HISTORY HUNTS WAREHOUSE: ***** The T&P RR: S. Louisiana Branches

Melville to SimmesportClick the map below for a really great ride.

A visitor had mentioned an old railroad that ran from Simmesport to Melville.

I wasn't doing anything and why not go to Melville and ride north following more ghostly grades? After all, it is Halloween Season. I have ridden La.105 from Krotz Springs to Simmesport a million times. You know that. I've even renamed it Easy Rider Road and included it in my stories for years. Why not explore it using one more criteria? It was after 1:oo PM, but what the heck. I was off. Up to 190 I flew in the crisp Autumn air. The bike was breathing deeply and stretching out, something that doesn't seem to happen that often on warmer days. She felt like a young pony out for a romp. I fell right into her pace as we galloped into Krotz Springs, pulling hard on the reigns to avoid the always present speed trap.

Just before the Krotz Spring Bridge, I turned off onto La.105. No, that is not the prestent day bridge, it's a ghost bridge. It was called the Huey Long - OK Allen Bridge. Try to find that on the web. It's memory seems to have been under attack.

I went under US.190 headed north.

I passed the "Pump".

Looked at what's left of Three Mile Bayou

Saw some neat tractors.

And an interesting gate.

Then the color version.

Along with what I see called Keith Lake which is an extension of Second Lake which is an extension of Bayou Petite Prairie whose headwaters are south of Bunkie.

I rolled into Melville as a train was coming off the brige. I saw this as a sign.

Excuse me while I briefly roam the town looking for bumps, humps, and bald places in the grass along with some rusting iron if that prize should appear. All of that stuff is quickly sinking into irrelevancy. It's just "a thing I have". To most people, that stuff has already disappeared. Fear not. Gifted with the power of the red line, those weeded humps, bumps and slumping beds will live again. The purple line is what was mentioned by the visitor and what I'm looking for.

Can you see them? Of course you can!

I more or less threw in the towel as those red lines and boring shots were not interesting to me either. At this point in the story I removed the report from production. The post ride euphoria was not happening. I had discovered something up the line, at least an emphatic rumor of something up the line and I was waiting for that rumor to be approved or disproved by a group of people whose specialty it is dwelling on the subject or subjects like the subject of my discovered emphatic rumor. If you understand that please acknowledge with a loud "yes".

I was recently cited for erroneously conflating and I don't want to step in that hole again as it broke my heart. I'm sorry, the subject of the cite is still conflated, for that I apologize. Or maybe I'll leave it. I'll take attention, no matter if it is negative. My kids taught me that one. Big smile, Irwin.

So here we are in Melville. Did I tell you that Melville had seen hell and high water? It was one of the places where the Atchafalaya levee broke big time. I'll show you a few of those pictures so my new pictures might look familiar. Then I'll have a special treat at the bottom of the page. Then on the next page we'll move on up the line and visit with Mr.Beard. That will be special, big time.

To set up the flood scenario, here's a recent picture of the railroad bridge.

That was now, this is then:

More, then:

This is now:

And, these are thens:

The Able Hotel: A visitor remembers:

"The hotel also had a phone booth in the lobby with a glass door, and a light and fan would come on when the door was closed. It also had a "colored" entrance on the back side of the building. The owner was a Mr. Comeaux, who seemed to have a "flambouyant" personality as I recall.

Also town down was another landmark....The Longhorn Bar. Spent an afternoon in there one Saturday. The Buckhorn Saloon, owned and operated by Sambo Savage. Somewhere there is a miniature replica of the building.

The post office:

Possibly The Joy Theater: Visitor:

"Don't forget the Joy theater, last movie I saw there was Viva Las Vegas, which broke during the middle, and they ran it backwards, and nobody left the building".

This was 2 years ago: Opened and functiong:

And, not. Another neighborhood store is closed:

And, an old house and old water tower:

And, a landmark on La.105 North:

That was all to get you in a depressed mood so you can read my tale of what actually happened here. First, this is the official newspaper account.

"The Sheriff's Office helicopter has been seaching the river for Jeanine Porque's body. The search has continued 30 miles downstream from the landing without success Thursday morning, Smith said. Deputies in boats also scoured the river banks below the landing".

"The way the current flows, it should keep her on our side," Smith said. Pointe Coupee deputies have notified all the parishes along the river to be on the lookout for Porque's body, he said.

Dogs specially trained to sniff out corpses arrived from St. Tammany Parish to help with the search, Smith said.

Porque's family began searching for her Sunday after she fought with her husband at Sherry's Lounge near McClure, then left the bar with Louis.

Porque and Louis drove south into Iberville Parish where they argued over money and he killed her in a sugar cane field, investigators said. His stabbed body was found below the elevated depot in Melville.

Investigators sent his pickup and other evidence to the State Police crime lab in Baton Rouge, Thursday for analysis, Smith said.

I figure it happened like this, let me set up this common Louisiana scene:

Sherry Lynn's was just another one of those Louisiana back road bars, the ones that have the door opened most of the time so the patrons can find their way out. And, the air conditioner hadn’t worked in a while. Half the fluorescent lights on the old building's once fancy external display were burnt. Inside the heavy smell of Clorox covered a history of smells worse than Clorox. The bar stools were rusted chrome with worn red plastic covers, the bar marred by the steady presence of wet elbows. It was dark, it was dank. Since her husband died 20 years back, Sherry Lynne had presided over it all with the help of her younger brother, Rudy.

Rudy's jobs were to be the bouncer, deal blackjack and hold down the old recliner that sat next to the pinball machines. Rudy wasn't real bright, but very big.

It was cold that late December evening in McClure. Happy Hour was going strong with the truck drivers hooping it up. They had been a fixture at Sherry's ever since logging had picked up a couple of months back. They worked hard and partied hard, always creating a tenseness in the little place. Sherry and Rudy put up with it since their money was good and the local clientele had faded with the place and the town.

Larry and Jeanine had lived there all their lives, gone to school together, got married, and Jeanine got drunk. Life in McClure had little to offer. Jeanine had resigned herself to a life of blurring reality. Larry had resigned himself to Jeanine. They were together, but not. Larry's pride and Jeanine's need for support were their only bindings.

Larry worked long hours at his old man’s hardware and feed store up on US 190. More likely than not, returning to McClure, he would find Jeanine carrying on with Sherry at the bar. Reliably, Jeanine would be four sails to the wind. Tonight, Jeanine had found a different audience.

Louis was a big old boy with an attitude. He and Jeanine had been getting acquainted over the last few weeks, unknown to late working Larry. For her favors Louis had been hood-winked into giving Jeanine a short term loan, supposedly to help her ailing mother. In reality, it was to support her newly acquired crack habit, and the money was gone.

That night, Larry came in early. Seeing his wife in the corner with Louis hanging all over her, made him snap. His life was nothing and he had nothing to lose. He pounced toward Louis. Louis caught him in mid-air and flung him against the wall. Larry crumpled.

Someone screamed that he wasn't breathing.

Sherry was on the phone to the sheriff's office. The place was emptying as if on fire. Louis was on his way out with Jeanine pleading for him to take her with him. He did.

Louis panicked. They headed south across I-10 and parked in a cane field south of Grosse Tete. Louis believed he had killed Larry and he needed to leave the state. Pay day wasn't until Friday and his funds were getting low. He told Jeanine he wanted his money. One excuse led to another and the argument got hotter until Jeanine, in her drug enhanced rage, attached Louis. Scratching and kneeing, Jeanine had gotten the upper hand in the small confines of the pickup. Louis reached behind him as he lay on the cab's floor finding the hunting arrow in its case. With one thrust he put it through Jeanine's chest.

Louis drug the limp body to the bed of the pickup putting her under an old tarp and covering it with the garbage which was always there. He did his best to clean up his wounds as he sat there in the cold damp air, wondering what he'd do.

He was becoming frantic. He needed a place to clean up, rest and plan.

He drove back into Pointe Coupee, heading towards Krotz Springs and then up the lightly traveled gravel road that shot north towards Red Cross. Along the way he would find a place to dump the body into the river. It was very late, almost 2:00. The river, his first choice was always too far from the road. At last he rounded a bend and there the Melville Ferry's shell landing appeared.

Darkness would cover him as he backed the truck to the water's edge and slid her voluminous body out of the bed and into the water, the feathered arrow still in place. A deliberate shove was needed to float her corpse out of the shallow water. Then she disappeared into the night.

The landing would be quiet until 5:00. Louis pulled the truck onto a small side road and tried to sleep. He was cold and wet. The only available warmth was the tarp. Sleep did not come. He lay there shivering until he heard the sound of an approaching car. It was time. He got in line and boarded the ferry to Melville. As it left the shore, he looked downstream and imagined the feathered end of the arrow breaching the water's surface.

The old hotel was his only hope. The Able Hotel had survived the terrible flood of the Twenties, but was soon doomed to be torn down.

As he came to the counter, Mr. Comeaux looked him over, shook his head and figured that at this point, what difference did it make. After handing over most of his money he headed to a room up the stairs. The place was cold. Only the rooms offered a small amount of heat, most of which was trapped up in their high ceilings. There was only one large bathroom for the floor.

Louis made his way down the hall to clean up. At least it was warm. He returned to the room and collapsed, sleeping until late that afternoon when he was awakened by a rapping at the door.

He moaned, "What ya want?", thinking that it was all over, delusional in his hopes for an escape. The old man wanted him to move his truck so that a delivery could be made. He pulled himself together and took care of it. While he was out, he went to the store and bought some bread and vienas to hold him over.

Time passed slowly. The meager groceries had taken most of the money he had left. He was becoming desperate. He knew they’d be looking for his truck. He would wait until 7:00 pm for the last ferry load to the east bank, take the west bound ride and hijack the boat. As the load from the east side unloaded, a pickup exiting the ferry was being driven by someone looking very much like Larry.

Has was breathless. No, it couldn't be. His mind had to be failing.

He boarded the ferry. He scrounged enough change from the can on the dash and handed it to the deckhand. The crossing was too quickly over. After exiting the ferry he turned the truck around towards Melville and was motioned back onto the boat, the deckhand shaking his head.

This was it. Could he do it?

After boarding, he set the brake and took a deep breath. His head hurt as he sat there knowing he was losing his mind.

