Let me just start this post by gloating about how happy I am to be in Florida!  We only have 8 cycling days left to go before this adventure comes to an end.  And all of us are thinking…..what are we going to do when it’s over?  We have a lot of time to think about it as we peddle along, and I have several good ideas.

Chris and I put out the breakfast and lunch fixings in the community center of the RV park, and we broke camp early to get in line at the ferry, which happened to be across the street from the campground.

The ferry took us 4.5 miles across Mobile Bay to Fort Morgan, Once we departed the ferry, we toured the Fort Morgan historic site together. Our destination tonight was the Oak Grove Camp Ground on Naval Air Station (NAS) Pensacola, and since only 4 of us have military IDs, the other 6 were going to need one of us prior military with them to get on the base. Our we now included Joe and Tom, who usually ride together.  Eric also started out with us, but he dropped back after lunch.

A little history here:  Fort Morgan was build on the site of the former Fort Bowyer, which was built after the War of 1812 to defend Mobile Bay.  In 1814, the British attacked Fort Bowyer twice.  The first attack failed, but in the second attempt, the American commander surrendered.  Before the British could continue taking territory along Mobile Bay, they received word that the war was over, so they withdrew.  Apparently, after the war of 1812, the US began a program to strengthen its coastal defenses and decided to build a better fortification at the same location.  Using slave labor to built the new pentagon shaped, masonry fort, construction was completed in 1834.  Fort Morgan came into play during the Civil War (the Confederates surrendered it to the Union), and both World Wars I and II.  Fascinating stuff, eh?

Once we left Fort Morgan, for most of the day, we rode on a long scenic peninsula that was so narrow, you could see the white sand and water on both sides from the road:  Mobile Bay on the north side and the Gulf of Mexico on the south.  There was a lot of open beach that looked untouched, but there were also a plenty of houses on stilts and tourist areas with high rise condos, seafood restaurants and shops.  Important to us was cycling on a nice bike path and/or wide shoulder the entire day, that made us feel  like we were on vacation too.  Oh wait.  We are.

When we reached Gulf Shores, the plan was that we would meet up with the rest of the group for lunch at a famous seafood restaurant–Lulu’s.  The others arrived before the place opened, so they ate elsewhere, leaving us with just a party of 5.  The food was delicious, but expensive, as in–I blew my entire food budget for tonight and all day tomorrow (we have a day off) on just one meal.  Dang it!

Back in the saddle, we continued down the peninsula till we reached FLORIDA!!!

About 16 miles later, we were at NAS Pensacola, looking for our campground. The natives became a little restless when they found out that there was no food available anywhere nearby, and that most of them couldn’t get to food or shopping without an escort. A few of us ordered pizza from Dominos, and a few others caught a cab to town to eat out. I was pretty wiped out, so after dinner I went to bed early.

 

We had breakfast in the clubhouse, this morning, after which I rode out by myself. 

And riding by myself, I could make decisions about the day’s ride without having to get consensus–like riding on I-10 for a few miles to cut out 4 – 5 miles of twists and turns in the route. The traffic was heavy, but I was rewarded with a recently paved smooth shoulder to ride on.

Interstates bypass small towns, so I missed Pascagoula and all of its shipyards and industrial sites, but I did cross the very very long bridge over the Pascagoula River.

Shortly after that, I crossed over into Sweet Home Alabama before rejoining the regular route which headed southeast toward Dauphin Island.

After passing through several miles of rural residential areas, I arrived in the Seafood Capital of Alabama–Bayou La Batre, which lies along the Mississippi Sound on the Gulf of Mexico.  

No, I didn’t stop for seafood.  I had been steadily munching on snacks in my feedbag and wasn’t hungry yet.  The town didn’t look like a seafood capital to me, but what do I know?  It just looked like a typical small town with old worn out buildings.

A few water crossings later, I was now on a narrow peninsula heading toward the 3 mile long high rise bridge that crosses over Mobile Bay to Dauphin Island, the Sunshine Capital of Alabama and the south most point in the state. 

As I pulled into town, Chris and Ed were heading my from the opposite direction.  They had arrived the island around 1:30 PM and were headed back for a bite to eat.  

I joined them for a late lunch at Captain Snappers, a great little seafood restaurant. We actually met and talked to Captain Snapper, an older gentleman who recently reopened the restaurant. The food was great, so I hope his new venture is successful. 

The island is very scenic, so don’t ask me why I took these photos. 

Chris and I had dinner duty, so from the restaurant, it was off to the grocery store to buy food for the next 3 meals. 

We cooked up rigatoni with marinara sauce, ground beef, green peppers, onions and garlic. The guys like lots of garlic in their food, so we gave it to them, and they loved it.

