high trestle expert and radioman, in hopes he could come along.
He hadn't had a good night, or had too much of a good night, and declined.
There was no inclination, at the time, that a trestle lay immediately in our path.
Knowing that, he would have pulled himself together, no doubt.
We motored on. On the north boundary of Chicot St.Park,
Al became uncommonly agitated. Actually, "Agitated" is Al's middle name.
He roared ahead of me, blocking my way.
He practically screamed, "Did you see that?"
What?
"The Fontenots are having a reunion".
We had met Dwayne Fontenot during the "My Grandmama's a Fontenot" Adventure
and Al wanted to renew their friendship, I supposed.
Whenever Al shows an interest, I relent and give him the reigns. We went to the reunion
and without immediately spotting Dwayne, we left.
But, he did want a picture of the sign to remember the occasion.
We parked for lunch, still in the park. We were right at the trail crossing.
It brought back memories of the Chicot Trestle Adventure so long ago.
These pictures stink, too bad because Chicot is gorgeous.
This is the highest dam in Evangeline Parish. The water, when there is any, roars.
I asked Al if I'd shown him the Cleco Spur. He mulled the question over
and finally conceded by answering, "No". Off we went.
Excitement grew as we crossed the tracks for the second time.
Arriving at the first crossing, Al blankly asked, "Is this it"?
Arriving at the switch, it was dismount time. Al awoke.
A large carbon black car sat on the siding. Little did I know
that Al had taken a liking to it.
I failed to tell you, Al, self admittedly, has let himself "go" a bit.
In fact, he was actually bragging on the fact. I told him he looked good.
He frowned. I had to tell him I was kidding and that he really looked like
the underside of a large black camel. To that, he said thanks.
He mounted the rails and left without me.
Oh, that's a "Don't Tread on Me" t-shirt. I'd advise taking its advice.
The shirt speaks for all of us, Pr.BO.
As he bounced along, his hair seemed to grow with each step.
Is he going through some hormonal activity period?
Carefully balancing, he noted similarities seen at the Chicot Trestle.
Arriving amongst oooooohs and aaaaaahs, picture taking commenced.
Al had not brought his camera citing that I had. It doesn't end.
Next was the perp walk.
I could not watch another one so I shot the Cocodrie, a beautiful river.
The water is clear, the sky was brown.
Someone had left us a note, but we had to cross the trestle to read it.
It was like "No trestle splashing"? No problem. Hadn't planned on it.
{The company man, who is standing right here, says that it read
"No Trespassing"}. I argue that we did not break any laws going north,
and damn, if we were lured to the north side, we weren't swimming back.
Al wanted to make sure we got a shot of the old trestle's supports.
Every shot is unique. You could take 400, and I did, and never see 2 exactly alike.
Back in there, you might make out the Cleco Spur, seen from the main line.
Al noticed this, a rail growth. When rails get old they get barnacles, much like old people.
Beautiful, this is what all trestles should be.
Getting back to the carbon black car, he asked for the camera
again. Al really has an eye for artsy photo shoots and he knows it.
It blows me away how chilling some can be.
Leaving the spur, Al insisted that I shoot these chickens.
Sorry Al, I don't have your touch.
On the last little bit of 181, coming out of the swamp, I shot this.
Buttercups and red clover. Yes, he made me stop again.
In Cheneyville, I had a chance to relive my childhood and
sit as I'd seen old men sitting under the cover playing dominoes.
We didn't have any dominoes, but Al had some dice. They are loaded aren't they, Al?
Shot taken from under the cover. The original furniture is long gone.
KCS rails on left. This is close to where the Southern Pacific, coming from Lafayette,
met the T&P/MP rails into Alexandria.
The brown line is our track. The rails dropping due south are the old SP's.
I've been in that field and the ROW is very visible.
At Lloyd Hall, preparations for a wedding were being made.
Al pulled out a handkerchief and asked if we could stay.
I'd been to one "occasion" already and was not going to another.
Bridge abutments were seen on Bayou Boeuf, across from Lloyd Hall.
They did not seem rail related but were extremely heavy duty.
Next up was Lecompte. I found a whole new part of town I'd overlooked.
Lecompte is a jewel.
The Methodist church.
Yes, still LeCompte. This is water backed up from a dam on the Boeuf.
I thought this was another Methodist, but no, it's a Baptist.
There's been a lot of interest in the Red River RR, lately.
That's its depot to the right. I have always said that the
rails curved to the left following the water. Until now, I had
not connected the location of the depot with that guess.
Then we got way too involved with the high school.
Another shot is below, and way too many.
OK, now you can read it.
Tread on us, we'll tank you.
LeCompte is like this.
We went 150 miles more down the road. It was all good.
Our favorite part was the trestle and what more we found there.
That's all folks.
