2007 LaFourche The First Ride

The First Bayou LaFourche Exploration (a 2007 e-mail to friends)

By sheer chance I found the 5 e-mail pages I'd sent out in 2007, almost exactly 5 
years ago.  "Geocities", Yahoo's  free website provider was still around but not 
for long. I had grown tired of creating e-mail addresses in order to gain more 
room for posting my rides.  Soon, I'd have to scurry and figure out how to download
the different domains in one piece. At least that is what I wanted to do.

Feedback was poor from my readers and there were many. The counter would 
hit 300 on some nights.  I felt no loyalty to them, but still wanted to write, but to
only for a few.  The following is that breakaway group of 5 email pages.

This was a  "ride report", as there was no "History Hunts" or other concocted blogs.
It  was not very "deep" in research but meant only as a tour that my buddies could check 
out as a possible destination or not, letting the write  be enough of a visit.

As seen by the date stamp, it was mid-June, not our hottest month, but still warmish.
Visiting the Lafourche Valley should be done in the summer. June qualifies, so I 
suggest it. You can experience South Louisiana as it is meant to be experienced.
Yet, possibly you won't die from that experience.  There is a wet heat that begins in 
mid-May and lasts, to some degree,  until Christmas.

Enough of an introduction. This transfer has already cost me approximately 2 hours, 
a labor of love, but  nonetheless, labor.

Remember, this was prior to all the railroad infatuation though tinges can be seen growing.
I'd return to this area 3 more times.  Those rides may be added to create a trilogy plus 1.
Insert: McCall to Shriever has just been added. It is the most recent visit. There are at least 3
others, possibly 4 and all will be published. The area is that intriguing if only beauty would be
the measure.

So, here we go. I'll add comments along the way, erase embarrassing problematic prose
and try to clarify what I was trying to say possibly to the detriment of what was clearly  written.

  A  Ride Up the Lafourche Valley

Here's last weekend's ride which I promised to a few people
with whom you don't break promises. I no longer have the patience
to deal with Geocities, so here's the simple answer, a ride note.
Or, maybe, a series of ride notes.

{I was still putting most captions beneath the pictures}


I had to get across the Atchafalaya Basin. I chose to go all the way to Morgan
City since riding my bike across I-10 is a big gamble on several levels.
After shooting down to Olivier on Old US 90, now called La.182,
I headed east, bypassing the little towns by jumping Bayou
Teche and using La.87 as loops around them.. Soon I was crossing
the Atchafalaya and looking for the road to Labadieville, a place I'd seen
mentioned in my year long dance with the Civil War in Louisiana. I was
determined to go to Labadieville. I got off 4 laned US 90 at Amelia. I should have done
one more bridge and gotten off after it. The GPS was vague at this point because
she, yes, it's a she with a she voice and all the mannerisms of a controlling
female included. She had been squacking at me since I left Breaux
Bridge. I had made the mistake of entering a route that I had no
intention of following, but would like to keep as a reference if I
was to cross it. She didn't like that and fussed at me every 2 minutes
until l  gave up and silenced her. "Turn left, turn right, make a
U-turn as soon as possible", and on and on. I even disabled
"U-turns", but she wouldn't relent. I also laughed at her. I know that
didn't help my cause which problably landed me on the wrong
side of the bridge in Amelia on purpose where I followed the road that seemed
to hook up with the Labadieville road, but didn't. It came to a dead
end at a place which is the take off for many, no doubt, headed
for the offshore platforms that support the oil industry in the Gulf.
So much for that helicopter picture's explanation.

Following the water, which I think is yet another Bayou Boeuf, not the one in Central La.,
I came to yet another casino.

{The bayou's name has been verified}
I figured I'd seen the readily available high points of Amelia and
took the old bridge over the bayou. The wind was gusting as
the old span rose high into the breeze which brought on my acro-
phobia which reminded me  that I had no need for
mountain passes. I'd have to crawl over them. No, not "crawl" as
in "going slow", but actually crawl, hugging the ground like a snake.
That ain't happening. Been there ......