Driving back up the bank into town, he saw the local theater was opened. The old Joy looked like the place to sit and weigh his situation. At that moment, the town siren wailed causing him skid to a stop. Sheriff J.L. Moreaux turned his head as he made his nightly rounds, eying the stranger.

They traded glances, Louis forcing a smile and a wave. The sheriff walked up to the truck. Lewis started to speak as the sheriff explained that it was just the siren being worked on and the crew was trying to finish for the weekend. The sheriff told Lewis to take it easy.

Restarting the stalled truck, he pulled into the parking space. "Viva Las Vegas" was playing. His quiet escape quickly evaporated into a noisy roar of young girls anticipating Elvis.

He left. Exiting the theater, he looked down the street and saw the old train station raised on pilings to match the tracks as they descended from the rail bridge. The train would be his escape. He had little money and the truck was useless. The tracks were the only way out. He would wait and jump a freight. He drove toward the underpass, where he would wait for a slow moving train. As he topped the levee he saw the Longhorn Bar. He needed a drink. Opening the door, reflections of his nightmare made him shudder. The jukebox roared. Working men were letting off steam in their practiced ways.

As he sat at the bar, a familiar voice came from the crowd. "Lewis, damn, it’s you Lewis. Man, we gotta talk".

It was Frank, one of the guys he knew from log hauling. Frank had been at Sherry's.

Louis pulled Frank outside. Louis hadn't killed Larry. Larry was fine and no one was looking for him. Larry had been heard telling the cops that he'd take another whipping to get rid of that woman. No charges had been filed.

Again a siren sounded. From the bar's parking lot, Frank and Larry looked down on the ferry landing as the sheriff's car came to a screeching halt at the water's edge. A night fisherman was motioning across the river. The sheriff got into his boat and they crossed the dark waters. Louis knew.

He told Frank that he had to go back to the hotel to get the girl and tell her the good news.

As if choreographed, a train's bright light flashed slowly across the bridge, its horn whaling. This was his chance. He drove the truck down under the bridge, climbed the embankment to just below the tracks and waited, hoping for an opened box car. There was none but he caught hold anyway. He had to get to its roof quickly or be exposed to the town. He climbed the ladder then lay flat on the roof looking to the side as he passed the station.

He saw her, the arrow still piercing her body.

He felt his chest burn, the pain, intolerable. He lost consciousness and rolled off the car's roof and down the embankment, coming to rest at her muddy feet. He was gone, as was she.

His cause of his death was listed as "puncture wound to the heart, perpetrator, unknown, weapon, missing".

The case remains open.

The sleepy little town settled down after a few weeks. It would be awakened again in the late 60's.

Page 2

It is still cloudy and damp with a slight chill in the air. I needed an excuse to carry on with my recollections of the most enjoyable part of the trip up Easy Rider Road. Aside from the mythical movie that was shot there slamming Louisiana as only extreme Californian leftest can do under the cover of an unpopular war and a cultural revolution, La.105 is a powerful place without that hype. Another war, the uncivil one, was fought on both sides of this great river which is directly to the east of the road. Then there's the river itself. On the previous page you saw its capabilities. That could easily happen again. Levees contain floods but they also contain sediment. The land inside the levee becomes higher than the land outside of it. Water flow slows and more sediment is dropped. Soon you have one very stopped up system. There is a biological analogy, but I'll back off from its use. When it hits the fan, things will get soggy.

Moving on from all that, let's continue out of Melville.

By the way, you grade hunters can have fun in Melville. There is a wealth of humps and bumps which are way more visible than the camera was able to expose.

Just north of town I paused and looked back. There were red lines in the fields, the same as I'd seen in town.

All these old beds become a little boring. The real prize for a grade hunter is not the grade at all, but the water crossings. Finding an old trestle or bridge is high on the ladder of achievements. There are other things which are higher, to be mentioned later.

At Goudeau Road, the remnants of the cut off Bayou Rouge meet the highway. My software was showing me where the rails had crossed. I've been down Goudeau before but hadn't realized I was I crossing ghost rails. So, that was the whistle I heard.

The rail bayou crossing was marked by a dirt road atop a large drainage pipe. The weeds were high. I could make out no sign of creosoted pilings.

I feel you nodding off. Slap your face, this is all getting ready to come together when we get to Mr.Bearb's house. Remember: "Goudeau Road", mostly the "Goudeau" part. Next, Remember "Bayou Rouge". Hang on to those terms. Also, check out the way the rails crossed the bayou. Very possibly, large trestles were not needed as these streams did not flow and might not be subject to flooding. The railroad might have just built earthen extensions into the bayou and then had a small trestle to allow for minimal water flow. Mr. Bearb would point out the narrowing of the bayou at the point where the rails crossed near his house.

This is getting exhilarating, huh? I sensed that. There's a large group of incognito railroad enthusiast that hang on my every word. I like to keep this exciting for them.

The next few shots should blow their skirts up. Behind this house, right next to the rail bed was this structure. I took it from all angles and distances to try to give it more definition. There was a car at the house, but no one outside. I draw the line at knocking on doors. I would not like to see me through the peek hole.

Here's it is: in multiple views. These are exhibits meant for the fellas mentioned above. In reality, C.Alphonso probably will dismiss it as some farm thing. I think it was part of a fuel depot or molasses loading apparatus.

As first seen from the road, notice the little house adjacent to it.

Zoomed in, same location:

The little house or maybe a shop?:

I saw that shortly I'd come to a road that crossed the "tracks". I could get a better idea of how close it was to the tracks from that vantage. The road took me to this little church which was on the west side of the bed.

Here's the shot. It seems a bit away from the bed and I don't believe rail traffic would have required a siding and a tank car on location would not be required as the thing seemed to have large tanks. Why were they off the ground that high? That could only mean that the flow would be from them to something almost as high, a tank car?

And what was that railed platform on top?

Captain V., let me know how the discussion is going back at the group.

Next, not seeing any scary warning, I visited the Delano Plantation where the bed was in use as a farm road.

I was now nearing Bayou Current. The Atchafalaya Presbyterian Church seems such an oddity out here. I've never researched the nationalities along the river. I imagine that would be interesting.

At La.360 is this old store and home combination. It is a classic. I hope you can make out the Jax Beer sign.

The place is now occupied.

Next, I went on up the road. I had considered a map to the spot but better sense has prevailed. I was looking for trestles again and saw this small stream. I stopped and angled for a shot. The weeds and underbrush were too thick to get a good shot down the waterway, and besides, the rails were a ways back. There was a two rut road next to the stream with no gate. There was a fence to the right, well back off the water and road, marking a property line. I sat and debated. I really don't like upsetting landowners as I'm one myself and would probably fire on someone invading my property. Of course it would be a warning shot followed by the full clip. So, I sat. Then I heard the sweet sound of a four wheeler starting. Someone might be coming out to inquire why I was sitting there so long or..........Every ride has a little tension along the way. No one came but I did see some activity under a carport of a house back in the field. I grasped the moment and fired up the bike, roaring off to the driveway. I honked as I approached as not to startle the resident, as has happened before with people mowing their yard. The four wheeler was running and that could have easily masked my motorcycle. A hard working farmer type seeming to be in his mid 60's looked up from his fiddling with the bike. A grin crossed his face and I figured that maybe he wouldn't shoot me. Reflecting, the grin could have gone badly, also. I asked him if he'd lived here for a while. He responded that he'd been here all of his 67 years. He went on to say that the farm had raised sugarcane and that donkeys were raised here, also. I didn't pursue that information and I should have. I didn't because I was too intent on what I wanted to know. I should have just let him ride out his story. I don't know when to be quiet. I asked him what he remembered about the railroad. He said the train would stop and pick up the sugarcane syrup, his words. He then added that "they" wanted to give him a ride in the caboose on into Melville. He said he'd forgotten about that until I'd asked about the railroad. I should have asked him about his ride, if he'd enjoyed it, etc, but I didn't. I did ask him if if was a steam engine or a diesel. He said it was a steamer. He said his parents met him at the station and brought him home. I asked about what year that was. With us both doing the math, him saying he was 10 or a little younger, and now he's 67, and this being 2008, we came up with 1951. The rails south of Gordon to Melville were ripped up in 1952. Those above Gordon, years earlier. I went on to tell him about my quest for signs of the old railroad and how I'd looked for it back on Goudeau Road. He said he use to go fishing back there but hadn't in a while, but there might be some timbers left. I told him what I'd found. He added that his mother was a Goudeau. I said I'd been through Goudeau over on La.361. He further added that he was related to all those people over there. I was almost tempted to say that my mother was a Goudeau, but bit my tongue. No, she wasn't, so hold the emails. You can enter dangerous territory bringing up too many relations, ask C.Alphonso. The silence between subjects was growing longer, me being a dumb interviewer. I said I'd be heading back to look at the bayou crossing if he didn't mind. He asked if I needed him to come with me. I said no but in truth I did. I got back there and the tangle was very bad with added hurricane damage everywhere along the stream. There were a few houses which I supposed to be either family or sharecropper. After he joined me, sensing I was spinning, he verified that indeed they were sharecropper homes.

He showed me where the bayou narrowed but it was not worth a shot.

I told him I'd be moving along and thanked him. I added, "Do you remember those movie people coming by?"

His eyes lit up, "I met that guy, the main one".

"Peter Fonda?"

"Yea, him, I was coming back from Melville and the road was blocked. Everyone was out of their cars and looking at what was going on. They were getting ready to film the scene where the bike blows up. I talked to the stunt guy and he said they'd do it with a trip wire".

All I could say was a dumb sounding, "Wow". I've connected this road with the movie for a long time. I think I know where it all happened but I'm not really sure to the exactness of my guess. To actually talk to someone that could verify it all seemed to induce a paralysis on any coherent thought. This man could point to the exact inch where it all went down. He probably knew the locals that played the parts. And, I was frozen. Like Fagan said, I can go back and may with a list of questions. Seeing me frozen, starring at my feet, he said he had to get going, and so did I, we both feeling a little loss at the lack of timber in the bayou. Leaving I saw this:

And this:

Then this, a spike stuck in the tie. All of them had rail plate marks clearly pressed into their surfaces. Now, those timbers would have to be at least 60 years old if they had come from the old T&P line. That is a stretch, I know. I have some that have been lying in the ground since 1975 and are still in good shape. I know, I'm reaching.

