My Wife is Gone and She Took the Cheetos

My wife was off on a weekend visit to SE.La.

I opted out.

As soon as she was out of the driveway I tore for the door.

I didn't have a plan or purpose.

I envisioned my outing as more or less like mobile loitering.

Follow the gray line counterclockwise from Lafayette.

 It is getting warm.   I stopped at the shaded Gargil

Salt Mine overflow parking area after I'd refueled.

This is where I make sure everything is right before I engage in urban warfare.

That done, I'd go to my plan library, the Lafayette rail yard.

Reflecting, now I remember I did have a little plan. 

On the radio I'd heard that rail traffic was snarled.

There were several clogs. On major problem was 

that there were two long freights on the main headed

west within the yard and the crew for the lead train had been incorrectly scheduled.

They were very late considering the conditions.

I wanted to see this.

I first came to the second train in line headed west.  You can see its engine 

nosing up tightly to the black tank car of the first train in line.

 I don't know how long the Lafayette yard is, but a required switch was being covered which
 essentially paralyzed the yard, as I understand it, and understanding it was difficult. 

Communications were terrible.  The dispatcher, Mr. W., sounded like he was
drowning in an echo chamber.

The train radios sounded worse and weaker.  There were numerous times when warrants
had to be repeated over and over.

 First out would be the black stallions.

This local was waiting on the Crowley sidetrack to come into the yard at Lafayette.

I knew the two on the main at the yard would be evacuated first. That 

or there would be a heck of a detour. I know there is an alternate route though the yard
from the west.
Evidently, that was not an option.

I would have a fair amount of time to find a descent frame for my choo choo pictures.
Yes, I was devising a plan, a plan that would evolve as most do.
An "Evolving Plan" doesn't sound like a "plan" at all, does it?
Back to my "framing locations" evaluations.

What do you think?

As in the not so perfect shot below, I  think the train is enhanced, not diminished
by the addition of scenery.
The train becomes an interesting aspect of its surroundings without overpowering them.
That sounded like a wine or culinary description done by someone who'd sniffed
one too many decanters.
Possibly, or its a hangover from reading a piece done by a San Friskyian rail writer.

 

This is looking toward Crowley at the interesting aspect.

I'd run through town and take no shots which is either telling or was an act of pure willpower.

The jury is still out on that one.

The shot below was taken west of Crowley from US 90.

The white building is a Crowley rice mill. I believe "Mahatma" was once the brand name
written on its side.These pictures were taken with my card deck camera. 

They lack a  little quality, but for  a no budget blog, they'll do, another example of you getting 

what you pay for.

The inobtrusive rails are to the left.

The obtrusive guide line is also to the left.  Wires are my constant enemy.
I once did a "Prairie Castles" ride.  You can see how easily that idea was conceived.

 A website monitor has made a correction. Please learn from my mistakes.

 This place would have been great except that it is bear country, eh, Smokey.

I'd have my back to US 90.  I'd  feel prying eyes all the while I was there. 

 Next, I considered this building at Esther.  Notice its spur.

I've already come in contact with one of Esther's "finest"

That fella made the asinine Brookhaven Nazi look like Mother Theresa.

 But, there would be no time. I heard horns, jerked around

and here came Train One. Notice that I did include

Esther's signature water tower. Krotz Spirngs sports one exactly the same as do many old towns.

Your glasses are dirty. The picture is not blurred., clean them.
I just cleaned mine and I see that if I'd shot
a micro second sooner I'd put the "173" MP sign in front of the train.

 I hopped on the bike and chased this one. 

The miles between Crowley and Jennings are wonderful

for chasing trains. You can beat them and still have time to set up for a shot.

This was just short of Mermentau. He may have started slowing for the bridge.

I'll remind you that my strict rule for train chasing is that no law can be broken most of the time.

He headed on west into Mermentau.

 I rode the OST back to my favorite place at the irrigation canal.

The OST sits on the opposite side of the tracks from US 90, the new version of the Old Spanish Trail.

Most of it is gravel. East of Esther, a landowner has taken it over.

To the west, evidence of the old road gives up at Mermentau until it reappears somewhere.

 I can't complain about this place. I could take pictures of trains here all day

as long as I could  barbecue, drink a bunch of lemonade and listen to anything but grunge

hip-hop and rap. If you  join me and  put on anything from The Sound of Music, 

I'll tie you to the rails, Bullwinkle.