I saw a road that left the main road, La.662, and followed it. This
classic South La. scene presented itself. If you've never been down
on the bayou in deepest South La., {in the heat} it's hard to relate the feeling,
even with a picture. I think sound, smell and movement are needed.
Heck, why didn't I just say, "You'd have to be there"?
I think that the hotter it gets, the better the feeling is felt. It was
a very cool day but I still got the feeling because I'm familiar with it.


The road to Labadieville lay out before me. (La.20}It is a straight highway.
Some new to the sport may think a straight road is a boring road.
Us old bucks know different. That's where we can practice.
I like to practice my standing on the seat trick, driving with my
feet trick, riding backwards trick, and driving with my feet trick,
on this kind of road.
Oops, did I repeat myself?
That's an old buck thing, too.
The road crosses multiple bayous. One had a little shell landing
where people were fishing. This would be their afternoon view.
Again, sound, smell, motion, and let me include "feel", would augment
this picture. If "feeling sticky" isn't on the menu, then you aint' gettin'
the whole picture. Even on a sub-90 day, "feeling sticky" plays a part.
Now, I don't want to hear from a bunch of pro-feeling sticky advocates with hurt feelings.
I love "feeling sticky" or I wouldn't live down here. Our " feeling sticky" trumps
"snow" and "not feeling your toes" any day of the week.
Ok, I'm sending this chapter off.
There are 5 more parts to this trip. I might do another one tonight,
or I might not do anymore at all.
Additions to come, maybe:
Labadieville
Napoleonville
On the road between them.
Plaquemine
Gross Tete
I-10, Whiskey Bay, La.975, Krotz Springs.
Well that's actually 6 and I'm forgetting one.
Later, Steve

Email No.2

 
{That's La.1 going down to Labadieville.

I just noticed "Chuch Spur. I may have to return yet again.}

La.662 had turned into 308 and that had brought me into Labadieville.
It felt like South Louisiana, but I also had a feeling that I was in France
or maybe New Brunswich, though I've never been to those places,
so how was I to feel that way? Maybe the movies? 


I don't know if there are above ground graves in New Brunswich or France.
There are in S.Louisiana.


I could see the church up ahead but thought since I was getting
this strong S.La. feeling, a picture of this house might help convey it.
Added: The religious shrine in the front yard is signature south Louisiana of the past.


That is a shrine to the Virgin Mary in the front yard. I remember,
back a ways, every house had a shrine in the front yard.
Or, it seemed like that anyway.
Without question, I was in a very religions community.
Added: Don't mess with these people's religion or their guns.
That's a warning.

Below is the Bayou Lafourche Bridge.

This is a public  area.  I would advise the ACLU to leave this one alone.
Gators leave very little remnants.

The churches I would see along this
bayou would be of outstanding architecture.
Across the highway, another shrine was on the bayou.
Next to it was a sign identifying Assuption Parish as a sister
to Prince Edward Island, Canada, "Two flags, one people"
is what is written there. "One people" refers to the common
French heritage they share. I told you I had a New Brunswick feeling!

I  knew you wanted to walk out on that bridge and look down the bayou.
This bayou once was an active distributary of the Mississippi
River. That means it was an active part of the Delta, an
outlet to the Gulf. It isn't anymore though it might do La. some
good if it was again. The bayou is obviously  not moving much here.

Above: These buildings were on the church square. I would bet that it
is the priest's home.  What a great old store that is beside it.
{Both  identifications were assumptions.)
Across the bridge I saw these old buildings.

They drew me. 

 I recrossed the bayou and headed north. On the edge of town
I found these old steel buildings. I believe they are left overs
from WWII. They may be what was referred to as Quonset Huts.
Here is what was a full service filling station. I saw the work bays
on the side. Across the street was this one.
 