Nevertheless, I was excited. I roared back to his house and exclaimed, "All your fence post are rail ties". His eyes rolled as he said, "They are?".

"And, one has a spike in it !" I hollered. Then his eyes did get big as he hopped on his 4 wheeler to follow me to the scene. He thanked me for reviving his old memories and for the spike discovery. I still needed to get to Simmesport as the sun was going down.

Along the way I passed a few landmarks that I'll post here.

Here's the old house/store at Woodside. It's a farm machinery repair place now.

Above Woodside, the rails come very close to the road. There is a home there that uses ties to brace the wire fence.

This is the line as it fades back from the road in their yard:

There was one more house back at Bayou Current. It had these tanks that I found suspicious but don't now. But, they may be? Neat house, anyway.

Mr.Bearb said that they were probably farm related from my description.

And, one last landmark before I go into another speech. This is the old school at Odenburg.

The next move was to go on into Simmeport to see if I'd missed anything railroad related. I knew I hadn't, but still, since I'd found that there was a railroad from Simmesport to Melville, I'd look. I ducked into a subdivision on the south side of town. There this older fella was cleaning up hurricane damage in his yard. Long story short, he said there had been a turntable in Simmesport. He gave me directions. I made the mistake of saying I was a little familiar with the town and probably got the abridged version of the directions, me not wanting to admit that I was confused, it's a man thing. I looked around, got attacked by 20 dogs and left. I turned the question of there being a TT at Simmesport over to a group through one of its members. They threw it around for a couple of days coming up with a lot of ancillary facts but they get no cigar. I'm going back to his house, too. That's it. The End, Fini', I'm gone. Bye bye.

The Avoyelles BranchEverett had mentioned the Texas and Pacific Railroad Avoyelles Branch when I had sent him a picture of cracks in the highway in Bunkie. You don't send pictures of highway cracks? Almost immediately Mike sent me his latest "Railroader" addition, Living and Loving on the Avoyelles Branch. So, I guess the ball was in my court to show you the line which the story depicted. The ride didn't start with that intention.

The weather was unsettled. Storms were in the forecast.

I hadn't ridden in over 2 weeks, so the above was irrelevant. I put an old collapsible umbrella in the bike trunk and strapped a folding chair on the back of the bike for a possible Plan B. If the weather became the ride, the ride would pause. I have no quarrel with weather nor want to compete with or challenge it. I'm for co-existence. I would unfold the chair, sit in it and raise the umbrella. Then I'd drink the two ice teas I had brought. There were also some boiled peanuts in the trunk somewhere. I'd be fine. The storms were listed as the scattered variety. That meant they could be avoided, and if not, well Plan B has been described. The vision of me being Mary Poppins in a folding chair hadn't crossed my mind. "Co-existence" can have issues.

First some unfinished business:

Here's the rest of the Burma Shavic rhyme seen near Lemoyen. Of course you have to look on that page to get the first part of the poem.

How true that sign is, just by its lonesome. I saw in the ditch when I circled to shoot this.

That's what gave me the idea to add to Mike's story by tracing some of that steam engine's route off into eastern Avoyelles Parish.

I told the GPS wench to take me to Bunkie in case I got lost on US71. She told me it would be 24 minutes before we got there. I made her change that assessment. She doesn't like being proved wrong. You know one that does?

Soon we were crossing the T&P tracks that go to Opelousas at the Bunkie city limits. I crossed the main line which had been my companion on the way north. She told me I was here. Mz.Garmin we'll call her? If I continue to call her, "that winch", she may rebel and lead me astray or worse.

Let me mention again, you can click these pictures and they will get bigger.

The black triangle marked my position right in the middle of Bunkie's railroad district. To the right of the triangle you can see a rail line going east (+++++). That's the one we'll follow. It does not exist anymore but there is evidence, starting with this, so Mr.Everett, you know your stuff though I have questioned you.

Yes, I've questioned him, only because he does know his stuff. See how terms can be taken wrong. That's a problem with e-mail and the internet. Life long friendships can be wiped out by the wrong "smilie face" or lack of. Be careful out here. Where did that come from? I'll leave it, as it is the duty of us older Americans to teach the youth of today. Here's one, "If you are in a hole, don't keep diggin'".

I turned to look where they would go.

This group of ag business buildings was first. I went in and asked an older man (one to another) where the rails had run and he said "there". Here's there. Let me add, I've got a new thing going for old steel buildings. I'd hoped that he'd been a little longer winded and told me the entire rail history of Bunkie, but "there" had to do.

I could rattle off a long list of why I like these old buildings, but that would be senseless. Most people's minds are made up already when it comes to steel buildings and that's a shame. They may be old, they may not be pretty, but they are strong and they are still there because they were made of the right stuff. They have integrity, a facet some newer more flashy buildings don't.

I headed east on La.29 toward Evergreen, a gorgeous place. Soon I saw this. What this perfect concrete foundation had supported or led to, I don't know. The rails had crossed it and the wooden crossing planks were still in place.

Now don't get all disillusioned. This ride is not going to be all bumps in the road. Nevertheless, they are important evidence and keep you up to speed on the progression of the investigation. Just be thankful I don't show full size maps of where to find them, complete with coordinates in three different styles.

Next up was Evergreen.

Let me show you what I was seeing on the GPS. I was coming from the west on 29. I worked both sides of the bayou trying to see if there were any pilings still in the water or trestle parts on the shores of first, Bayou Huffpower, and then Bayou Rouge to the East. Why were the rails routed across 2 deep depressions when crossing just Bayou Rouge and going through town would have worked? On the land between Huffpower and Rouge I found a large plantation. Possibly, it was a stop?

This is the approach to crossing Huffpower, what I could see of it. The undergrowth is at its peak for the year. Winter will open up the views.

The picture was taken from the hump in La.29.

Here's another perspective. The land owner has kept the bed cleaned up. I would have loved to have walked out there but I didn't have time to stop and ask permission. It's on my list.

Here's the official Evergreen welcome sign. Dave has my Louisiana and Arkansas RR book right now so I'm not sure of this, but, it seems Evergreen was mentioned. The founding date jives.

Add "beautifull" to "historical". Bayou Rouge is in a somewhat healthy state due to Huffpower's addition, south of Evergreen, the once wide bayou is reduced to ditch size. Reminder: Bayou Rouge was a main steamboat route to Cottonport from the Atchafalaya. So, beside imagining those billowing steam engined trains, imagine their predecessors, the steamboats billowing clouds on the bayou. For more steam, just imagine the humidity. But not that day. The weather was delightful. It didn't get over 87F and the humidity couldn't have been much higher.

As the road enters Evergreen (a pretty name in itself) the bayou landscape unfolds.

This is all viewed entering town.

I crossed Bayou Rouge to check out where the rails had landed on the peninsula. Indeed there was a large farm there. This is looking right down the imaginary rails.

Crossing back over I could see where the bed headed through town. I then imagined a station, but found none.

Next, I was off to Cottonport. The rails went the direct route across the fields with no access until I came to Crackville Road at the imaginary settlement of Enterprise.

Here's your update map to keep you humming along. See Enterprise?

I know you are wondering, as I am, what was at Deals and Dora? Maybe Deals and Dora?

The answers are All Down the Line. (just a plug for the article over on Back Road Riding)

Cottonport was next. The line came right through here.

And down the main boulevard of the town, through downtown. Yes there were streets on either side of the tracks creating a boulevard. I would have named it Railroad Boulevard. They didn't.

This old house sat on the north side.

Crossing La.107 in downtown Cottonport, the next railroad associated building is this one. It may have been only a warehouse, but I think it was the station, also.

I followed the rails east as far as I could. At the end of the road was this place.

The "Squeeze Box" is reflective of the accordion, a main ingredient of most French and Zydeco bands. This place was hidden and is no doubt, a local secret. Don't be "hanging on" on the porch.

Returning back up the dead end road, I was back in downtown. Another steel magnolia beckoned for a shot.

I say cotton gin, but then I say cotton gin often. Yes, I knew you wanted a closer shot of that tractor, that's why this website is so popular, I anticipate.

Next is a bump in the road picture so you don't feel lost. I anticipated your need, again.

Still lost? The tour continues going east on La.29, a great adventure road. You can make a day or maybe 2 or a week out of La.29. I've made more than that from it. The places it visits are phenomenal. You want Cajun Louisiana? Follow 29.

I took 29 out of Cottonport and looked for access roads to the bed. Joffrion was my first chance but it only offered a hump which was negligible and I've learned to draw the line when there is a bounty of other pictures available. But, there was something you have to see. It blew me away. I like most people have a hard time getting rid of my used tires, being the environmentalist I am. I've been told that the EPA really frowns on burning them and the parish dissuades dumping. It further cost money to turn them in. So, this trucker/farmer has got it done in the true Southern Tradition of Inventiveness. He has built a drainage pipe out of his used tires. It is a model for America, if not the pipe, the resourcefulness.

The contributors:

He gets the Getterdone Bubba award for this outing.

At the head of the property was this old building. Associated with the RR, who knows?

Time was moving on quickly and I was still watching the sky for darkening clouds. All seemed stable for the time being. I was on La.29 right at Long Bridge. I came upon this in the road. another sign that road maintenance is slow, if ever in LA. I think these tracks were torn up in the early 70's, maybe earlier.

Looking down the once rail bed, this is what I saw.

Thrilling!

Next, I would get on La.114 which is basically a Marksville bypass and head north to Mansura.

In route I would leave 114 and see if I could see some evidence of where the T&P had crossed Bayou Des Glaises (the same bayou that forms Big Bend and ends up at

Cottonport)

I found this at the crossing. It had to be part of the bridge approach. I could see nothing in the bayou. The foliage was thick and the land private, so no snake bite walk could be taken. I love it when I have an excuse.

Back on 114, the "rails" soon joined the highway. At Bayou Grand Encore, the raised approach bed could easily be seen.

Maybe, only by me, but it's there.

I was almost to Mansura. No offense to Mansurians, but your town is known for its bars.

Here's a couple of historic ones. The one that is real historic, the big one, I just didn't see wasting any film on since it ain't pretty. This is Milburn's BAR and Packaged Liquor.

Across Bowling Alley Road is this pretty Easter Egg. I didn't catch the name.

Now we need another map to understand the complexities of Mansura's rail district.

Click it, then open it in new window so you can follow along.

