The Juxtaposition

Riding Day 30 – 73.12 miles

I won’t bore you with the details of the morning, as it was nearly identical to all the other mornings when we camp. What I will tell you is that we’ve become much more efficient in breaking camp and getting everything ready for the day ahead. Practice makes perfect.

We started the day’s ride in Baton Rouge, the first mile or two on threadbare city streets. We passed through neighborhoods where the inhabitants were still waking up, many sitting on front porches and waving as we passed. It was cool, and the sky was a congregation of different shades of gray. We had to stop a few times to check our navigation, but eventually we found what we were looking for: a bike path of smooth asphalt etched into the top of the levee that holds the Mississippi River in check and keeps the city safe.

The path appears to be fairly new, and we mostly had it all to ourselves. The river itself looked placid and powerful all at once, a wide, brown, serpent of water that does little to hide its muscles. Barges, with powerful vessels pushing them along, wrestled against strong currents as they made their way upstream. In several places, the river had spilled from its banks, creating flood ponds where egrets and ducks dined on hidden delicacies. Large, dead trees congregated along the shoreline, some partially submerged, while others looked like skeletal hands trying to clutch at something unseen. The nuance of the Mississippi is endless, a mix of magic and danger, of death and birth, and seeing it in person is humbling and leaves no doubt in the observer’s mind that this river is alive.

The wind freshened as we rode atop the levee, and as much as I was enjoying the view, I decided to drop down to the road below, hoping it would get us out of the worst of the wind. It was a good call, and for the next 10 miles we rolled peacefully through fields full of grazing cows, beehives, and wildflowers, wood smoke clinging to every breath we took as we pedaled in silence, just two guys on a bike in the wilds of Southern Louisiana. And then a red fox, not more than a hundred feet in front of us, ran across the road and joyfully bounded up and over the levee, drawn I would assume, by the power of that mighty river.

But all good things must come to an end, and around the 15-mile point we turned onto a busy road with more poor-quality shoulders. The juxtaposition between the first part of the ride and this new road was abrasive and all too raw, the power and peace of the river supplanted by the rush of cars and the ugly roar of the infernal combustion engine. The wind roared in our faces, and all we could do was put our heads down and make the pedals go round and round in joyless fashion. During this segment we did, however, discover a very cool old-time general store with an amazing deli. I don’t know the store’s name, but if you’re ever in Louisiana at the intersection of Highways 74 & 75, make sure you stop in and see this place for yourself.

The rest of the day was spent fighting headwinds and dodging debris. And speaking of debris, any guesses as to what the most prevalent article we see on the side of the road might be, other than pieces of tire? You probably have several in your own home, including broken and frayed ones that you’ve stuffed into nooks and crannies rarely visited. It’s charging cables, in all colors and lengths. I probably see at least 100 each day lying on the shoulders, forgotten relics of what ails us, inanimate testaments to our insatiable need to stay powered up and connected. It's a little weird really, like, are people just throwing them out the window as they rush from point A to B, or is there some secret gremlin society out there at the heart of this madness, perhaps hired by the Tech Sector or Best Buy to ensure we keep mindlessly spending money. We also see a lot of banana peels.

Tomorrow, we have a comparatively short ride of 45 miles into New Orleans, ending at Jackson Square, which is also the terminus of Map Section #5. We’ll take Thursday off to indulge ourselves and relax, then hit it again on Friday. At that point we will only have 693 miles remaining, which might sound like a lot, but not to us. Good night my friends…