We stayed at the Dauphin Island Park and Beach Board, a public RV park with a spacious community center and super clean and modern restrooms and showers–the things that are important to us when we camp out.  No mosquitos would also be a nice feature, but we’re not holding our breath for that.

The ferry to Fort Morgan leaves at 8 AM, tomorrow, so we are all turning in early tonight. 

My Garmin would not synchronize with my phone, today, so couldn’t download any of the graphs. Here are the numbers for the day:

Distance: 52.9 miles

Average Speed: 13.29 MPH

Ascent: 638.1

Calories: 1056

It poured rain till 2 AM, last night, but we stayed toasty and dry, because our campground hosts let us ‘camp’ under covered decks and patios.  And when we awoke, the skies were perfectly clear again. Ready for another day of cycling. 

We got an early start on the day, and Chris joined us, which was a first.  For most of the tour, he has ridden alone and been the first to make it to camp.  But he seems to be slowing down a bit, now that we are nearing the finish. 

If you zoom into the photo above, you’ll see Rocket, the squirrel stuffed animal on the back of his left pannier wearing Mardi Gras beads.   He also carries 2 cooking pots, a bunch of group food in the white bag hanging from of the center pot and 3 cutting sheets.  Chris is the most helpful guy in the group–always offering a hand with dinner and clean up, and always willing to carry more than his share of the group gear and food.  One other thing about Chris is that everywhere we go, the dogs and cats all come to him, so we jokingly call him The Animal Whisperer. 

With 3 of us riding, we did not stop for as many photos and breaks and kept a faster pace, which was wearing me out. Chris was riding in the rear, and I believe he caused our first stop.  

As we rode past a huge pasture that was probably 75 yards deep, we heard high pitched whinnying coming toward us and fast little hooves heading our way. It was a little white pony trying to catch up to us, followed by 2 other ponies. In what universe do ponies run to people? They stuck their noses through the fence and wanted to be patted–because The Animal Whisperer was with us, I swear. 

Back to the ride, we had to rely on GPS data instead of our maps, today, because the campground we planned to stay in for the night was so far off the Adventure Cycling route.  The problem with that is that running GPS apps on your phone burns through the battery.  During the morning, we didn’t have many turns, so it was easy to remember what was coming up ahead. But in the afternoon, the route the Google Maps bike route had so many turns in it that I ended up pulling out a handlebar mount for my iPhone and plugging into my backup power supply so I could keep the map up and hear the navigation cues.  

I ended up splitting off from Ed and Chris in the afternoon and rode by myself into Biloxi and Ocean Springs.  

All he it’s stopped to eat out in the route, so I was the first to reach Camp Journey’s End, which is an RV Park, not a kids summer camp.  The park manager was super nice. She gave me a tour of the facilities, bought me a can of Sunkist Orange soda pop and showed me where she keeps quarters for the laundry. She left the community room open for us to blog and exchange photos later. 

Have I mentioned my voracious appetite?  I am a little worried about what is going to happen when I finish this ride and get back into my normal routine at home. Will I be able to throttle the appetite back when I throttle my activity back?  I bring this up, because lately, some of the best parts of my day involve food. 

That’s my lead in for today’s highlight:  Dinner at The Shed, a barbecue and Rhythm & Blues joint adjacent to our RV park.  

Our first clue that this was going to be a good meal was the local newsman in the parking lot, filming a segment on the Food Network’s visit to The Shed, which was underway.  

Ken ordered 3 large platters with a variety of meats and side dishes, and we had a feast.  Everything was prepared to perfection and was super delicious.  

While we ate, cameramen cruised around filming random customers, the owners and the food. There was also a little area where the producers were viewing the 2 camera angles and giving each other a lot of attaboys. 

 

I wished we had a restaurant like this in Phoenix, but after thinking that through, was glad we don’t.  I would want to eat there all the time, and eating out that much is not in my budget.  

After dinner, it was the normal night time routine:  Doing laundry while blogging and telling stories about our day, then off to our tents. 



Rain was forecasted for at least part of the day, today, so my rain gear was out and at the ready.  After breakfast, I started my day with a quick trip back to the Franklinton post office to mail my Halloween costume and the various stocking stuffers and gifts I purchased in New Orleans home.  

Then Ed and I rode out together on what was supposed to be an easy 50 mile day. Okay, easy but hilly. But why another hilly day?  Things were supposed to flatten out after Austin, and they did for a few days, but now we are back having hills all day long again. Straight, flat roads are boring, so some hills here and there do make a ride more interesting. Just not as many as we’ve been getting, okay?

The route basically followed country roads and passed through thick woods, timber cutting and clearing, farms, cattle, and small rural businesses, crossing swamps and creeks along the way. 