I was coming from the south on 114 watching the GPS and trying to put the real messy world together with the neat little map.

This would be the curve to the east where "Ag Businesses" is written.

I also like big ag stuff. Go figure.

I would come back to this area. Something was pulling me up the line.

When I saw the RXR sign, I was wondering if it was a leftover. I forgot that there was an active line running through Mansura.

Moving across the bayou, I saw the old depot to the left. I'd come back to that, also, even though I figured it was not associated with the T&P. I could see that the T&P crossed the KCS and paralleled 107 through town. 107 has several neat old buildings on it. I have a whole page on Mansura somewhere? Stuff happened here long ago.

Honest, I didn't see the street name because the wonderful old software isn't real street name oriented. It is old railroad oriented. I just felt that I should go on the back streets and see what evidence the Texas and Pacific had left.

There was "some".

I wonder what percentage of the Mansurians knows what T&P stands for? I can imagine the guesses.

Here's an old shotgun that was adjacent to the tracks. Was this the location of the T&P Depot in Mansura?

Returning to 107, I stopped at the stop sign and shot this old service station (a lost term) and the adjoining old building.

I was then off to the depot. Turn where the sign points to the local library off 107.

You will now get 17 pictures of the depot and stuff around it. Hey, more is better.

That pole outfit was used for something, mail pickup, possibly?

I rely on you rail experts to hep me naw.

Everett has come to the rescue and explained the pole:

"Ah, the pole outfit. In the days when every station had an agent, and before radio etc, train movements were controlled by timetable and train order. The timetable told the engineer and conductor what time that their train had to be at a certain spot to avoid other trains, pick up passengers or what ever. IF for what ever reason the dispatcher overrode the timetable, or the train was an extra train not on the timetable, its movement was controlled by train orders telegraphed from the dispatcher to the appropriate station agent that could get them to the conductor and engineer of the train. The pole out in front of the depot told the engineer if he could just blast on by the depot, or if there were orders at the depot for him. It had a paddle on the pole and a light for at night. If the paddle was straight up and down or the light was green, he could keep on going. If the paddle was up at a 45 degree angle, or the light was yellow, that meant, slow down, and the station agent will hand up Form 19 orders, which were usually on green paper and handed up to the crew on the fly. If the paddle was straight out, or the light was red, it meant stop for Form 31 orders, which had to be signed by the engineer and conductor, and the train physically stopped. Form 31 orders were usually yellow as I remember. So the pole is called a train order signal. Now days with radio, GPS and computers, the dispatcher not only knows exactly where every train is, and how fast it is going, but can contact the crew at any moment to transmit information. Today's version of orders are now called "Track Warrants" and a warrant allows a particular train exclusive authority to occupy a particular piece of track for a specific time period and it is all done with GPS and wireless internet etc."

Now we know. Thanks Everett.

Everett just added this explaining this picture of the mast:

"You can see the train order signal out in front, and it is bidirectional. The signal to the right of the mast governs train movements from right (north) to left (south), while the signal on the left of the mast governs movements from left to right. In this case, there are no orders for trains in either direction. This type of signal is called a semaphore signal, with the arms. There were other types, that rotated so that when the arms were perpendicular to the track the red light would be on, and it would mean stop."

There were a bunch of rail support plates. I copped a spike.

And piled up timbers. (Forget about it Cindy)

And what looked like a work car wheel. It was yellow. I though about you Everette.

I took the next picture because I thought it might be significant to one of the really intense rail nutz that read this thing.

I didn't realize I was getting the fullness of this shot when I shot it. I was just aiming at the far away Mansua sign. I didn't realize I was capturing where the switch had been to allow cars to take the side track to the station and the oil business close by.

This is from the west end, right across the street from the oil business.

Having tried the doors and taken every angle and all the stuff on the ground, I felt complete and headed back to the ag businesses to investigate further.

I immediately thought I'd hit the Holy Grail. On the map, you can see that the T&P not only crossed the KCS but merged with it. Not shown is the western connection(because there was none as I first believed!) You can see the Highway 107 crossing in the distance. The map I used is old. 114 now makes the bend following the black line and aligns with 107 so what you are actually seeing is the 107 crossing near the depot. That threw me off until I compared maps. This is important and I want to get it right as it was the high point of the investigation.

The map of my movement in Mansura is below. The picture above was taken from where "X Tracks" is marked on the map looking toward the depot.

Right where I guessed the "X" to be was here. The cement doesn't jive with rails being exactly there. Ah, Now I get it, I think. the picture of the old rails is the cross track. It did not cross at right angles. There was no western merger.

Here's looking from the eastern merge tracks back to the T&P main line where I'd come into town.

I was overwhelmed by the excitement. I could absorb no more railroad stuff (like you probably feel) and headed back to Bowling Alley Rd to cross over to 107 and the quick way back to Cottonport. I then hooked up with 362 and 361 for a great ride back to US 71.

On the way I stopped to take a picture of Bayou Rouge.

The once proud bayou has been reduced to nothing south of Evergreen. It is now cut off from the Atchafalaya and Bayou Des Glaises.

Best picture of the ride: Old building and dog on 361, Bayou Rouge, same spot.

Runner Ups, maybe if the mirror had been cleaner:

I was attempting to demonstrate what a great road 361 is.

And: Harvesting on La.359 below LeBeau and the Port Barre turn off. The wires detract from the whole thing and it almost got dumped.

That's it. The Avoyelles Branch is almost invisible now except for what I found. I think I found it all, but maybe not. Winter could help. Louisiana gets pretty thick in summer. Ghost? Yes, there are ghost. I think I found Yvonne's house and I know I actually saw her crossing the street in Mansura. She smiled and waved as I waited for her. She's a little my senior, 78, Mike estimates, but still cute.

PS, yes, I hit rain on the way back but not quite enough for Plan B. so I still have some peanuts left. I drank the teas.

Tower Road OpelousasAll these pictures, when clicked, expand to 4 times the size you see.

Hit your back arrow to return.

The once busy Texas & Pacific above Opelousas, headed to Ville Platte.

Now the rarely run rails of the Acadiana Railroad.

Down the Road

Down the Rails

Across the Tracks

From the Crossing

Evening

Obama! Seriously, click it. This turtle has the same arrogant expression.

Then I was off to the museum / recycle center.

Dad, I like the red one.

The Avoyelles BranchEverett had mentioned the Texas and Pacific Railroad Avoyelles Branch when I had sent him a picture of cracks in the highway in Bunkie. You don't send pictures of highway cracks? Almost immediately Mike sent me his latest "Railroader" addition, Living and Loving on the Avoyelles Branch. So, I guess the ball was in my court to show you the line which the story depicted. The ride didn't start with that intention.

The weather was unsettled. Storms were in the forecast.

First some unfinished business:

Here's the rest of the Burma Shavic rhyme seen near Lemoyen. Of course you have to look on that page to get the first part of the poem.

How true that sign is, just by its lonesome. I saw in the ditch when I circled to shoot this.

That's what gave me the idea to add to Mike's story by tracing some of that steam engine's route off into eastern Avoyelles Parish.

Let me mention again, you can click these pictures and they will get bigger.

I turned to look where they would go.

Next up was Evergreen.

This is the approach to crossing Huffpower, what I could see of it. The undergrowth is at its peak for the year. Winter will open up the views.

The picture was taken from the hump in La.29.

Here's another perspective. The land owner has kept the bed cleaned up. I would have loved to have walked out there but I didn't have time to stop and ask permission. It's on my list.

Here's the official Evergreen welcome sign. Dave has my Louisiana and Arkansas RR book right now so I'm not sure of this, but, it seems Evergreen was mentioned. The founding date jives.

As the road enters Evergreen (a pretty name in itself) the bayou landscape unfolds.

This is all viewed entering town.

I crossed Bayou Rouge to check out where the rails had landed on the peninsula. Indeed there was a large farm there. This is looking right down the imaginary rails.

Crossing back over I could see where the bed headed through town. I then imagined a station, but found none.

Next, I was off to Cottonport. The rails went the direct route across the fields with no access until I came to Crackville Road at the imaginary settlement of Enterprise.

Here's your update map to keep you humming along. See Enterprise?

I know you are wondering, as I am, what was at Deals and Dora? Maybe Deals and Dora?

The answers are All Down the Line. (just a plug for the article over on Back Road Riding)

Cottonport was next. The line came right through here.

And down the main boulevard of the town, through downtown. Yes there were streets on either side of the tracks creating a boulevard. I would have named it Railroad Boulevard. They didn't.

This old house sat on the north side.

Crossing La.107 in downtown Cottonport, the next railroad associated building is this one. It may have been only a warehouse, but I think it was the station, also.

I followed the rails east as far as I could. At the end of the road was this place.

The "Squeeze Box" is reflective of the accordion, a main ingredient of most French and Zydeco bands. This place was hidden and is no doubt, a local secret. Don't be "hanging on" on the porch.

Returning back up the dead end road, I was back in downtown. Another steel magnolia beckoned for a shot.

I say cotton gin, but then I say cotton gin often. Yes, I knew you wanted a closer shot of that tractor, that's why this website is so popular, I anticipate.

Next is a bump in the road picture so you don't feel lost. I anticipated your need, again.

The contributors:

He gets the Getterdone Bubba award for this outing.

At the head of the property was this old building. Associated with the RR, who knows?

Looking down the once rail bed, this is what I saw.

Thrilling!

Next, I would get on La.114 which is basically a Marksville bypass and head north to Mansura.

In route I would leave 114 and see if I could see some evidence of where the T&P had crossed Bayou Des Glaises (the same bayou that forms Big Bend and ends up at

Cottonport)

Back on 114, the "rails" soon joined the highway. At Bayou Grand Encore, the raised approach bed could easily be seen.

Maybe, only by me, but it's there.

I was almost to Mansura. No offense to Mansurians, but your town is known for its bars.

Here's a couple of historic ones. The one that is real historic, the big one, I just didn't see wasting any film on since it ain't pretty. This is Milburn's BAR and Packaged Liquor.

Across Bowling Alley Road is this pretty Easter Egg. I didn't catch the name.

Now we need another map to understand the complexities of Mansura's rail district.

Click it, then open it in new window so you can follow along.

I was coming from the south on 114 watching the GPS and trying to put the real messy world together with the neat little map.