No telling what it was since I didn't investigate like I should have.
Just up the road was what I believed was a sugarcane mill of some
kind. The stack was gone, or never existed. I now think I was wrong.
It had a hoist that looked like a sugarcane loading setup. A loading setup would not be at a mill.

{That was another wild assumption}
Down the road was an old farm. The land slopes away from the
bayou. The homes, farms, and towns are located on the highest
ground around, the land next to the bayou. This sounds contrary
to reason unless you know a little geology. Bayous flood, or they
use to before the coming of the COE. No, not David Allen, but
the Corps of Engineers which rearrange Nature. Now they don't
do much but let salt water in. When they did flood, they deposited
silt upon their shores. Silt built on silt and the land rose. That's
what is still happening within the levees of the Atchafalaya Basin.
It is silting up and the Corps's grand plan is not working.
Back to the silting process. The raised land is called a "natural levee".
Civilization flocked to the natural levees in South La. Our roads are
on the natural levees. Bayous meander (twist) which makes
our levee roads really nice for the peg dragging crowd.
All right, that was Labadieville. I didn't find the Civil War Historical
Marker I was looking for. Here's what happened there.
If you are historically inclined, you can read HERE.
That's it for this evening.
By the way, the bayou is spelled LaFourche.
I knew that didnt' look right.
Read that link.

Email No. 3

After Labadieville, I continued the ride north. I don't know why, but I'm always knocked out by
these antebellum homes. "Antebellum" means "before the war".
A slaves cottage can be an "antebellum home".
For the most part those have not survived the years.
Back to what showed up and again shocked me with its beauty.


I don't believe the smaller house would have been the "slave quarters"
Maybe it was for his mother in law? 
 
Next was Nepoleonville.
Nepoleonville seemed to have been a cosmopolitan center at one
time back in the hay day. Napoleonville is in disrepair now. It was
a very sad place. It didn't have the life that Labadieville seemed to radiate.
Here are a few pictures. Remember, I really work at showing you the
best side of towns. In this case, I was not going to venture into the lesser part.

{Napoleonville would be an important destination in my future railroading hobby.}

The main town church was pristine.

This is the courthouse. There were
monuments to soldiers of the First
and Second World Wars. I didn't see
the Civil War mentioned though this
area did see some action.

{I figure the reason for the  absence of Civil War recognition is obvious,
the powers that be having "shifted".}

Back off the main street, La. Highway 1,
the buildings were not in such good shape.
Hebert's might still be open, naw.
Napoleonville had sported three story buildings. I didn't really
investigate enough to make a guess at what they were. The
white one on the corner is a cafe or was. There's nothing upstairs.
Above was taken to show the refinements of the building.
Look at the stained glass.
The building behind it was a hotel
at one time, I'll bet. Then it was the Mason's Hall. 
 
Across from the cafe was what I believed to be lawyer offices.
I didn't read the plaque because I hadn't noticed it.
Down the street was another fine ornate building. Another plaque?
The homes were deteriorating. The style made me realize I was
getting closer to the Mississippi River for some reason. Evidently
I'd gotten out of New Brunswick. (you would have had to read the
first chapters of this ride to get that)
Moving north, I just caught a glimpse of
the historical marker and u-turned. It was another classic
Episcopal Church. That is their basic
design of the era. It was done in wood,
in the same way. There is
one in Church Point Mississippi that
is really impressive. The one in Cheneyville
is, also. Then there's the one in Clear Springs.
Then there's the one...... all have something in common.
They were visited by the fella mentioned below.

{Now there's a Civil War acknowledgement, if slightly a stretch.}
Here we go, Civil War buffs, look up the Rt.Rev. I'm not doing it for you.
Just as a kicker, I'll tell you that Fort Polk was named for him
and not that President. Another president, Jefferson Davis, was Polk's boss.

