Blog

We’d planned on leaving Tuesday or Wednesday , but got so busy over the weekend that we knew we wouldn’t be ready to go. There was another four-day storm front coming in over the weekend, and we weren’t looking forward to being out in that, either.

Monday, Jo-Ann asked why we were leaving; asked if it was urgent that we go; and asked us to stay for a while longer. We need to increase our income (the rent income we’ve been relying on has been unpredictable), and we need a place to write our articles, e-books and trip book. We decided to say yes to staying.
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We’ve been under a severe thunderstorm warning for the last few hours, and we’re still under a tornado warning, but we’ve remained free of any excitement – in fact, the rain has just hit us and we think we’ll skip most all of it. North of us is taking a beating, though.

I’m in the living room checking weather online and catching up on news and blogs while Jo-Ann teaches Chelsea how to play dominoes out in the kitchen. I can hear the low rumble of conversation from the other room, punctuated by laughter and the sound of the dominoes clattering on the wooden tabletop.
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Around Oak Grove and Creole

After a hot shower and an incredible meal of rice and shrimp in a roux sauce that first day, Jo-Ann took us on a tour of the local area. Asking how we felt about pizza for dinner (the answer was affirmative), we headed west on Hwy 82 to see if the section of highway Donny had mentioned was navigable for us or not, and then we drove north and east on Hwy 27/82 towards Creole.

Jo-Ann kept up a running commentary on the areas, pointing out the damage from Rita and Ike, still a huge factor in local lives around here. We saw the Catholic Church in Creole being rebuilt after Rita, complete with gargoyles on the roofline; and we saw the local hospital with its automated door in the emergency room.
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As we climbed down to our bikes again to get some clothes, shoes, and shower items, a utility truck pulled up in the driveway. We’d seen the same truck a few minutes earlier as we stopped at another house down the road, and yet again back down at Grand Chenier. Rolling down the window, the driver began chatting with us.

Donny

We’d just met Jo Ann’s son, Donny. Having seen us on the road since Grand Chenier, he was concerned about the next stretch of road we’d be riding, and wanted to let us know it would be rough going due to road work. He suggested that we may want to backtrack and take another route.
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Once again our incredible luck has come through. We are in a private home in Oak Grove, getting closer to the Texas border all the time. We have Verizon Wireless signal, both cell phone and data, for the time since early last July. I haven’t used Internet since February 28 – it’s been so long I’ve forgotten how to use it!

The house we’re in is wonderful – it’s up on stilts – it survived both Rita and Ike, though Rita broke windows upstairs, causing an almost total loss upstairs of the contents; completely destroyed the downstairs living quarters; and Ike’s storm surge rose up dangerously high, washing away anything that was remaining downstairs.
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For our first day back on the road in quite a while – actually, for any day on the road – today was just about perfect. We did have a fairly stiff headwind, which slowed us down a lot, and we are out of shape for pulling the trailers, but the weather was gorgeous, the traffic was minimal, and the scenery was wonderful.

Nolan came out to watch us off – he seemed really sad we were leaving, and kept trying to talk us into staying. He was fascinated by our setup, and watched every move we made really carefully. He was especially fascinated by the shifting system and the way the trailers are hitched. We gave him a big hug, and promised we’d call him as often as we can until we hit Mexico. What an incredibly kind man he is!
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Day 4

We didn’t get much sleep last night. I worked until well after nine, so we didn’t feel we had time to watch a movie. We wanted to get lots of sleep and feel really rested, so we read for awhile and turned out the lights. The wind had already been whipping around, and we started seeing lightning, but sitting in the living room everything seemed pretty quiet.

It wasn’t until we got into the bedroom that we realized the storm was just hitting us at midnight. We lasted in bed about a half hour, lying quietly in the dark, but we finally couldn’t stand it any longer. The storm came from the northwest, and our bedroom is on the furthest northwest corner of the trailer, so we were getting the full brunt of it.
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We’ve now been at Nolan’s since Monday morning. It’s been quite an experience. Nolan starts drinking beer at about nine in the morning, and continues steadily throughout the day until he goes to bed. As he says, he doesn’t drink to get drunk, never has. At 71 years of age, retired from active duty in the oil fields, he’s still active and in great shape, though he no longer works full time anywhere.

He lives right on Hwy 82 in the center of Pecan Island surrounded by camps, other trailers, and the family homes of his mother (now deceased) and his younger sister. Born and raised in Pecan Island, he moved to Abbeville, about forty-five minutes up the road, for a number of years, but he’s been back here in Pecan Island for over twenty-five years now.
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It’s hard to believe that it’s been only four days since I’ve written, because it feels like we’ve been plunged into a radically different world overnight. Nothing seems the same except the fact that Chelsea and I are together and we still have our bikes and gear.

We worked steadily on Friday and Saturday getting our gear ready and organized. We re-packaged our food, Chelsea did the maintenance on the bicycles, and I finished writing the current blogs for both sites. I finished off all the photo albums as well, bringing us completely current.
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Rain and other weather

Rain kept us another week in Lake Arthur, so our leaving date is now Sunday morning. We are so glad we stayed! A cold front came through and stalled out, and it rained more from Thursday through Monday than we have seen the whole eight months we’ve been here.

When we arrived, we could see daylight under each section of the pier in front of the cottage. After three days of steady rain, the lake level rose enough to be lapping at the edge of the top of the pier.
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