This would be the curve to the east where "Ag Businesses" is written.

I also like big ag stuff. Go figure.

I would come back to this area. Something was pulling me up the line.

When I saw the RXR sign, I was wondering if it was a leftover. I forgot that there was an active line running through Mansura.

There was "some".

I wonder what percentage of the Mansurians knows what T&P stands for? I can imagine the guesses.

Here's an old shotgun that was adjacent to the tracks. Was this the location of the T&P Depot in Mansura?

Returning to 107, I stopped at the stop sign and shot this old service station (a lost term) and the adjoining old building.

I was then off to the depot. Turn where the sign points to the local library off 107.

You will now get 17 pictures of the depot and stuff around it. Hey, more is better.

That pole outfit was used for something, mail pickup, possibly?

I rely on you rail experts to hep me naw.

Everett has come to the rescue and explained the pole:

Now we know. Thanks Everett.

Everett just added this explaining this picture of the mast:

There were a bunch of rail support plates. I copped a spike.

And piled up timbers. (Forget about it Cindy)

And what looked like a work car wheel. It was yellow. I though about you Everette.

I took the next picture because I thought it might be significant to one of the really intense rail nutz that read this thing.

This is from the west end, right across the street from the oil business.

Having tried the doors and taken every angle and all the stuff on the ground, I felt complete and headed back to the ag businesses to investigate further.

The map of my movement in Mansura is below. The picture above was taken from where "X Tracks" is marked on the map looking toward the depot.

Here's looking from the eastern merge tracks back to the T&P main line where I'd come into town.

On the way I stopped to take a picture of Bayou Rouge.

The once proud bayou has been reduced to nothing south of Evergreen. It is now cut off from the Atchafalaya and Bayou Des Glaises.

Best picture of the ride: Old building and dog on 361, Bayou Rouge, same spot.

Runner Ups, maybe if the mirror had been cleaner:

I was attempting to demonstrate what a great road 361 is.

And: Harvesting on La.359 below LeBeau and the Port Barre turn off. The wires detract from the whole thing and it almost got dumped.

PS, yes, I hit rain on the way back but not quite enough for Plan B. so I still have some peanuts left. I drank the teas.

Melville to Simmesport

Click the map below for a really great ride.

A visitor had mentioned an old railroad that ran from Simmesport to Melville.

I went under US.190 headed north.

I passed the "Pump".

Looked at what's left of Three Mile Bayou

Saw some neat tractors.

And an interesting gate.

Then the color version.

Along with what I see called Keith Lake which is an extension of Second Lake which is an extension of Bayou Petite Prairie whose headwaters are south of Bunkie.

I rolled into Melville as a train was coming off the brige. I saw this as a sign.

Can you see them? Of course you can!

To set up the flood scenario, here's a recent picture of the railroad bridge.

That was now, this is then:

More, then:

This is now:

And, these are thens:

The Able Hotel: A visitor remembers:

The post office:

Possibly The Joy Theater: Visitor:

"Don't forget the Joy theater, last movie I saw there was Viva Las Vegas, which broke during the middle, and they ran it backwards, and nobody left the building".

This was 2 years ago: Opened and functiong:

And, not. Another neighborhood store is closed:

And, an old house and old water tower:

And, a landmark on La.105 North:

That was all to get you in a depressed mood so you can read my tale of what actually happened here. First, this is the official newspaper account.

"The way the current flows, it should keep her on our side," Smith said. Pointe Coupee deputies have notified all the parishes along the river to be on the lookout for Porque's body, he said.

Dogs specially trained to sniff out corpses arrived from St. Tammany Parish to help with the search, Smith said.

Porque's family began searching for her Sunday after she fought with her husband at Sherry's Lounge near McClure, then left the bar with Louis.

Investigators sent his pickup and other evidence to the State Police crime lab in Baton Rouge, Thursday for analysis, Smith said.

I figure it happened like this, let me set up this common Louisiana scene:

Rudy's jobs were to be the bouncer, deal blackjack and hold down the old recliner that sat next to the pinball machines. Rudy wasn't real bright, but very big.

Someone screamed that he wasn't breathing.

Sherry was on the phone to the sheriff's office. The place was emptying as if on fire. Louis was on his way out with Jeanine pleading for him to take her with him. He did.

He was becoming frantic. He needed a place to clean up, rest and plan.

The old hotel was his only hope. The Able Hotel had survived the terrible flood of the Twenties, but was soon doomed to be torn down.

Louis made his way down the hall to clean up. At least it was warm. He returned to the room and collapsed, sleeping until late that afternoon when he was awakened by a rapping at the door.

Has was breathless. No, it couldn't be. His mind had to be failing.

This was it. Could he do it?

After boarding, he set the brake and took a deep breath. His head hurt as he sat there knowing he was losing his mind.

Restarting the stalled truck, he pulled into the parking space. "Viva Las Vegas" was playing. His quiet escape quickly evaporated into a noisy roar of young girls anticipating Elvis.

As he sat at the bar, a familiar voice came from the crowd. "Lewis, damn, it’s you Lewis. Man, we gotta talk".

It was Frank, one of the guys he knew from log hauling. Frank had been at Sherry's.

He told Frank that he had to go back to the hotel to get the girl and tell her the good news.

He saw her, the arrow still piercing her body.

He felt his chest burn, the pain, intolerable. He lost consciousness and rolled off the car's roof and down the embankment, coming to rest at her muddy feet. He was gone, as was she.

His cause of his death was listed as "puncture wound to the heart, perpetrator, unknown, weapon, missing".

The case remains open.

The sleepy little town settled down after a few weeks. It would be awakened again in the late 60's.

Moving on from all that, let's continue out of Melville.

By the way, you grade hunters can have fun in Melville. There is a wealth of humps and bumps which are way more visible than the camera was able to expose.

Just north of town I paused and looked back. There were red lines in the fields, the same as I'd seen in town.

The rail bayou crossing was marked by a dirt road atop a large drainage pipe. The weeds were high. I could make out no sign of creosoted pilings.

This is getting exhilarating, huh? I sensed that. There's a large group of incognito railroad enthusiast that hang on my every word. I like to keep this exciting for them.

As first seen from the road, notice the little house adjacent to it.

Zoomed in, same location:

The little house or maybe a shop?:

And what was that railed platform on top?

Captain V., let me know how the discussion is going back at the group.

Next, not seeing any scary warning, I visited the Delano Plantation where the bed was in use as a farm road.

I was now nearing Bayou Current. The Atchafalaya Presbyterian Church seems such an oddity out here. I've never researched the nationalities along the river. I imagine that would be interesting.

At La.360 is this old store and home combination. It is a classic. I hope you can make out the Jax Beer sign.

The place is now occupied.

He showed me where the bayou narrowed but it was not worth a shot.

I told him I'd be moving along and thanked him. I added, "Do you remember those movie people coming by?"

His eyes lit up, "I met that guy, the main one".

"Peter Fonda?"

And this:

Nevertheless, I was excited. I roared back to his house and exclaimed, "All your fence post are rail ties". His eyes rolled as he said, "They are?".

Along the way I passed a few landmarks that I'll post here.

Here's the old house/store at Woodside. It's a farm machinery repair place now.

Above Woodside, the rails come very close to the road. There is a home there that uses ties to brace the wire fence.

This is the line as it fades back from the road in their yard:

There was one more house back at Bayou Current. It had these tanks that I found suspicious but don't now. But, they may be? Neat house, anyway.

Mr.Bearb said that they were probably farm related from my description.

And, one last landmark before I go into another speech. This is the old school at Odenburg.

Some of these spots were T&P in Oplelousas, so I'm including it here.

Up the Rails into Opelousas

With several boxes of yet to be posted pictures of what could be soon lost forever, I've been hit with a wave of guilt and conceded to Fred's insistence that I do one more History Hunt report. He refuses, saying this History Hunt thing is way past his job description. Agreeing with his assessment, here goes:

At the end of the Ebenezer ride, I came into Opelousas on US 190 from the west. I went over a couple of old railroad humps. I did quick glances down each old line, catching a glimpse of the stately warehouses and industry those rails served. Several buildings caught my eye as works of art. I knew I had to come back. I, also, knew Opelousas was rich with visible rail history augmented by still active routes. I have traced the old beds through town, but never really looked closely at all of the architecture, especially south of US 190.

It was a warm January day, as perfect as can be. I rode into south Opelousas on La.357, the old Texas and Pacific route. I pulled off the road where the rails had crossed the highway and glanced down at the GPS. I thought, "Hunting would be good today".

Sitting at the crossroads.

The following is a collection of what one might find ugly, sleazy, dirty, rundown urban blight. Once much of it wasn't and that has to be seen for what it was, the back bone of a vibrant industrial nation, much of it built to blend and add to the beauty of the town. Granted, some of it is purely functional. Being one that finds beauty in functionality, or the once functional, I was in a museum of industrial art.

At my first stop, were three places which might have served or been served by the men of the Texas and Pacific.

I know I stuck my camera in their gates but probably found nothing that even I would find palatable. They had been hit hard by the hurricanes, no doubt, and the place was a mess but still a working business. There had been an elongated tin building facing on the rails, probably with an extensive loading dock. That was the "served by" place. The next two will be places that might have "served". the T&P fellas, say if there was a break down or some unforeseen need to stay overnight.

Across the street, a bar had borrowed the old crossing warning.

I'm guessing this little place was around when the trains came through headed to Chuchpoint and at one time Rayne down on the main east-west line. I can imagine the patrons stepping outside to enjoy the passing of the iron horse.

Having absorbed the funkyness of the crossroads, I moved on. Ahead was a bare field which once held the rails as they turned toward town.

The next part of the ride into south Opelousas would be a test once again. If you enjoy urban track tracking, you must accept the fact that there were two sides of the tracks. Going forth with the knowledge that all racial prejudice has been erased with the election of our new president, I tentatively entered the hood knowing I'd be accepted with smiles and waves. I might mention that I actually did receive several reciprocal waves and that I timed my visit perfectly, before the school buses unloaded. I was exiting as one passed. Let's just say our president needs to get the peace and love word out with a little more fervor and tell the baby brothers that others might be packing, too.

Here's my map of south Opelousas. I had started my tracking with the T&P, the one on the left, back at the "crossroads". As seen, it's accessibility was brought to a halt so I shifted over to the Southern Pacific on the right and rode down it looking for stuff.

