From Houston, TX to New Orleans, LA 
From Houston, TX to New Orleans, LA
Ending Mileage: 
Day of Travel
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Destination
Distance (in miles)
Distance (in kilometers)
Departure Time
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I'm very slow getting organized this morning. I think its the lack of a good dinner last night &endash; I feel like I am literally running on empty. I finally drag myself out and get on the road. I am frustrated that heart and soul of Houston has again eluded me. I should have tried harder. I feel bad about not finding a way to meet up with my friend Robert in Galveston. A review of yesterday yields two more trip lessons: 1) Even if you don't have a reservation have a good idea of where to look for a motel (particularly in larger cities). 2) Make the effort to meet up with the people that you know, this chance to meet or visit with a friend doesn't come often enough.
I fill the tank and head east on Interstate 610 and then rejoin I-10 just east of Houston. Traffic is crowded and there is a persistent strong wind coming from the south. The wind tends to push the bike across the road. To counter the effect of the wind, you have to literally steer slightly into the wind. On a motorcycle most turns are accomplished by subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, leaning over in the direction of the turn. As the wind rises and falls, I am constantly adjusting my lean angle to maintain a straight and true direction down the highway. I really appreciate the stretches of trees that act as windbreaks.
At Neches, I-10 crosses the Neches River on a very tall bridge. The winds combined with my vertigo were tough opponents to making it to the other side. A cool head prevails and I manage the crossing without dropping my speed too significantly.
At Orange, I stop for gas and a rest stop. Time for some postcards too. Another admirer wants to know what kind of mileage my bike gets. He has a friend that is selling a Valkyrie for dirt cheap and he is thinking of buying it. His wife seems even more enthusiastic about the prospective purchase.
A few more miles and I can say, "Good-bye Texas, Hello Louisiana".
It is lunchtime and I exit I-10 at Jennings. Jennings has the full array of American fast food offerings immediately off the interstate. Remembering my promise to avoid such places, I continue into the older part of Jennings. Within two blocks, I see off to the right the Rocket Drive-In. The Rocket Drive-In is a plain white building with a covered eating area extending from the kitchen. Cars are nosed into the eating area along both sides. Three red wooden picnic tables are already crowded with prospective diners waiting for their orders.
I give careful consideration to a Po' Boy, a crab burger but settle on a standard hamburger, fries and a glass of fresh lemonade. I stand around waiting for the burger because, and I don't know how to say this politely -- my ass hurts. Not painful like after sitting on a hard bench for a long time, but sore like diaper rash. Two nights ago, my bicycle-riding friend had warned me to 'take care of your ass'. And I did as he said -- the talc has definitely helped, but three consecutive riding days has taken its toll.
My order is called (#85) and I join a Dad and his son. They've already completed their burgers and fries and are now working on the soft serve cones. The two of them are savoring every lick of those cones. They're facing away from the table and don't immediately notice that I've joined them. Finally, Dad asks me about the motorcycle and we get started talking.
He's a native of Jennings, but went to Baton Rouge for four or five years to go to college. Nothing he says gives me any indication that he has ever left Louisiana. He offers that they are country folk and have taken advantage of good weather and a Friday afternoon to indulge in a great burger. He's right; the burger is very good. He is not the first and I don't expect him to be the last to ask if it is true that we have blackouts in California. "In this day and age and in California no less, who would have thought?" I couldn't agree more.
Back on the road, I decide to head east on US 90. Interstates are good for moving people and goods across country but not usually good for sightseeing. US 90 wanders through a series of small towns: Mermentau, Midland, Estherwood, Crowley, Rayne, Duson and Scott. Some are extraordinary. Crowley is the center of rice growing in the US. Duson is our nation's frog capital.
The rice fields, I don't think they can be called paddies in the US, are pervasive along this stretch of highway. I'm surprised by the bright green color of the rice plants. I knew that Louisiana and California were big rice producers but I had forgotten and was surprised by the huge elevators at the Mahatman processing plant in Crowley.
At Lafayette, center of oil and gas exploration in Louisiana, I jump back onto Interstate 10. Between Lafayette and Baton Rouge is the Atchafalaya Basin. The Atchafalaya is a swamp and there are few roads that make the crossing. Interstate 10 is a causeway for about fifteen miles. This is where most of the 'wild' crawfish come from. Three years of draught have reduced the productivity of this region and crawfish prices are high.
My ass (sorry) is still making me squirm and I can't get settled for more than a few dozen miles at a time. I finally stop at a rest area in the middle of the swamp to 'powder up'. Things are MUCH better.
Just before Baton Rouge, I-10 crosses the Mississippi. I decide to skip a side trip to the state capitol building because it is rush hour and I really want to get to New Orleans. I leave I-10 again at Louisiana 641 for gas at Gramercy. I take Louisiana Route 641 south to La Place before turning back onto I-10. When you look at a map, I-10 seems to run on solid ground all the way into New Orleans. I remember miles and miles of causeway.
The approach to New Orleans has a deja vu of arriving at Venice Italy except the scale is so much bigger.
Finding the hotel turns out to be tougher than I expected but in the end I prevail. I check-in, shower and head out to the French Quarter. The Quarter is an interesting place with unequal doses of real culture and art, adult entertainment, typical tourist schmaltz and crap and national chain stores. People gawk and stare at the shops advertising bottomless and topless dancing, leather novelties and drag shows. Its clearly not Peoria but everyone is getting the shock they require.
Bourbon Street is tamer than expected but a few hundred people try to make the magic happen. Beads are being tossed around but few breasts are uncovered. Everyone that is not throwing beads is watching intently for the first hint of breast.
I forget how late it is and neglect to have dinner. I search out the gay watering holes and have several beers at Lafitte's, Venture N and Rawhide. I like being able to take my cocktail along with me as I make my way from bar to bar. It's awful to get stuck between bars without booze when you're drunk. Finally, I decide it is time to throw in the towel and I head back to Canal Street. A Lucky Dog stand calls my name and I have a chili and mustard hot dog. YUMMY!
I realize that it is three o'clock in the morning -- past my bedtime. Tomorrow I'm in New Orleans for the day.
Depart Houston on Interstate 610 heading east.
At the intersection with Interstate 10, transition onto I-10 heading east.
Cross state line into Louisiana
Exit I-10 onto Louisiana 26 heading south into Jennings
Turn left onto Louisiana 3055 heading east.
At intersection with US 90, transition onto US 90 heading east.
At intersection with US 167, turn left heading north.
At intersection with I-10, enter I-10 heading east.
Exit I-10 onto Louisiana 641 to Gramercy.
Return towards I-10 turning right onto US 61 heading south.
In LaPlace turn left onto US 51 heading north.
At intersection with I-10, enter I-10 heading east.
Arrive New Orleans