There were 3 memorable stops. Eight miles in, we pulled into our one and only town on the route–Bogalosa. Ed and I stopped for an early lunch, there, because there wouldn’t be any food or drink up ahead for the rest of the day.  In looking for a place to eat, we rode by the massive paper mill, the major employer of people who live in the area.  And if you’ve never been around a paper mill, you probably don’t know how bad they smell–they really stink. BLater, Eric told us the odor was so bad it made him wretch, to which I laughed out loud.  (There are the types of things we discuss at the end of our days.)

Our next highlight was crossing the Pearl River and entering Mississippi. 

Shortly after our photos, it started to sprinkle and never stopped until  we reached Poplarville, where it started raining.  

Two miles further we reached Haas-Cienda Ranch, the RV park where we planned to spend the night. 

As soon as we pulled up to the park office, it started pouring rain, and this is where the third memorable part of the day kicked in.  The owners of the park were over the top hospitable. To make sure we, our gear and our tents kept dry in the rain, they let us set our tents up in the covered area adjacent to the swim pool and a large covered deck on the left-hand side of the community center. They also put beverages out for us and allowed us to take over the community center. Later, they served up a delicious steak dinner.    

It poured almost continuously till we went to bed, so we were really grateful for all their accomodations. 

After sleeping less than 2 hours, last night, it was tough dragging myself out of my sleeping bag to be ready to get on the road by 5 AM.  For some reason, I couldn’t fall asleep in the car (my classic move) on the way back to St. Francisville either.  
After eating a hotel breakfast, I did my best to repack my things and get out the door as quickly as I could, but I was dragging.  We checked our maps for route options to reduce the mileage from 91 miles to something more doable, and came up with an 82 mile route. 

I know it’s hard to believe, but throughout the day, today, I got a lot of horn honking from passing vehicles. It being Halloween, I donned the costume I bought for myself in New Orleans and rode out with Tom C, as his normal riding partner, Erwin was tied up returning our return trip rental car.  

As we left town, we passed Rosedown Plantation, built in 1835 and restored in the 1950s and 1960s by a wealthy oil baroness.  It is now a State Historic Site, and the guys who stayed in town for our day off toured it. I wished I had time to stop and look around, but I was on a mission to finish a long day of riding and the place wasn’t open at 8 AM anyhow. 

I wish I had taken some photos of the scenery along the road for the first 20-30 miles. It was lush and green and just plain beautiful.  And it was also hilly. In fact, the entire day was surprisingly hilly. 

Fourteen miles into our ride we arrived in Jackson, a historic town named after Andrew Jackson. It is the home of both the state’s first insane asylum (sorry, no photos) and the Margaret Dixon Correctional Institute, aka prison.  As part of their rehabilitation, prisoners operate a working ranch and work on restoration projects around town. As a result, the buildings, fences and landscaping in town are all well maintained.  

Mural on the side of the fire station

Up the route another 13 miles, we were in the only other town along the route–Clinton, which is now the parish seat.  

The rest of the day, we wound up and down and around country roads, but never came across another real town until we arrived Franklinton. 

We stayed in a little motel, there, and ate out at yet another Chinese buffet.  Getting a little burned out in Chinese buffets and chicken fried steak, folks.   

In the past few days I came across some memorable Halloween displays to post today.  

Nothing like a good nights rest and a shower in a clean bathroom to get your day off to a good start.  Erwin and I set out early on foot to see some sights.  

We walked down Esplanade Street toward the French Quarter, and Tom C met up with us.  It was fun seeing and reading about many historic buildings and places.  

Museum recognizing the contributions of African Americans to the culture of New Orleans
Joan of Arc statue

After a little shopping spree in the French Market, some Halloween shopping on Dumaine Street, a little more sight seeing, and lunch in a busy little diner, we stopped to watch a few performers play in some of the clubs and on the street. There are so many talented musicians trying to catch a break in that town. 

Later in the afternoon, we all went separate directions, leaving me some time to myself to check out the art in the galleries and shops on Royal Street.  

Eric and I met up with Erwin at a club where another of his favorites, John Boutte, was performing   The venue was really cool and John Boutte was a great singer, but his 4-piece band was a little disappointing.  They looked like they were dead when they weren’t playing their parts.  No, in a coma. I am not exaggerating.  It was hard to watch. 

Then, John Boutte started looking for other singers to perform in his place, recruiting a jazz singer from the U.K. who was in the audience and a trumpet player who sings like Louis Armstrong. He sat down and played the tambourine with the UK guy and changed his clothes during the trumpet player. Seemed a little strange to me.  Somehow, I hung in there for the entire concert. 

We stopped to buy a thank you gift for Chris and Laura on our way back to their house, then turned in for the night.  

Tomorrow, we are hitting the road at 5 AM to get back to the hotel in St Francisville in time to get on the road for a 91 mile day.  I’m dreading the early wake up and 91 miler. 