I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything so I rode the loop south on Railroad Ave, and then onto its continuation, Park, which led to a park. I U-turned and took this shot to commemorate making it this far. I consider luck incremental and I'm thankful for each increment.

That's looking south toward the SP's next stop, Sunset.

This is looking north up the line and into town. I took a deep breath. I was humming, "Bad Boyz Bad Boyz". Now that's a shame, Paranoia Will Destroy Ya.

There was no problem. I got back to where I'd begun the south loop and started taking pictures. I was now in the museum.

This would take dissecting.

The first easy shot was of a still functioning feed store. All of these buildings have their backs on the old SP rail bed. That, of course, leads me to believe that they were serviced by the Southern Pacific trains.

After looking at the pictures, I caught something. The feed store was not always named Fisette's Farm and Garden Center. A name on the side, now fading away, commemorates a previous owner, a name I'd seen again. It bore the name Dezauche. It was Dezauche Feed and Seed. I did a wheelie. Al said I should say that from time to time to keep you from falling asleep. I may have used it prematurely.

The next building is a little sad knowing what I learned later It is the Cary Iron Works.

I skidded to a stop. Al said that would work, too. I would find Cary's original location, later.

Next was a fine building. The home of Dezauche and Sons.

Dezauche may have owned seveal blocks along here.

I was now near US 190. I would cross that busy thoroughfare and would head up North Railroad. Street construction did make things a little difficult as RR Ave, North and South, was now one way near 190 on both sides, and one way in opposite directions, depending on what side you were on. See, difficult. But, you can't let stuff like that stop you. Going the wrong way in a construction zone can't carry that much of a fine. Can it?

The top picture was taken from the north side of the Union Pacific (UP) tracks above "014" looking south toward US 190. I don't want you to get disoriented. To the west, where the bike was parked, is the Mobil installation. You know it had to have been a long time customer of the SP's. I thought it could still be serviced by the UP as it sits right in that triangle above "014". That would prove false.

Here's a little historical map I assembled after messing up three times. It may still be messed up and if it is, and it bothers you, go do a terminal wheelie.

Now you are all straight on that.

Looking south toward O14, the beautiful old appropriately green sewer plant can be seen. Isn't this fun!

You might say we are in the bowels of the city. This is a good shot looking west on the UP. It shows the north edge of the sewer plant and the south side of the Mobil installation. That first culvert over the ditch would be the old SP rails which probably served the Mobil warehouse.

Here's looking east on the Union Pacific. We'll visit that place on the left, next.

This is the front of Cary's Iron Works, the original location, if there wasn't a previous Cary location. Back on South Railroad, we saw where Carey had moved and evidently, the move was not successful, or Cary passed on without someone to pick up the business, or Cary moved again. There are a million stories in the city, this is just one of them.

Cary did metalizing on top of your run of the mill iron work. Not everyone can do that. I can see why he wanted to take his business downtown.

Ever think about calling old phone numbers? I know, that sounds a little demented.

Here's the prof of my hypothesis.

To set your clock, the school buses were unloading and the streets were starting to get busy while I was becoming a person of interest. So, lets finish with the north side of the UP east-west rail passage. Here you can see the spur coming off of the UP and headed north to Ventura Foods, home of LouAna Cooking Oil.

There it goes into the gates after crossing North Railroad.

This is like putting a puzzle together and being on the home stretch. Did I mix metaphors? This next picture is the roof of a building at Lou Ana. Why?

Here's looking at Lou Ana's rail yard. It is for the loading of tank cars full of vegetable oil. Have ever thought about getting all oily? I worked as a mechanic, it's not what it made out to be. The active rails of the old SP to Washington connect with the Union Pacific above O14. I'm doing another wheelie. Can you see me waving?

I had done as much on this side as I felt comfortable doing.

I headed back south across the UP hump, turned at 014 and took this, one of my favorites. You might say the town's heart and intestines sat side by side. Drink a glass of water, you'll feel better.

These letters make a powerful statement.

I next proceeded to 015 to get some shots of the old T&P rail right of way which had come from Churchpoint and was headed to Bunkie. Now, I can see the wheels in your head coming off their spindles. If the T&P went to Bunkie and was on the west, and the SP went to Cheneyville, and is on the east, didn't they have to cross? Yes sir, good thinking, and it is an exciting place to stand. If you find the exact spot, the ground shakes. I've been there.

I know, you are experiencing a quiet moment of unimaginable reflection. But we have to move on.

At O15, the T&P rails crossed the street. I didn't test for shaking.

Looking south, this unknown business was obviously served by the railroad.

Down about a mile or so, in this guy's yard, guarded by 15 wild and crazy Rottweilers, was this signal.

This is the map for the next page. For some reason I find every MLKJRRD in every town I visit. I even found a MLKJR parade on the last ride. This MLKJR would take me to RR Wonderland, Opelousas style.

I stopped where you see 017 on the map. I looked to the right and this is what I saw.

I'd investigate. Stay tuned for more wheelies and skidding U-turns. My remaining picture folders are titled Shop Yard, Caboose, SP on 190, SP on La.182, Muscadine Rd, Sunset, and Extensive Information on those diesels. Plan an evening to review it all, coming to a computer near you, probably soon.

Having received a number of bouquets and one or two supportive reviews of page two, I've decided to press my luck and move forth with page three.

After leaving North Railroad Ave., I wanted to intersect the functioning AKDN line which terminates at a point just south of Ville Platte. It rides the rails of the old T&P route which went to Bunkie and is, by the way, the branch down to Churchpoint which Mike's Dad, the "Railroader", ran before he retired.

As I had said, school was letting out and there is a large one on the small road which would take me to the first point I could check the rails. I did not want to get mixed up in the post school mayhem. I went north and crossed on MLK.

I turned south on 3043 and stopped where you see "O17". That's where I saw the engines. I figured I'd found another AKDN enclave. This one would be much bigger than the one at New Iberia, seen in the Sugarcane Railroad Series.

I have a choice at this point as I have a lot of historical and technical information on the engines I saw there. I could go through all that right now or later. I usually choose the latter, later. So later it is.

I will show you what is in store for you if this page receives a similar number of bouquets and fond, heartfelt reviews. Otherwise, I'll just keep the pictures for myself in a vault where I can count them daily.

Enough titillation for now. Oh, almost forgot the caboose. There will be a full tour of the interior of this unmolested relic we all so much miss.

I found it hard to leave the yard. I know I could have gotten a tour of one of the diesel cabs if I'd asked. But, I didn't think of it. I said farewell to all the sick engines and wished them well.

Next, I headed back to US 190 because I'd never taken the shots I had originally come here for, those buildings there. The T&P hump yielded nothing much. The S&P was where I'd seen the "grand buildings".

I couldn't check out the front of these buildings because of the one way traffic on S.Railroad. How I missed the long cinder block building coming up S.RR Ave., I haven't a clue, unless, I remember, there was no place to park due to the construction activities and I figured I'd get it later. Later doesn't always work. I think the red brick building on down the line is the Dezauche and Son Building. I've just confirmed it, it is. I'm glad there will be no controversy over that. That loading ramp on the cinder block building is quite something. And, I know you, as I, regard the picture as one of the best. You may remain seated.

I was done. I did want to catch the exciting exit of the Southern Pacific as it left Opelousas, so I carefully watched the GPS as I rode south on 182.

I stopped where the rails crossed, the old community of Vetin. Had there been a station here?

This is looking east toward I-49. As seen on the map, the rails bend from this point and parallel the interstate going south. Could the interstate planners have recognized what an intelligent choice the SP had made choosing this route? I'm sure that was taken into consideration. Government often looks to private business for innovative ideas, having few themselves.

Looking back toward Opelousas, someone had marred the memory of the right of way with a junk car. I see that all the time and have been tempted to address this abomination with the land owners.

What is left at Vetin is this. Put Vetin on you next vacation route. Not only can you enjoy these Cajun delicacies, you can also view the old right of way. During this time of economic crisis, having destinations with multiple points of interest is the way to go.

Below Vetin, I attempted to visit the lost community of Naka. Did it have a station? A large subdivision, one that I would not have escaped from without the GPS, had consumed whatever had been there, and almost, me.

At Shuteston, I left 182 and headed east on 178 to Muscadine Road.

Muscadine follows the SP north. Where you see "Pershing" is where the line is and where I turned north on this beautiful back road. The grade is easily seen as you enter the road.

Check out this grade!

This is the coulee it crossed!

Check out how high the fill had to be!

I knew I was in a treasure chest of railroad artifacts if I'd just look closely. I dismounted. A crazed chihuahua barked uncontrollably as I poked around. Wham there it was, my reward, a block of cement with studs protruding. It was obviously a part of the trestle. I attempted to load it onto the bike. I'll have to get Al to help me next time. I might also think about doing some ab aerobics. Some butt aerobics might be helpful, also!

Beaming with my future prize in mind, I headed to Sunset to close this one out. Sunset if a very neat little town which sports some very tangible relics from the railroad days.

Coming into town on 178, the Depot Lumber Yard has a fine old building preserved there, on the old bed. The lumber yard also had a spur, as seen on the map. Look above La.93.

Where you see "Sunset" written, is where the next pictures were taken. As you can see from my tracks, I explored back into the neighborhoods once again. I must admit I became a little nervous. I found nothing worth a stop to shoot and did not want to become a target myself since Sunset has a few societal issues.

Adjoining the rails was this old warehouse.

And this old store.

This is looking toward Carencro and Lafayette. I'd cut it off here and head on home.

Addition to the Avoyelles Branch Article

From time to time I get a guest book entry. That's amazing. Then, every once in a while I get A GUEST BOOK ENTRY. Such was the case with Terry's. I just blew up my last write in disgust which is a good sign it's time to let someone else have the floor. Terry's note has come just in time. I make comments along the way. they will be in brackets ([my words]) And, I've edited it a bit.

Hello,

Came across your site and have thoroughly enjoyed it. I am from Marksville and really enjoyed the Avoyelles stuff. It brings back memories of early "train spotting" as a young kid.

