** Tracking the Tracks Cecelia to Cheneyville

Saturday was evaporating into more humidity. Summer was here. It would not retreat again as it has, thrown back by an enduring Spring. Now her time was gone. I moped around like an abandoned child left at the station as the train pulled away, two lights on behind.

The process of preparation commenced. At least I'd be ready if I decided to go. Food, water, camera, oil, a light t-shirt, sun screen, helmet, rain coat, leave, go one mile, and ride back because I didn't have the GPS. I almost continued without it, but, I know better. I would not be writing this if I'd blown it off. It is the only thing that sustains my interest in local riding. Without it, I'd just park the bikes, believing I'd seen it all. It is my microscope and my telescope. It suggest points of interest it doesn't even realize it's doing. That is what it did today, saving an early return with nothing gained.

I finally broke loose from preparation hell. Again I was headed up the same old route out of Sub- US190 Louisiana. I melded with the dull haze of the silver sky. No matter, I knew I was doing the right thing as sitting at home is terminal. I just didn't have any enthusiasm. Then I noticed my route was following the old rail line, the Missouri Pacific's Port Barre to New Iberia Branch, long gone and disappearing quickly. I would investigate and photograph every bit of evidence I could in the short stretch north to US 190, the location of the existing main line. I was already above Cecelia so I had missed some of the bed north from I-10, but not much, and it would be easy to catch it later as that is my neighborhood. At least I had a mission and a game.

I don't expect you to be interested in this report or the pictures or my bizarre attraction to invisible trains or rails. If you decide it's a good time to go bathe Fideaux, that's fine with me. Com along if you want. Here's a big old map of the first section of track tracking. It gets big if you click it. The yellow line is me. The purple line is the railroad, or close.



Viewing the following pictures of humps in the road, bare places in the fields, weeds, trash trees and broken down houses, remember, they are only a bit of what is to be seen down yet another Louisiana yellow brick road.

I'm not going to tell you, "this is the rail bed at Beknell Road", unless I find that bump or hump or dark tunnel extremely interesting.

One day some jerk running for Parish President will put into his platform a promise to level all humps, an equivalency to burning books.

Above Cecelia.
This one is now gone.



First, I snap the hump and then I try to shoot from its
apex up and down the line. Some humps only got one
shot as shooting a mass of green tangle doesn't say
much. Try to think of the humps as Indian Mounds.
Suddenly they are artifacts, eh?





The rails now bordered a wheat field. Wheat is something
new down here.



Some guy was using the old bed as his dive way. This is
all taking place between Cecelia and Arnaudville. Here are
the names of the communities that were visited by the
tracks between I-10 and 190. Two are just south of I-10,
but I'll include them anyway. This is going north.

Patin
Champagne
Cecelia, also known in the old days as Grand Point
Huron, Huron?
Bushville
Darby
Arnaudville
Robin
Pecaniere
and Chiasson, our first landlord.

Back to the pictures.
Here's one really useless picture.







Telephone lines follow railroads. Telegraph lines did.



Arriving in Arnaudville, the hump is on 347 going into town.
Look at the creosote planks. Had there been a bridge here
or a station or platform of some sort?



I followed the bed into Arnaudville. The train ran between
the trees. Well, that's a theory.



North of town is this old barn.



Back on track.







Now we're getting into the Pecaniere area.





Here's the old school house in Pecaniere.
It's a pretty nice home, now.



If there had been a station in Pecaniere, it would have been here.



Almost to La.471, there's another hump just before the highway.



The next shot is along 741 between Pecaniere and US190.



I could see where the wye had been connecting this line to
the main at 190. I turned toward Opelousas and then
crossed back over and pulled over. I was going to jump
the ditch to see if anything remained of the connection.
Then, a train came along. I couldn't have anyway,
the ditch was full of water and way too big. I had to give
up on that one. It hurt. Below is how it was set up.
Remember, I'm yellow, the old bed is purple and I was on La.741.



Later I walked into Dixie Storage and asked to see the wye.
Then I had to explain myself. It got tedious, but the owner
drove me out there.

The map explains it.
Reaching from the south, 2 railroads
crossed going into Port Barre. Well, actually,
the Southern Pacific (red) actually went into Port Barre.
The Missouri Pacific met it's main line at a place called "Frisco",
a suburb of Port Barre. Click the map.



South on 741 you can see the ROW going north toward Frisco.





Pictured is the refurbished western part of the wye at Dixie.



Driven out in the white truck almost to the point where the
two arms of the "Y" joined, I shot north toward the live
Union Pacific mainline, once the Missouri Pacific.
The tangle to the right fairly represents the location of the
eastern arm of the wye.



Page 2, The Southern Pacific from Opelousas to Cheneyville.

It's been a rough day. Still I don't like to leave stuff undone.
That said, you'll understand that I'm just throwing this together.

I was looking for the ghost railroad I wanted to follow next,
the Opelousas to Cheneyville route used by the Southern
Pacific since 1870 something seemed like a good choice.