Being in a room with Chris, it was lights out at 7:30 PM. Erwin and I had to drug ourselves up with a couple of Benadryls to fall asleep.  I can’t speak for him, but I can tell you that I fell asleep almost instantly and didn’t wake up till 6 AM. Did you do the math?  That was 10.5 hours of sleep!  It was amazing. 

At breakfast, this morning, the campers reported that the early morning temperatures dropped down to 31 degrees and that there was ice on their tents. There is no way I could have slept through those temperatures, so the motel room that cost me $15 was a great investment.

Erwin, Tom, Eric and I had hatched a plan to spend our day off in New Orleans. We would ride as quickly as possible to St. Francisville (50+ miles), check into a motel room to shower and park our bikes, then hop in a car with Tom C’s niece, Jill, who lives in New Orleans and was driving up to get us. In New Orleans, part of us would stay with Jill and the other part with friends of Erwin.  

I was under strict instructions not to stop and take photos, probably because I’m the slowest in the group, and we were short on time. So I started out a few minutes ahead of the guys in that freezing weather and pedalled my little heart out.  I was going 16 mph when Tom C and Erwin caught up to me on the bridge over the Atchafalaya River, where I had strict instructions from Ken that it would be unsafe to stop for photos, due to there not being s shoulder.  Busted. There was a shoulder, and I was taking photos.  (No regrets for being a disobedient 61 year old and refusing to be manipulated.) 

 

I rode with them for a while, and I was really pushing myself to stay up and even pass them.  Finally, Tom told me that at the rate we were going, we would get to our destination way too early. Sounded like permission to stop and take more photos. I had just passed a cool sign for Prayer Lake, so I made an immediate U turn and went back for it.  

From that point on, I rode by myself for the rest of the day and did what I wanted to do and stopped where I wanted to. 

The Prayer Lake sign was appropriate, because today is Sunday. I decided that today I would not turn on my IPod Shuffle, and instead I would sing hymns. It made for a better Sunday for me and remembering the words worked my brain a little. 

The next cool thing I came across was the Morganza Spillway, a massive water retention system designed by the Army Corps of Engineers and built in the 1920s to control flood water water from the  Mississippi and keep the river from changing its course.  The spillway, which to me looked like a 4000 foot long bridge, is actually 125 bays with gates that can be lifted to allow floodwater to flow into the Atchafalaya basin, swamp and/or river.  Levies surround the miles wide basin and everything else in the area that could be flooded by the Mississippi.  

Further down the route I passed through a couple of towns: Morganza and New Roads.  In Morganza, I was looking forward to riding along the Mississippi River, but guess what.  There was a tall levy along the river to prevent flooding–as far as I could see.  There was no riding along the river. 

 

About 5 miles after passing through New Roads, I came to the real Mississippi River crossing, the John James Audobon Bridge. 

Ten miles later I was at the hotel in St. Francisville getting ready for the trip to New Orleans.  

We showered and packed for New Orleans, then Jill arrived and we loaded into her car for the 2-hour drive.  Once there, Erwin and I spent some time with his friends, our hosts, Chris and Laura. They broke out their costumes and dressed us up a little before we left to catch a street car to get downtown.  

After eating dinner at a Seafood Festival that was going on down by the river, Erwin gave me a tour of the French Quarter. 

After eating dinner at a Seafood Festival, Erwin gave me a tour of the French Quarter and we stopped at Cafe du Monde for benniettes. 

 

Then we headed over to a little club named Chickie Wah Wah, where a musician he has seen perform in Amsterdam and really likes, Meschiya Lake, was performing.  She could really belt out the tunes and had a super talented 3-piece band backing her up.  We stayed for both sets and really enjoyed the music.  

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When the concert ended, we rode the streetcar back to Chris and Laura’s,made nests on the sofa and a futon, and hit the sack.  

And all that happened in one day starting with a 51 mile bike ride. 

It was an extra short 29 miler, today, due to our riding ahead yesterday.  I rode by myself and took my time during the 2.5 hour ride.  If you’re a road biker and you’re laughing at my speed, try riding a loaded bike that weighs closer to 70 lbs for 50 miles or so, sometime, instead of your 13-16 lb road bike.  

The route took us along two bayous and through three Louisiana settlements dating back to the early 1800s, with antebellum homes and massive oak and cypress trees.  

The scenery was  spectacular as we rode alongside Bayou Rouge, passing thru Evergreen and Cottonport. 

Next passed through Moreauville as we rode along Bayou des Glaises. 

The weather forecast for tonight is freezing temperatures, so three of us got a room at the one and only motel in town, which happens to be a complete dump of a 1-star motel. They don’t even try to clean the rooms.  There was about a years worth of dust on the dresser, the floors don’t look like they’ve been vacuumed in about a  month, and the shower and bathroom floors haven’t been cleaned in who knows how long. 