Down the road another church showed up.
Is the priest's house to the left? The cemetery is to the right.
Here is another large Catholic church which goes back a 
ways, way before the Episcopal one was built.
 
Close by was this home, still on the property.
 Maybe this was the priest's house or possibly a  nunnery?
Still on the property is what I see as an old store.
Did the diocesedo a little mechantiling?
Moving north, but still close to Napoleonvile I found this one.
I've seen homes in this condition saved. It is close to the point of no return.
The roof appears to be Spanish tile.
Maybe not? But, you see what I mean about the point of no return?
A fella in a Harley t-shirt was mowing the yard. I think he really
liked the fact that his house was getting some attention.
 This was the real deal south La. country home. Note the cistern.
I lived in a house where cistern water was the only indoor water.
My mother threatened to go back to north Louisiana.
The City of Houma, fearing her loss, put in "city water" the following year.
Oh, cistern water commonly moved on its on.
More later.

Email Note 4

The ride was panning out nicely. I was getting my fill of history, the pretties, and good
riding. By a miracle it hadn't rained yet. We are experiencing a true monsoon season,
the likes of which I remember living in Houma back in the late 50's. Ah, I love the sight of
steam coming off of white shell roads as the showers began and ended. It gets hot, really hot
until you believe you have landed on Venus. There were no air conditioners but we survived.  Then, right at the moment when the heat and dehydration has its grips on your soul, it rains.
The temperature drops 15 degrees  for 15 minutes.
Then the cycle replays.

 For the first time that day, the sky is as wet as you are. The heat thing hadn't begun this day. In fact
it was pretty cool. Look at the sky. Mother Nature was getting her act together. I was
just ignoring her and going about my business. That's what you have to do if you ever
want to go riding for the day in South La. It's water, you won't melt and the sun will
come out and you'll dry off. And sweat.

At Belle Rose, I crossed the bayou and took this picture.It looked as if someone had 
 landscaped the bayou. I really like the "elephant ear" looking things. Who planted those?
Just kidding.

Antebellum overload was coming on. Which one was  this?
  
 
I had found it. The battle here had been a skirmish, yes. 

But, big things come of small things. 

This small thing would
evolve into an embarrassing defeat for the Union Army,  up the road a piece. 

Unfortunately, the general who skirmished here would lose his life up the road. 

It is rewarding  when you can start putting stuff together. 

Check out the Battle of Kock's  Plantation.
Check out even  More on St. Emma.
{Gee, I hope those links still work.}
 
This had been a family farm, no doubt. 

{Next up was Palo Alto, another important stop in my railroading explorations to come.
Insert: Check out the "McCall to Schriever" ride for a good look into Palo Alto.
This was Texas & Pacific RR country}

 
Above, yet another one. But, not "antebellum". Palo
Alto, were these guys from CA? Just kidding. I saw no surfboards.
 

 No, but a horror film was partially shot here.

 

  And look who lives here.



After rushing through Donalsonville, left for another day, I headed up La.1 toward Plaquemine.
I stopped at the historical marker below and noticed that yet another La. highway was
gravel. Again, Louisiana is a trend setter. Why
wait for roads to deteriorate? Build them like that and save time. 

Now we are getting onto the Way Back Machine. If that rings a bell, then you are a
Bullwinkle and Squirrel fan.  Name the kid that had the WBM. Ok, enough.
Father Paul Du Ru sounds familiar. I think he wasup at Fort Adams, also. 

{That ride has been rewritten and may be republished. Look for it on History Hunts.
It is called Fort Adams or close.}

Check out the story:  Click Here.
I got to the Plaquemine Ferry. I knew it existed, but I didn't know it ran on a weekend.

What a magnificent place to be riding a four wheeler. 

 
I went directly to the Plaquemine Locks, a favorite place of mine. You can go inside
and see all the exhibits for 2 bucks, open all the time. It is a AAAAA destination.

 

The Dutch architecture is different. Read this site.