Forget about that gumbo pot candidate Rocky, he won't help you.

 What's cool is putting Vizine in your eyes when the container train goes by.

It gives you the same effect as I've heard acid does without afterwards having to live in a padded
windowless room wearing a straightjacket for the rest of your life. Remember there are safe, over the counter, alternatives.
I put a drop of Vizine on my camera lens to simulate the effect.

OK, use you hanky and straighten  up.

The train moved on and so did I.

 Having achieved clarity, it was time to study my favorite bridge.

The little camera somehow adjusted itself to being the equivalent of a computer
starting in Safe Mode.

Thusly,  the pictures are a little primitive.

I moved on back east to Midland  for a few more shots before exiting US 90.

 I decided to follow the old Midland to Abbeville Southern Pacific Branch south.

The hump to the right is the west arm of the connecting wye to the Louisiana Western (SP).

You do understand that the next time this road is "done", that hump will be done, gone, lost.

This is also the OST.

Here is Old Midland. To the left, across the street, is that west arm of the wye.
That explains why this street is not squared to the OST.

 Going south on Cushing's Southern Pacific.
Cushing was a dude, a true t..rail blazer.

 The birds didn't even look.

 Entering Morse, the pyramid house caught my attention.

 This is the  old Riceville bridge road which traversed Bayou QueueTortue.
Or, it might  have led to a ferry at one time. (notice "Riceville Bridge" on the old topo map below)

 This was the rail bridge.  I could see no sign of it in the water which was high.

 I have found several rail remnants in what were paved crossings. I'd find another one today. 

This one I'd found when I was riding the SP route "a while back".

 Below is the hump. I was now in Vermilion Parish. 

The altitude needle would be going into the single digits.

 The rails would cross La.91 below Riceville. (at La.714)
Below La.92, there is no way east until La.14, which makes a "long way round" if circling
to the east as I was.  I'd forgotten "how long".

There she goes south to Gueydan.

 Above Gueydan, I'd check out this hump.

 Sure enough, this was a new rail find.

 The bed would turn gently into Gueydan.

 Welcome to Gueydan, the duck capital of the universe.

Below is a Duck Feeder.  It is used like a deer feeder.

To the right of it  is a duck blind (the yellow building)  from where duck hunters 

can pop em when they land to eat.

They come in various configurations. 

Have you noticed that the adjoining buildings are all painted yellow?

Possibly ducks can't see yellow.

Whoa, an epiphany.  That's why  they call them "Duck Blinds".

 I left Gueydan and went to Abbeville.

You'll have to read "Cushings Child" for more on these towns. There's enough repetition on this blog.
I was headed east quickly on the Southern Pacific.
It was bumpy at first.

 Ever been to Wright, La? Now you have. Check that map, above.
"If you lived in Wright, you'd already be home," is on the white sign.
I've always enjoyed reading that.
It's kinda like, "If you were where you are, you'd be there".
If you think too hard about that you could become unstable.
I suggest moving on.

 I'd missed this on the SP ride.

 Oh Mercy!!!!

It had the classic Evangeline Maid bread doors.

 To this day, I will only eat Evangeline Maid or Bunny Bread.

 Rail doors in Kaplan.

 Kaplan was once a museum of the rice milling and drying industry.

Then an arson stepped in and, since the burned building was removed, I guess

the town wanted to get rid of all of the old steel mill buildings.
Hum? Makes you think.

Some people like Victorian, I love old steel buildings.

This water (?) whatever was close to the rails.

 I was in a mad dash to rendezvous with the Sunset Limited in New Iberia. 

I was on time and never saw it. I was also exhausted having been on the 

road for about 5 hours in the heat and wind. I blew off the rendezvous. 

I rode on home thinking about that half  bag of Cheetos I had left  from the night before. 

I'd get myself a Dr.Pepper or a Root Beer, settle down in my rustic recliner,

watch O'Reiley and throw stuff at the communist.

I couldn't find my Cheetos. 

I called my wife in SE La..

She admitted that she and my granddaughter had stolen them.

If this ride report has seemed a little "off", now you know the reason.
It is hard to produce classic prose while livid.
Update:
Last night, in retaliation, I ate all of her chocolate covered raisins.
Sorry, I'll have to excuse myself .... RIGHT NOW.