I walked across the street to take a shower at the truck stop the rest of our group is camping behind.  Pretty desperate, eh?  At least it was clean, and they had this really cool descenting soap I never even knew exhisted before. I wish I could say it helped keep the mosquitos away, but I don’t take chances with them any more.  I protect my exposed skin with 100 strength deet.  Still don’t have a third eye, so it can’t be that bad for me.  

Simmesport had a nice grocery, but our fearless leader insisted that we not cook healthy food and instead patronize the truck stop by eating their food to show appreciation for them allowing 6 cyclists to camp out back for free. After another triple fried dinner, with the only vegetable options being potato chips and French fries, I was not a happy camper–correction: cheap motel ‘guest’.

We will have to turn in early, tonight, because we’re in a room with Chris–the earliest to bed and earliest to rise of the group. Lights out will be 7:30 PM. Wish me luck falling to sleep.  

We got an early start today, because we all wanted to outrun the rain.  If you remember, we originally were planning to stay in the campground at Chicot State Park. Two of the guys had already made reservations at the town 11 miles short of the park. Ken made reservations for the rest of us at the town 13 miles past it.  

While we were eating breakfast, the sweetest white Labrador retriever joined us to ask for food. He was a healthy looking boy, and he had good manners.  He didn’t beg, he just sat and waited.  In about 35 minutes, he only scored 2 cookies from us before giving up and heading over to a donut shop.   

I rode out last with Ken behind me, and was flying down the road when I realized that I had left my water bottles in the refrigerator of my room– a 2.5 mile mistake.  You know, I already did that once on this tour.  Duh.  But it was so cool outside with nice cloud cover, so a little more riding didn’t bother me.  

About 7 miles into the ride, I saw a dog up ahead in the road. It was that white Lab from breakfast.  He ran alongside me for over 2 miles.  I seriously did not know how to get him to stop running with me.  I sped up, and he sped up. He was too smart to fall for the fake throw. Later, I learned that he ran 7 miles with Tom C and Erwin and 6 miles with Ken.  He also ran with Tom R and Joe, but we won’t know how far till we meet up with them tomorrow. We all felt bad when we realized how much we put him through.  I am not in the market for a dog, but if I lived here or nearby, I would take that big boy home.  I will not be able to forget him.  

After over 2 hours of peddling, when I reached Mamou, I was ready for a break. A couple of bikes were parked outside of the Krazy Cajun Cafe, so I parked and settled in for an early lunch of a tasty Cajun burger.  

 

Turns out that Mamou is a Cajun music town.  Too bad we didn’t we didn’t stay there, because it has a lot of fun looking eateries, and at night, there are at least 3 different places with live Cajun music on week nights and more in weekends.  

I rode out of Mamou with Ken, and he stuck with me for the rest of the day. We passed rice and sugar beet fields, and more pine tree farms and cattle ranches as we made our way through Ville Platte on the way to Chicot State Park.  

 

We also passed at least 5 cemeteries with raised vaults to keep the graves from floating away when it floods and/or to keep them from floating because the water table is so high.  They sure put a lot into their grave sites around here.  Makes me appreciate how clean and simple we keep them in Arizona.  

Chicot (pronounced chee-koh) State Park was really cool. It has a lake, swampy areas, tall trees everywhere and hilly roads winding through it. We stopped by the two campsites Ken could not get a refund on, and were glad we didn’t stay there.  The bathrooms were nice, but the campsites had so much slope it would have been very uncomfortable trying  to sleep there. Still, it was a beautiful spot.

I haven’t mentioned rain yet, because so far, we hadn’t seen any. The road leading to the park was wet, because it had ben rained on before we  got there.  As we left the park, the skies looked pretty threatening.  Thabkfully our route changed directions 5 miles into our last 3 miles, and we picked up a nice tailwind that pushed us into Bunkie.  

 

The rain held out until half hour after we checked into our rooms, then it let loose.   

Neal and I had dinner/breakfast/lunch duty, so we donned rain Jackets, emptied my panniers, and walked a half mile to Piggly Wiggly for groceries.  We picked up salad fixings, fresh fruit and ice cream for our dinner and a bunch of other food for breakfast and lunch. After unloading all the food in my room, we made the salad, then Neal headed over to a Cajun Chicken place across the street to pick up fried chicken, dirty rice  and red beans with rice. The feast was a huge hit.  

When the rain hit, Eric was looking around Chicot State Park, so he arrived the motel long after we had finished eating. While he ate dinner, we worked on a plan for a trip to New Orleans with Tom R and Erwin during our layover in St Franciscille, LA.  

Our day began with another delectible breakfast prepared and served by our trail angels, the Merryville Historical Society. With Eddie at the skillet, another generous multi-course feast was served up. We hated to leave Merryville, but we are on a schedule.  