A lot of local families came through here. An Ellis Island of the Acadians?

{Uh oh, I shot the train bridge, I would shoot it again 500 times}

 

I'll add this link here since I just found it and don't want to lose it. It includes good
information about here if your bike has a motor or not.
Click Here. 
Above is the old Plaquemine bridge. It was used in conjunction with the locks.
The concrete in the counterweights is disappearing.
I don't think it functions anymore.
It is an awing monster. It was built in 1950, not that old, or maybe it is. URG.
 

The blue stuff is the Mississippi. La.77 is where
we go next. It should show La.77 with a cloud over it, cuz I got wet there.

 
Right across from the locks is the old city hall.
The courthouse at Clinton is just a little
older.

 
In the same neighborhood was this Victorian. 

Plaquemine is an architectural treasure trove.
 
Down the way was this one.
 
And across the street was this one. It can get to be a little over powering. 
But, then you start learning the stories behind them and  they
cease to be so many marbles in a bag.
Then you start wondering about what happened here
during the Civil War. 

It just dominoes.
More dominoing later.
I still have to get home and it looked like rain.
The promise of I-10 and Whiskey Bay were
on my mind.


 The Last Note
I rode out of Plaquemine on La.77 going north
through the rain to Gross Tete which
sits as the first town on I 10, east of the
Atchafalaya Basin. I decided to go for it and
ride the hated, despised interstate home. It was
late and the clouds were  getting heavy.
I hopped on 10 and matched speed with the traffic
as motorcycles are invisible to
some. Up the ramp to the Basin Bridge I climbed. 

 Most of the traffic settled into the posted 60 mph limit. Some didn't. 

At Whiskey Bay I'd have
one more chance to get off if the
weather looked bad. The Basin Bridge is not a place
to be in a downpour. A bike becomes
a sitting target and people lose any sense they
might have possessed.  A drizzle can
bring on a wreck. A wreck can easily stop traffic
for 5 hours.  Crossing that 16 mile long
bridge and saving an hour is false economy.
At Whiskey Bay I saw the sky ahead becoming a black
mass.  I bailed out and got on gravel, sand, dirt and mud, La.975.
It was the better choice as I would learn.
Besides, I'm in my element on those surfaces.
Above is the rotating train bridge across Bayou Gross Tete just south of town.
Below is the remnants of the old "downtown".
Below is the first time I stopped. The washboard road was almost unbearable, but it wasn't
raining and I was going slow at my own pace and there were no crazed killer semi
pilots bearing down on me. The haze is humidity or the post rain steam I was talking about earlier.
Here's a new ride when September comes around.
The road would change surface material depending, I guess, on what was available to
fill the sink holes at the time. 
 
I crossed the tracks right after a train had gone by.

{You can see the railroad bug had bitten}
 
The tracks were a welcomed sight as 975 was getting old. I guess it is about 25 to 30
miles long. At 35 mph, constantly watching for washouts and mud, it can get tiring.
At the atv trail there are clean bathrooms. 5 stars.  Later I would get a great
bike for all surfaces. My world would open up with nothing to hinder my passage.
I crossed US 190 to see if the gate was opened to what is left of old old US 190.
I'll be contacting these people to get a chance to photograph what it was like taking the old
road. Notice how great the old surface is. Did we forget how to build roads?
There's the "twin" bridges at Krotz Springs. Over I went. West of KS, the speed limit
goes up to 65. I got home and my wife said the rain had just
stopped and that it had been a gully washer.
That's it. The west bank of the Mississippi River from Baton Rouge toNew Orleans to the Atchafalaya
is an intriguing area. It is what I call South Louisiana. I suggest visiting it in August when you
can be sure of getting sticky. July might be chancy, naw, it's sticky, too. Bring a cane pole, string, hooks and some crickets. If something bites and it pulls real hard, LET  GO .

More rides later if you want them.

Over and Out.