I had whipped up La.473 and crossed under I-49 and hit La.182
going into Washington. This old tree was near where the line had run.



I could see where the tracks went through Washington.
I was looking for the likely location of the depot.
That area was not accessible due to this.
But, that would be wrong.



I almost forgot the map.
Click it for the large version.



Remember I'm following the rails that follow La. 182. I
know there's one going from Opelousas to Ville Platte
to Bunkie, that's another time. The GPS tracks on I-49 is my return trip.

These are some of the communities on the route to Cheneyville.

Opelousas
Nuba
Washington
Mcland
Beggs
Garland
Boretta
Whiteville
Saint Louis
Augusta
Gold Dust
Hass
And Cheneyville

I gave up on the Washington depot because I need to do
some research, I left town. I continued on 182, going east
from Washington, watching the ghost tracks. At Beggs the
line swung north. On the way out of town, I stopped at the
old store that now has a new owner. These will not be his
gas prices. Ah, the good old days.





A side road revealed a gentle hump.
It was obvious.



See the line just on the other side of that oak tree?



The line turned just behind Soileau's Grocery at Beggs.
I've been there when it was still the place to be in Beggs.



Here a map.



Near Dubuisson, the tracks cross 182 affording a look at
where they came from (south) to where they went (north).
The line is listed here as owned by Acadiana Railroad. They
must have been the last owners. I know it was the Southern
Pacific through Washingotn.




(N)



Shortly after (N), this is looking back south.





Nearing Whiteville, the tracks left 182. I ventured down the
Bayou Boeuf Road when I saw the tracks veer off. The church
is listed as White's Chapel, United Methodist Church.



I arrived at what is now called Whiteville. You cannot pass
up a picture of Whiteville Falls when there. There is no
nature trail. I would go out CCC Road to meet the tracks.



Beyond this point, going east, is weird to me. The falls at
Whiteville are on the Boeuf. The next bayou out is the Wauksha.
I met a nice lady fishing there one day.

I wouldn't be going that far this time, just to the ghost tracks.
The bed is elevated here. These bayous flood and the tracks
were lying between two of them.



You see Whiteville? OK where you see 43 is where I turned
toward the old community of Saint Louis.



Looking toward St.Louis down the tracks.



The barrier was where the rails would have crossed the Boeuf.



This is where I crossed the Boeuf.



My pulse quickened when I saw this. It is mustard
with brown trim. I'm going out on a limb and say that's
Southern Pacific colors. I say it was owned by the railroad.



Was it a section crew house?



I returned to what is now La.29. I tried to ride back on the
other side of the bayou but that wasn't going to work. I didn't
realize where I'd check out next. The place is actually called
Barbeck Station. I went a bit past the rails for theses shots.





This is shooting toward the rail line.
Could that be the area where Barbreck Station was?
Barbreck has it's separate write on the blog.

Past there was this church.





I found this place perfect for lunch.





Ice tea and a granola bar. Back to work.





The following is the most exciting moment of the search.
It is at Gold Dust, a community hidden off the main road
at the apex of a bend in Bayou Boeuf. I stopped and took
this one picture hoping it would take. A very bad dog was
having a fit. This, what I believe is an old store was right
where the tracks had run. It could have been a station.



False alarm, it was a little too far from the tracks, or at least
the tracks recorded most recently. A later visit would prove
me wrong, it was the station or acted as the station.

At Milburn there was construction and I had to leave 29.
Place names missed were: Kelly, Star, Carboco. I was forced
onto I-49. I got off at La.115 and headed to where I thought
the line ended, Bunkie. I crossed the rails near a place called
Haas. They were headed to Cheneyville. The ghost line from
Ville Platte, that turned out to be the Texas and Pacific, ends
in Bunkie. This was a very early ride and I was just learning
the companies. That line is now operated by the Acadiana Railroad.



I got gas in Bunkie, $3.86, bike gets 50/gallon. No longer a cheap date.

This place is gorgeous. It is called Norwood.



I came into Cheneyville bound to find where the SP had
met the main line. I worked and worked and found it,
if the GPS was correct.



I know the locals were wondering what I was doing.

The following are pictures from that hunt. This group
will climax with the grand crescendo.









I was getting hot. That plant with the white flowers grows
well in limestone. Tracks run on limestone. This was one
place the line met. It had to be a "Y" to facilitate ease of
entrance. There had to be another one.



I kept expecting the police.





I ventured out into a large field.

There were no signs barring me, but I was on farmland,
carefully avoiding every baby plant.







I'd found it.



There would be more. Across the tracks was another mustard and brown.



It was once a fine house. Look at the ornate supports neat
the roof line. Of course the railroad connection is only a guess.

This had been a long hike and getting home to the animals
was high priority. I jumped on I-49 and let the dogs out,
even edging out the speed limit accidentally on occasion.
You do what you have to do. I have to sign off, Bye.