Our group is now down to 10 people, after Rich’s decision to finish the ride on his own.  We left town in our normal order, though I left alone a few minutes after Ed. The riding conditions were perfect:  cool temperatures, clear skies, very little wind, gentle grades, a nice shoulder to ride on and polite drivers. What more could we ask for?

I was never able to catch up to Ed, so I tuned into some music and rode alone.  Today’s ride passed first through the eastern part of Beauregard Parish, then through the western part of Allen Parish, and ran into only two towns—the county seats of both parishes.  In Deridder, Tom C and Erwin passed me as I shot a few photos. 

The terrain throughout the day was just like West Texas, but without all the hills:  Pine tree farms, cattle ranches, many little creek and river crossings–some with white sandy beaches, and lots of tall trees.  

We stayed in the Oberlin Inn in Oberlin, the parish seat of Allen Parish. There was no laundry facility at the motel, so I rode to a nearby laundromat, and was lucky there was no waiting for the only washer and dryer that actually worked out of 7 washers and 8 dryers.  

The discussion at our map meeting was dominated by tomorrow’s weather forecast.  Three of the guys have already reserved hotel rooms in a nearby town, because there is a 100% chance of rain, off and on, all day tomorrow, and temperatures of 31 degrees expected tomorrow night while we camp out in Chicot State Park. I have faith that Ken will not put us in a dangerous situation. Guess I’m about to find out.  

Last night was so cold!!!  It got down to 39 degrees, and my sleeping bag is rated for 35 degrees, but believe me, it did not keep me warm. I want my money back, but it’s too late for that.  Tonight will be even colder, so I will be wearing all layers of my clothes to bed, tonight, with hopes they will keep me warm.

I have to keep bragging on the Merryville Historic Society. Last night’s dinner was just the beginning of what they were going to do for us. This morning, Paul and Marion, one of the younger couples in the group, brought in a large camp stove, a griddle and bunch of cast iron skillets, and cooked up a huge breakfast of hot cakes, sausages, bacon, boudin, scrambled eggs, county fried potatoes, rolls and juices. We thought we had died and gone to heaven–again. 

Other folks left trays of cold cuts, fresh vegetables and cookies for us to eat for lunch, today, and the group put on another large dinner of red beans and rice, cole slaw, corn bread, and peach upside down cake this evening. Again, I am amazed by their generosity and hospitality.

Today, other than sleeping in and eating all the food and desserts set out for us here, all I did was bring my blog up to date, look around the museum and talk to the various members of the Historical Society who dropped in throughout the day to bring more food and just be friendly.  I never took a nap, but am about to go to bed early, so that’s okay.

After saying our goodbyes to Jennifer Exum, our wonderful hostess, last night, we hit the road for the relatively short ride to Merryville, Louisiana.  All the Texas hospitality and scenery we enjoyed were an unexpected surprise that made a huge impression on most of us.  We’ll miss it, but it is time for another state.

Not being in any kind of rush, we stopped at the Wal-Mart Super Center to pick up a few items, before starting our ride with Chris, Tom C and Erwin.  They quickly dropped us and rode ahead, which, as I’ve said before, is fine with me.  They keep a faster pace, and there is no point in burning myself out to stay up with them.  

The ride was pretty nondescript most of the day.  A headwind sucked the energy out of us as we rode on a 4-lane divided expressway from Silsbee through Evadale, Buna and into Kirbyville. 

We passed ranches and tree farms most of the day before entering Louisiana
Once we turned east in Kirbyville, the wind changed to a crosswind with a bit of a tailwind, and that definitely reduced the amount of effort required to move down the road.  But now we were on a narrow 2-lane logging road with no shoulder, so we were being blown off the road by fast-moving logging trucks that were sometimes only pulling over a few feet to pass us. 

We made great time to the Sabine River, which is also the Texas-Louisiana border.

After riding thru 5 miles with swampy land and muddy creeks on both side of the road, we arrived in Merryville.  

A former thriving lumber town, it declined when the logging industry finished clearcutting all the timber in the area to ship out for use in the Northeast.  Who came up with that business plan?
The town is now occupied by people who have lived here their entire life and want to keep the community going. And it’s hard to keep a declining community going, but they are succeding. The Historical Society is their way of collecting and displaying items with historic value and sharing them with other local people and people passing through town–people like us.  They welcome bicyclists who are passing through their town and let them camp out on the property.  In addition to that, they built and furnished a guest room and a bathroom/bath house building for guests to use too. 

Tom R set his tent up on the porch of a historic cabin. That’s the museum on the right

It is a very impressive organization, and what is even more impressive is that they do all of this just to share their community with people from outside the area–not because they are athletes or cycling enthusiasts, but because they have good hearts and want to share their Southern Hospitality.