[I think he is speaking of ride I did tracing the Texas&Pacific to Mansura, Louisiana]

You should have continued to Marksville where there is still evidence of the old grade as well as creosote timbers from the old trestle over Coulee Des Grues. A point of interest [is] the original depot in Marksville [which] became a feed & seed store and was later torn down in the mid 80's. It was at the end of the line where, as a kid, I remember one or two box cars parked behind the building which delivered feeds and such. We sometimes were brave enough to explore the interior of the cars when the doors were open.

The old depot building from Cottonport was moved to Marksville long after the line was abandoned and became a fruit and vegetable stand called "Blink's." Now it is a shop that sells concrete yard decorations and such.

I also remember, every once and a while, being able to see the old MP engines pushing one or two cars down the line whenever my mother shopped at Dixie Dandy near the line.

At Mansura, the line actually passed through the front parking lot of a Texaco station on the corner of Hwy 107 & Hwy 1. [I believe that station is now a tire store with a neat mural on it, my guess]

Other vague memories include going to "Simm's Oil" in Mansura with my uncle to buy drums of motor oil and hydraulic fluid for his farm in Hamburg. There would be one or two tank cars parked in the yard. This was an Exxon products distributor.

Also, we would go to Paul Wall Farm supply, which you indicate as the "Ag Industry" on your map. Besides the farm supply, there was the attached grain elevator. Behind that area was Roy Pecan Company which was beside the tracks. The pecan company burned to the ground in the early eighties with owner Shep Roy inside the building.

There were sometimes hopper cars parked beside Paul Wall's and a box car or two beside the pecan company.

Speaking of Hamburg, I would spend summers at my uncles farm. I would always run to the corner of the front yard whenever the KCS trains ran along the L&A line to "count" the cars and guess if there was or not a caboose at the end of the train.

There was a siding which went to the O.P. Berridon Feeds & Seeds business. I clearly remember going to visit my grandmother from Marksville while catching a ride with my cousin Randy. He was then a reporter for the Marksville Weekly News.

I'm not sure of the year, but there was a major derailment at the spur near the feed business. Traffic on Hwy 1 was stopped [for] nearly a mile away, but flames could be seen hundreds of feet in the air. Randy quickly grabbed his camera from the back seat and took off running along the highway to get photos for the newspaper. I think some of his photos were even used in the Baton Rouge paper reporting on the story.

Enough rambling. One last bit of info. I remember as an early teen, taking a Jeep ride with my uncle Mayeaux from Hamburg along to Big Bend and then going through woods roads all the way to the site of the old town of Naples on the Atchafalaya. There were concrete blocks where I imagine turn buckles secured the barges for the ferry. I didn't own a camera then so I have no photo's. I'd like to repeat that journey. I'm not sure if there are locked gates now, but my family owns property along the river just south of Naples and I may have access that way.

Also, I remember "frog hunting" with my brother along Bayou Courville and passing under an old trestle from the "tram" line as it was referred to by locals.

Then he wrote back:

One correction I just recalled. The Marksville Feed and Seed Store burned down in the early 80's..... There is a narrow one lane bridge a few hundred yards upstream called the Sarto Lane bridge which has been preserved and placed on the National Register. There is a visitors' center in the old Big Bend post office across the Hwy from it. My uncle, Carlos Mayeaux was instrumental in getting the bridge preserved.

Thanks Terry

If interested in Terry's Uncle's achievement, I have done a report visiting Big Bend, the museum and bridge location. The link is listed below. It has a very good collection of pictures in the store. I suggest a visit. It is the best two dollar tour in Louisiana and the ride there is scenic. The guide is very knowledgeable about the whole area and loves to tell it all. That area has a lot of varied history. Plan a morning there. The host is the guy that hooked me up with the train book that has led to so many of my recent adventures.

Here is a link to the Big Bend story, Going Around the Bend . I thought I'd done one when C.Alphonso had come but I remember I was too busy keeping him out of trouble to shoot any pictures. But, he insisted I take his picture as the store keeper. There would be no robbers at that store. Guaranteed. C.Al can get a little crazy.

I'll have to add this One to the Avoyelles Branch: From time to time I get a guest book entry. That's amazing. Then, every once in a while I get A GUEST BOOK ENTRY. Such was the case with Terry's. I just blew up my last write in disgust which is a good sign it's time to let someone else have the floor. Terry's note has come just in time. I make comments along the way. they will be in brackets ([my words]) And, I've edited it a bit.

Hello,

Came across your site and have thoroughly enjoyed it. I am from Marksville and really enjoyed the Avoyelles stuff. It brings back memories of early "train spotting" as a young kid.

[I think he is speaking of ride I did tracing the Texas&Pacific to Mansura, Louisiana]

I also remember, every once and a while, being able to see the old MP engines pushing one or two cars down the line whenever my mother shopped at Dixie Dandy near the line.

At Mansura, the line actually passed through the front parking lot of a Texaco station on the corner of Hwy 107 & Hwy 1. [I believe that station is now a tire store with a neat mural on it, my guess]

There were sometimes hopper cars parked beside Paul Wall's and a box car or two beside the pecan company.

Also, I remember "frog hunting" with my brother along Bayou Courville and passing under an old trestle from the "tram" line as it was referred to by locals.

Then he wrote back:

Thanks Terry

The Spillway StretchI've been looking through my mess and found a bunch of

lost pictures. They are of some very remote spots, and as

such, should be displayed to the general public as few

will ever venture to these places for personal reasons or

the fact that it makes no sense to go there. Below are

instructions, guides and explanations to make your virtual

visit go well. Bon Voyage.

Open the map below in a new window.

The yellow line is La. 10. It is gravel La.10 from La.77

to the Atchafalaya River where it continues west on a

two car ferry with a limited schedule. Everyone knows this

but may not have actually gone to see it. The orange line

is a railroad built by the T&P RR or a predecessor. I have

the vague application and documentation for it somewhere.

The location of this stretch is common knowledge, also, but

you may have not seen it either. The white line is something

I saw from the air when Mark and I were doing the

McNeely (sp?) Siding investigation. That got sidetracked

but is still an active investigation. I say it was an earlier

route. Whatever? Why was the investigation curtailed?

Mark's blimp sprung a leak. You can't imagine the noise

and how fast a deflating blimp can climb, then drop.

The red line is highway. Below the yellow line is La.77,

above the yellow line is La.10 going into Morganza, La.

Morganza is where the Easy Rider boys visited the cafe.

Mark has a girlfriend there. Some say two girlfriends,

but I think there's only one the way he talks about her.

On with this short ride. Leaving the pavement of either

La. 1o or 77, you head west over the Morganaza Spillway

levee. Be careful, the shoulders of this road are rounded.

Louisiana, in its dire need for funds, has started issuing

licenses for sign hunting. This one has been hit a bunch

but has not been officially bagged, so get yourself a license

and try to bring her down. Then you can mount it for

all of your friends to admire.

The levee is a big one. You would want it that way.

The river carries 1/3 of the Mississippi's flow on a slow day.

A sign reassures you that you are not crazy or now lost.

That statement may be untrue.

There are more reassuring green DOTD signs. You aren't over

10 tons, now? It is my guess that Texas Calvary General

Tom Green came riding down this road to defeat the

Yankees south of Melville at this place called Fordoche Bridge.

Back to "10 tons". It's about sinking the ferry. I rode over

with a huge combine one time. They had to center it like

a fat guy in a canoe.

Various crops grow here. Last time it was wheat.

A bayou or three inhabit this area with adjoining back swamps.

Eventually you will break out of the thickness.

Next is a shot from the cockpit of the 2kGuzzi Jackal.

I rode her today on my birthday run. More from that

ride shortly.

On my GPS screen, below, green is La.10 on the east bank,

orange is the railroad. The yellow lines are the T&P's historic

rails running north to Simmesport and southwest to Opelousas,

and ultimately to Crowley. The other green line is La.105.

Then you come to Stonehenge, Louisiana Railroad style.

I parked and marveled at it. The train cannot go ground

level here. Flooding would wreck the schedule. So it needs

Stonehenge to support it over the threatening waters.

Notice this shot is from February. Others are from June

and March. I often revisit my favorite spots. In fact, I'm

now feeling a need to visit here again.

There's the wheat I was talking about.

And a close up. I may bring a chair and wait for a shot.

Next, the gravel road intersects La. 973 which enjoys

just a little pavement and then turns into paved La.417 headed

north to Legonier. Wonder where this was taken from?

BTW, La.417 is a wonderful levee ride if you can deal with

the rounded shoulders.

Up there? These pictures were sent to me by Lawless

Armont. In his note he claimed I was his long lost father.

I don't know about the "father" part, but "long lost" is true.

He used that perch to get these. The road shot is looking

toward southward to East Krotz Springs. We are in a place called Red

Cross. I think the name originated from the floods of 1927

when the Red Cross set up base here to assist the flood

victims. It was high ground, maybe, or, the levee was intact

on this side. It sure wasn't on the Melville side. The rail

bridge eventually failed. I have a picture of it with a missing

span.

Dang, Lawless, you got a shot of my bike. I never even

saw you up there. What a coincidence!!

Good shots, maybe you are my son? Who's your mama?

Look at the wood and how it is marked. This bridge is

no longer available to walkers. I'm wondering if autos

ever crossed?

When these shots were aired in 2008, someone identified

the mechanism below as a car counter. Later he

amended that guess to "derailer". As a train engineer

you are barreling toward the opened bridge and can't stop or

you are asleep at the wheel. The derailer will derail the train,

beginning with the engine, you, Mr. Engineer, and then you'll

probably slide down the embankment and die. That beats

going into the Atchafalaya River and being eaten by a

300 lb. catfish with revenge written all over its whiskered

face. The above is speculative and not an authentic portrayal

of probabilities, real or imagined. I would suppose the green

thing means the derailer is not active being the bridge is

closed which means it's open for business. Confusion

necessitates the derailer. That's why you often see trains

stopping before attempting a 110 year old draw bridge.

Having not been derailed or gone off the bridge, we enter

Melville. These two maps show the abandoned rails going north

and southwest. The yellow line is the old "OG", the

Opelousas Gulf and Northeast Railroad which was absorbed

by the Texas and Pacific early on, like 1907. It may have

retained its name until about 1914, but the name "OG", in the

minds of the inhabitants, lingered for years. I've been

told that in Jeanerette, the name "Frisco" was used forever

after ownership moved to the MP. I'm using abbreviations

since if you are RR oriented, you all ready know what

I'm talking about, and if not, you probably don't care, so

I'll be economic with that understanding.

