaned up, we visited uncle at nursing home, back at the trailer , we ate, got the bike ready for tomorrow, packed up, talked of our younger years, talked of family, talked of future, I slept on the sofa, got rested, then at 6 am Wednesday morning we do it again.. Louie was nice enough to get us some eggs and biscuits, got packed, got directions, got gumption, said many thank you's and goodbyes,  Back on Sherwood Forrest, Harrell's Ferry Rd. then Airline, traffic was morning traffic, thick, aggressive, once I reached Florida Blvd things got smooth,  big shoulder, but unlike yesterday  the wind that helped me now beat me in the face, 10 or 12 miles an hour , slow going , but steady and smooth. Legs are good, yet tasked, vision is odd, colorful, clear, bright, though at the same time marred, surrealistic, daring, insightfully perceptive, I push on .  The smell of home drives energies that are not in the "Everything you need to know about cycling book ",  homing in on the finish blinds any fears of disaster, tragedy, or failure.  I am ruthlessly pursuing a trophy that exist in  my mind only, my own pat on the back, a self glee of accomplishment. Time and miles are slower today, I push without concern, same towns in reverse, same Papa Romero's in reverse, same successes only on reverse.  Get through the short and nonexistent shoulders early in the day, hoping for good Omens, stop for a Papa Romeo under a bridge out of Gonzales, no problem, grab some grub out the bag, throw my leg over the cycle, then, left foot slipped into a hole, no, lost balance , no , felt like someone stopped me from going over, yes, fell back on my ass on the edge of Airline, I was alone,  got up quickly, regrouped , remounted, then noticed my Green Lantern Ring was gone, didn't have on my "St Michael the Archangel Jersey I wore yesterday, what can befall me next.  Gramercy, getting tired, eating and drinking more than yesterday, taking too long , Stopped in Sorrento (Founded by Ulysses and dedicated to the Cult of the Sirens) catch my breath, working hard, weather still beautiful, still feeling good, sense calories and fluids not keeping up. Push harder against the wind, listening to "Grand Fund Railroad " for inspiration , then "Alice in Chains" to get tough..The road on the return side is healthier than going north, Gramercy, catching my breath, drinking all I can, eating all I can, need to drop some pack weight, total trip was 16 Gatorade's, 6 waters, every 10 miles I must drink 16 to 20 ounces of fluids. Midday has passed, pushing the clock now, music keeping me going, take a long stop at Stomp's Convenience  Store across from Zapp's Chip Factory, I'm a regular, the lady at the counter say's "Hey Mr Gary","Where to this time?", "Back Home", 'I Hope",  I get some cold , cold water and ade, douse myself to lower core temp, drink plenty, load pockets, play with the Parrot outside , get him to Wolf Whistle, and as always wonder why the crickets don't escape from the box.  From here the road is excellent, yet I have to deal with dwindling calories, I've eaten but takes too long to turn into energy, I whip out a trusty protein bar,  crank up more "3 Doors Down" ,  "Let me be Myself", yeah let me be myself, out the box, the guru of transcendental cycling, the Lord of noetics , the master of insightful nonsense,  the King of Samoa,  endorphins are roaring by now.  Garyville, no relation, then Reserve, Marathon Oil refinery, War Veterans Home, little over 20 miles to go ,  bang, I hit the wall, no more calories, legs clammy, arms dry, not thirsty or hungry, it's the onset of dehydration, been there, drink more and more, faster and faster, no use, it has to get in my system.. Stopping to visit my friend Earline ( sweetest,t gorgeous, lady )  at the Chevy dealership may have saved me , stopped and talked to her a while, walked into the air conditioning, relaxed, felt rejuvenated, back on the road. Fighting the Laplace traffic, some sections have no shoulder, locked horns with a tanker truck, only one of us could use the right lane, I have plenty drink but it's not keeping up , it's getting on 4 o'clock, make it to the spillway picnic area,  finding a big shade tree, I unload everything off my person, enjoy the breeze, drink slowly, relax, it's only 14 more miles, I got it , just have to push out this wall, drink is catching up but the promise of relief is met with additional anguish.  I'm burning muscle no calories available, lactic acid only, I'll get it back at the gym, spent about 45 minutes there, back on airline, Destrehan, I can smell home, do I take the River or stay on Airline, airline in rush hour is fast and furious, especially when the plants let out,  River run is  safer yet miles longer, I stay on Airline, cross 310, I'm driven now,  time to play some "I'm coming home" by "Alvin Lee and 10 Years After", followed by "And When I Die " by "Blood Sweat and Tears".  I spot the Airport, nothing can stop me now, last 3 songs "'Vesti la giubba from Pagliacci performed  by Caruso ", "Attack of the Valkyries by Wagner", and "Born to be Wild by Stepphenwolf",  I'll crawl in on hands and knees from here if necessary, bragging rights are mine,  traffic around the airport is wall to wall, I don't care I'm 5 miles from home, turn left at Williams , through neighborhoods to Roosevelt, West Napoleon to Glenn st, up the driveway, dismount , take a deep breath, whew !, what a rush, what a ride, what a life, my life, my adventures, my triumph's. I  start to unload , place my pack on the bench next to my Green Lantern Ring that was waiting here for me, another enigma to solve...144 miles ... Next trip, Gulf Coast..

2 videos embedded in Picture section

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Video on Airline Hwy Ride

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Video Link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7a7CJ1hANiU&feature=youtu.be

Note;:: Papa Romeo , Personal Relief...

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Arrival at East Baton Rouge Parish..Bayou Manchac

Great Omen,, dead red striped snake at start of trip..

Beautiful photo in spillway

Taking a break in Spillway..

Ready to leave the Spillway

Attempting a Joey Chassion Smile..

Looks like a Chubracabra feasted on  trout.

World Famous Zapps Factory.

World Famous Stumps Convenience store

Great View, great shoulder

My Steed takes a break

Picturesque

Blind River

Blind River

Bayou Manchac in Baton Rouge

Gonzales City Limits

Sorrento

Joey Chassion Smile.

Never, Never , Never take on a large challenge without a "Green Lantern Ring"

Oh Oh,, even with Green Lantern Ring a screw can stop the action.

Had to dig it out and patch the hole in the tire.

Cousins Paulette and Louie

Oh, it's me ...

Me and Paulette and Louie.

Tried to use my Green Lantern Ring Powers to Stop this Truck, didn't work .

There's a Joey Chassion Face..

That's just me ..

No shoulder.

Don't know who took this picture..

Camera Crew took this one

Stopped st Stumps on the way back..

This is the Parrot at Stumps,, he'll wolf whistle if you ask him .

Trained Crickets, they never leave the box..

Well needed rest in the Spillway picnic area..

That's an I'm almost home look .

Resting in Spillway..

 

Can't go through Laplace without visiting my friend Earline ...

Trying to get the Parrot at Stumps to Whistle. 

East Baton Rouge Parish, almost there..