Tonight, members put on a wonderful dinner of gumbo, rice, potato salad, fresh rolls, all kinds of cookies and pies, and bread pudding.  We thought we had died and gone to heaven. Eddie, the President of the Historical Society, stood up and told us the history of the town, and it was fascinating.  After Paul said a blessing on the food, our hosts all sat down and ate dinner with us, and we really enjoyed their company. The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me, and I’m feeling a responsibility to pay it forward when I get home.  

Historic Society members: Stephanie, Eddie, Marion, Renee, Paul, Kathy and our Erwin

I have really good sisters. It sure was nice having Janette down for a visit yesterday, and I really appreciate her putting in the 10 hour round trip drive to see me. 

After dinner, I showed her around to the various rooms and cabins the group was staying in, and the three bathrooms, one of which was entirely outdoors.  She ran me to the store to pick up a few items the guys with lunch duty today had forgotten, then we settled in to go to bed.  We laid in bed and talked for a few hours, then fell into comas, at least I did, and woke at the crack of dawn for the normal breakfast routine.  We were able to spend a little time together before I had to start riding. It was going to be another 60+ mile day.  

Ed and I rode out together and swore that we were going to take it easy today and not push ourselves.  The riding conditions were great, with much less hill climbing and not much in the way of wind.  Hallelujah!  We caught a break. But today, weather wasn’t the problem–dogs were.

Riding out the 1.4 mile lane from Shepherd’s Sanctuary to the main road, we encountered a pack fo 5 dogs that took chase.  Ed was in front, so they were after him.  We pedal, pedal, pedaled, and somehow, none of them bit either one of us, but one of them did manage to get his paw under Ed’s front tire, and yelped up a storm.  Poor thing. I felt sorry for him, and if he hadn’t been acting like he was going to hurt us, I would have gone back to make sure he was okay.  But at that moment?  No way!

We had easy riding all day long as we passed through several little towns, rode along side the Trinity River National Wildlife Refuge, and crossed the Trinity River, several creeks and bayous.  

At one point, Ken caught up to us as we were taking a break and rode ahead of us.  

Just when he got a couple of blocks in front of us, a couple of dogs ran out to chase him.  Ed and I could see the writing on the wall for another dog encounter.  

Pulling out my mace for the second time ever, I switched it into the ready position, and sped up to try to out run them.  There was no oncoming traffic, so I moved across the road, in case they had some sort of mental boundary in their head that would keep them from crossing the center line.  Luckily, once the dogs got through chasing Ken down, they veered off to the right and didn’t even try chasing us, and we survived to see another day.

There were two highlights in the day, both involving food and hospitality.  The first was our lunch in Kountze.  A man in a grocery store parking lot told us about the two restaurants in town, both of which are a block from each other, so we rode down and chose the one with the most cars in the parking lot–Mama Jack’s 

Ed ordered a burger and fries, and I ordered what everyone else in the place was eating–the $10 lunch buffet. I passed on the fried chicken and country fried steak–I’ve already broken records on the number of times I’ve eaten that on this ride. Instead, I sampled all the home cooking, of which there was a bounty. All kinds of veggies, salads, breads, and deserts. I hated stuffing myself, but had no regrets. It was delicious.  

Before we left, I attempted to gas up my bike with the pump next to the cash register.  Do I get points for trying?  
We rode on to Silsbee where Ken’s deceased brother’s widow lives with her 12 year old daughter.  This may sound a little odd, but she had invited us to camp out in her front yard, and we really appreciated being able to be at a home, instead of an RV park.  

She opened her home to 10 hungry, sweaty cyclists, and let us shower, do our laundry and charge all our devices, and on top of all that, she prepared a fabulous dinner of chili, salad, homemade bread and cornbread, and cake for us.  We enjoyed talking to her, and she and her daughter were entertained by our stories.  

All of us turned in early and slept like puppies.

Three things were going in today. Foremost and of greatest importance was the fact that my sister Janette was driving down from North Richland Hills, a 5 hour drive from the Ft. Worth area,  to spend the night with me.  The second was that it was going to be a pretty long ride today–64+ miles, and the last was yesterday’s rainfall prediction was now a certainty, with rain expected at 8 AM.  

Sweet talking the owners of Mexican Hills Ranch, they gave me permission to set my tent up under the pavilion, so that if it rained, it wouldn’t get soaked and would be easier to pack up in the morning.  

So I set an extra early alarm, with hopes of packing up and getting on the road before the rain hit, but it rained a couple times during the night (glad I was under the pavilion). As I was taking down my tent, the heavy rain arrived along with high winds. I was the only person under the pavilion, and several folks had gear under there, so a lot of it was getting blown away.  While trying to hold onto my own gear, I was catching other people’s things before they totally blew away to Neverland.  

It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to get under the pavilion to secure their gear. At that point, all 10 of us moved into Ernie’s man cave to wait out the storm.  