These maps were taken from Mark's blimp prior to the

"incident". From ground level you never notice the red

orange and yellow lines.

The Yellow line going north was the Texas and Pacific's

Simmesport route. I can't write on either anymore. Doing

so would make my head explode because there is just

so much you can know about something, then it gets ugly.

Extensive orations and albums upon albums of pictures

are somewhere else on this rag covering both branches.

As an added treat, I have a picture from today's outing.

Al has been wanting to become a brooding fashion model

since he heard about Naomi being given those blood

diamonds. He asked that I take this shot to submit to

Brooding Rail Watcher's Magazine. You have to hand

it too him, he might have finally found his calling. Lord

knows he been a searchin'.

The bed is calling me, more later with the Birthday Ride,

Part 2. Senior EL may recognize these tracks. A technical

discussion is included in the next one. Al, while brooding,

was able to figure out a tieing question and why EL is

graffitied everywhere .

Livonia to Red Cross (Atchafalaya Bridge)Note: if you see "Livonia" spelled "Lavonia" that's how I say it, so deal with it.

Yesterday I tossed up a few old pictures of the approach to the Melville rail bridge coming from the east, Livonia's big yard. Doing so made me want to go back and comb the area more than I have ever before, take some chances and push the envelope. Since I'm writing this I guess I made it. The lesson is, you can get away with a lot more than you think you can, especially if you are a little on the careful side due to having taken big chances and pushed the envelope a lot in earlier years. Evidently, I still have the knack to get away with stuff and write a confusing sentence.

The story starts like this. Besides the Morganza part of La.10, I wanted to check on the Huron Plantation, McNeely Spur, and the entire rail span between the big yard at Lavonia and the old rail bridge that crosses the Atchafalaya into Melville. That's all. I pulled out of the driveway at 11:30. It had rained hard up until 8:00 this morning. It was somewhat cooler as the sun hadn't gotten up a head of steam, yet, nor had I, to tell the truth.

I brought the DR650 since I knew there would be mud and gravel involved. Indeed there was a great amount of both to the point I was wondering if my semi knobby tires would be enough. A couple of times I felt the old familiar feeling of going sideways in a straight line. That's pretty cool at low speed. It's almost funny unless you fall in the mud that gave you such a chuckle.

I passed Huron and swore I'd be back. I remembered and got a shot there. I tucked in and did the Teche Valley Boogie to 190 and then on to Lottie where I'd get off and start my documentation at the yard off La.181. At Blanks, the old plantation buildings are falling down. The last hurricane tore them up. The owner is irresponsible, unable or unavailable.

I'm going to attempt to get one page out. I'm pretty tired.

At the 181 crossing I, just because, shot into the yard.

It was very quiet. There is a lumber yard there. I was

once told about it, but have forgotten. It is obvious that

a spur was there at one time.

Next picture was up the line headed to Melville. This, at

one time, was the T&P RR's route. It goes through Grosse

Tete, then crosses a swamp and comes into Addis on the

route that follows La.1, another T&P use to be.

Below:

Next stop was under US 190 which you can see in the

above shot way off in the distance. This is looking back

toward the yard. If you take that left, you go to the HP

Long Bridge at Baton Rouge.

Looking to the north, where we are headed to River Station

Road.

I looked back, there seemed to be a train a coming, but

never did while I was there. I also like doing a little train

photography, have you noticed, and wanted to catch it

coming under 190 from under 190, not one that's commonly

seen.

There is a dirt shortcut that goes from 190 up through the

fields past an old Black cemetery. It also follows the rails.

Stuff is growing fast. The rain was good last night and all

was fresh and clean. There was lots of standing water.

It was on this road I got sideways. This is River Station

Road. What station? A train station or a river gauging

station. There isn't a river that would need gauging near,

so I'm saying there was a train station near a small river.

But, I'm a romantic.

I made it to the crossing and the cemetery. It is one of my

favorite places.

Dang, that no good lazy train was coming. All I had to

do was leave and it decided to come. That's "1".

I had time to shoot a few local shots.

Here she comes.

She was headed to the Melville bridge and on up to

Pametto, Bunkie, and into Alexandria. From that rail hub,

who knows?

I reached La.77 and went on into Fordoche, immediately

finding Railroad Ave N. and S. This was where the depot was.

That's where we came from.

This is looking across the tracks at the big church and

and N. Railroad from S. Railroad.

I crossed 77 and went up Viola which dead ends. This

is a pretty town and area.

Here's looking across the trestle above going north, where

we are headed.

Next, off 77, was McNeeley Spur. I still have no idea what

was there and just missed talking to the farmer that owns

the land. That's his tractor down there. The gate was open.

He'd probably gone home to eat. Later his truck was there

and no tractor. He knew the story, I'll bet.

This is the trestle across Fordoche Bayou, and across the

highway from McNeeley Spur.

This is looking further down the spur than I have in the

past. I walked the rails back there.

This is looking back to the main line and the tractor to the

right.

Yep, I got a spike. What is the significance of a purple D?

I was huffing and puffing a bit.

I'm guessing this is the McNeeley place and where the farmer

went to eat.

Next, I left 77 and went in to New Ravenswood. The "new"

has been dropped. Not many know that there was an old

Ravenswood, but this trip has proved it. The story goes

this church was moved from the Morganza Floodway because

of obvious reasons which included the possibility of impromptu

baptisms by the Father of Waters. This church is cement

blocks, it wasn't moved, but the congregation, alive and dead,

were. One thing of interest is that it is protected by the Masons.

It is a Black church. Figure that story out.

Behind it are these numbered graves. They were moved

by the corps from the old church location on the other

side of the levee.

An old lady told it all to me a while back.

I went to the crest of the levee. I hadn't found a way

to get to the rails since Fordoche. I wanted to take the levee

to where the rails crossed it but there was one of those

scary signs that say private property. But, there is a levee

authority shop right there, so I asked if it was OK. They

gave me a pass and told me to have fun.

Off I went down the limestone crested levee with a bird's eye view of everything.

I came to the rails and was a little disappointed. I thought

it would be the beginning of the the Stonehenge rail trestle

which I thought went all the way across the floodway to

Red Cross on the Atchafalaya River.

McNeeley Spur is down there.

The Atchafalaya and the floodway are down there. Where

was Stonehenge?

Back to La.10 I flew.

Arriving, I went west into the floodway.

This was bayou Fordoche and the last location of the

Ravenswood Church. It is overgrown now, but I've been

back there with Al and the previous graveyard is clearly

seen.

Back in there. But, this is still not Old Ravenswood as shown

on the map above.

I turned where you see Old Ravenswood on the map.

There is a hunting camp there where the community was.

I ran down what is called Lario Road to this section of

Stonehenge which projects eastward from this road, back

toward where I was on the levee. Of course, I climbed it.

That's looking east toward McNeeley.

And west on more fill. Stonehenge is in sections, not a

complete line as I thought from seeing the old pictures.

Those shot are priceless since on this trip sugarcane bared

me from seeing the bridge. These are the old shots.

That's why I call it "Stonehenge"

This is the span that was hidden today by the sugarcane.

This is looking toward that hidden section.

Getting down I took this shot. The snakes must have been

sleeping.

I came to the farm, marked on the map. The old map says

this was once La.10. There's Stonehenge up ahead. Look

on the map. You can see my course did not follow 10 here.

Now that's another mystery.

Page 2

Heading west down La.10.

This is a Louisiana bridge at its best.

The shade is nice and cool. The bugs like it, too.

I love it when pictures talk.

There's the underpass. I had no inclination to climb it today.

I think I have the best possible pictures of what's up there,

and like everything else, it's gotten grown over, as have I.

The landing is not a very busy area. In fact, if wanting a place

for a perfect picnic, this is it. There may be someone fishing,

but they are usually quiet.

This picture is replicated 1532 times in my collection.

I would be careful with the "demand" part.

Just toot your horn and she'll come running. Sorry

weekenders, you can toot all day and only upset the

fishing public.

That's where the Melville crevasse was in 1927.

Looking from the Melville side before the span loss.

This is the landing area. It's a park.

I took a few parting shots. Who knows when I'll be back?

It is far enough from paved La.10 and La.77 to be considered

remote. It's over 20 miles from Krotz Springs down a gravel

road and 20 miles from Simmesport/Lagonier down a long

paved road. It's not far from Melville, but the trip is iffy,

especially if a combine is your riding partner, or too many fat boys.

A little bridge, a little underpass.

It takes real faith to cross that one. Back up the levee.

This is about as pretty as a lowland road gets.

Back at New Ravenswood Church

Back to River Station Rd. which had dried out a little.

And the cemetery.

And another train. There was no cover and I'd already

gotten a train shot here, so I moved on to my perch under

US 190 at Lavonia in the shade of the overpass.

Looking into the yard from River Station Road. That's

the US 190 overpass down there.

There, I and the dead opossum waited.

For about 2 hours.

I have 250 shots from here. Most are very artsy. I'll

be publishing a book entitled, "From Under the 190

Overpass", if you'd care to purchase.

This is just a sampling.

I finally left going west on 190. What? My train had been

waiting for this sucker? I did a bat turn and crossed over

and flew back to my perch. The train has to really slow

down to make this curve so I did catch a bit of it. Black

Stallions were pulling. The cars were howling in that

turn . The sound was worth it. It was like they were

talking in screeches. Complain, complain, complain.

You didn't hear anything from the male cars.

It went down there and parked. Now, would my train move?

That was "2".

No, it was waiting for something else.

I gave up and left again. Again, here came another train

from the west. I bat turned and returned, a little late on

this one. I had gotten real practiced at sliding the last

turn in the approach. That was "3".

The parked train was on the right.

The new train was on the left.

I guess my train was in the middle.

I gave up.

I shot the bike and the battery showed dead. The artsy

shots had eaten it. BTW, the sugarcane was really knocked

down by last night's weather. Not just here, but all that

I saw in this area. There must have been some powerful

down burst.

I left having struck out. It was 4:30, hot and Mr. Opossum

was getting ripe.

I cleaned the batter contacts and hoped for a couple more

shots. This is the Huron Plantation School, now a Head

Start facility. I have a bunch of conflicting info on the

plantation and the railroad that was associated with it.

I may venture into that arena later, but that's later.

More to come.