Some of these guys come from places where it rains a lot, so they’re accustomed to riding in the rain, but this was also an electrical storm, so no one was going anywhere until the nearby thunder and lightening stopped.  
Also rearing to go was Tom C, whose  sister from Houston was meeting him in Shepherd at 2 PM. He, Chris and Joe left when the lightening stopped, but before the rain and thunder stopped.  

Me? Not taking any chances.  I want to live to see my grandkids grow up.  I called my sister and told her I’d be running late and probably wouldn’t be to our destination till 5 PM. No big deal–she is totally flexible. I have rain gear, but no way was I going to ride in all out rain with rolling, rumbling thunder, so I waited.  

The rain had pretty much let up when I started riding a 10:19 AM, and by then I was under the gun to cover some ground.  I rode by myself, stopping only to down a few bites of food and give my sit zone a rest every hour or so, and to take photos, of course. The rest of the time it was pedal to the metal. 

My route passed through the Little Creek Wilderness, into and out of the Sam Houston National Forest, over Lake Conroe (did you catch that Lisa Hatch?), and through an unnecessary detour, as I entered New Waverly, that added 2-3 miles onto my ride.  

The entire day, threatening rain clouds hung overhead as if rain could start falling any second, and for most of the day there was a bit of a headwind as I passed through Pumpkin, Evergreen, and into Coldspring.  The road changed directions in Coldspring, and the wind became a partial tailwind for the rest of the ride into Shepherd.

Thankfully, I managed to arrive Shepherd’s Sanctuary before Janette did, so I had time to meet Tom C’s sister and enjoy snacks she brought, look around a little, and get my shower in.  Janette arrived just in time for dinner, and it was so good to see my sister!

Shepherd’s Sanctuary, is so obscure that even locals don’t know about it. A couple of ladies built it to accommodate family groups, but now open it up for weddings, bike groups and other functions. The place is a funky collection of little cabins decorated with a menagerie of eclectic decor (see above) 

Per Ken, we were only paying $10-20 a night for each cabin, so I had warned Janette to bring her own bedding and towel and to be prepared for creepy shared bathrooms.  We were pleasantly surprised at how clean the place was and that all linens were provided.   We had our own cabin with a comfortable queen sized bed–sheer luxury for me. 

The purveyor, a gal named Peach, showed us the setup underway for the big Halloween party she throws every other year. She has an entire barn full of Halloween decor she and her partners are in he process of putting out. Wow! That will be quite the party!

What is the eastern boundary of Texas hill country?  Someone please tell me.  

Last night, we slept in a spot that was muggy and mosquito infested.  To survive being outside our tents, we had to be coated in 100% Deet, so by the time I get home, I may have a third eye. We’ve been told that they get worse as we move east from here.  

We went to bed expecting rain this morning and were pleasantly surprised that the weather forecast was wrong. The rain never materialized, and I nstead of rain, we had cool temperatures and clouds, but humidity that was off the chart.  We were drenched in sweat the entire day, especially when the sun came out of the clouds and it heated up.  On a related note, at least 4 of our group have had an increase in leg cramps in the last 24 hours, and we theorize that not drinking enough water in the humidity is the cause. 

Today’s route was about 60% bucolic country lanes and 40% highways. Hitting the road at 7:55 AMs, Ed and I pulled out of the RV park with Tim C and Erwin, but they immediately ditched us. So we rode on. Within an hour, we caught up to Joe and Tom R, who were enjoying some extended country lanes.  

About half way into the ride, we pulled into the town of Independence, home of Sam Houston and the place where Baylor University got its start.  
What’s left standing of the entry to the original Baylor, and what it used to look like back in the day

We spent some time roaming around the “ruins” of former buildings and reading their stories, then stopped for treats at the grocery store–the only historic building that is still in use.  

A couple of hours later, we arrived Navasota and Miller’s, the local ice cream place.  We needed a break, and ice cream was calling out to us. 

I didn’t know how I was going to get Ken and Ed out of that place.  They each had a 3-course snack, then Ed started dozing off, then I started sizing off…..that’s when we knew we needed to get back on the road again. 

Several dozen long, steep, painful hill climbs later, we passed through Anderson to catch their Confederate monument. How much longer do you think it will be allowed to stand across from the courthouse?  

Still more crazy hills later, we pulled into Checkpoint Harley @ Mexican Hill Ranch, our destination for the night. The owners, Doris and Ernie, had two huge ice chests of Gatoraide and water waiting for us under a pavilion, and tables and chairs set up for us to cool off on.  This was going to be a great stay. 

While I was showering, Cathy and Cindy, two gals who rode the Southern Tiet last year, brought us homemade lasagne and spinach salad for dinner.  It was fun sharing stories with them. Then we buttoned down tight for a storm expected to arrive during the night.