HISTORY HUNTS WAREHOUSE

Escape from Melanchonasia.

The TV is off, my wife is watching Grey's Anatomy's season finale in the other room and finally I have time to admit to myself that I'm an idiot. Actually, between you and I, I'll use a few choice adjectives to accentuate that description.

More on that later. Here's the outing:

I left about 1:00 in the afternoon. Immediately, I realized that I had no lust for the ride.

Nevertheless, I continued on.

It had been a while since I'd gone down True Friend Rd., my route between the west side of St.Martinville and the west Bayou Teche Road. It is a pretty cruise through farmland with no traffic. I guess "Melanchonasia" best describes where I was. Melanchonasia is not a bad place to be. It is a very undemanding and resigning location. The only downfall is that your attention span drops almost to "0" there.

West on the Terrace Rd., then west on Duchamp Rd. and I was at Old US 90, north of Cade. I needed gas so I headed to the casino that has good prices if you don't go in.

On the way here came the container train with all the multicolored boxes. I, as a rail photographer, like it as a subject. A time lapse shot of it passing would be the bomb. The blurred colors transitioning in intensity from one to another would be interesting if not a little reminiscent of a few rides I've taken in the past. {In downpours on city streets, what were you thinking?}. Alas, Lady Melancondra had paralyzed my trigger finger and I couldn't get off a shot. Later, I discovered it was because a flipping switch on the camera was flipped the wrong way. The train was headed north to Lafayette. I didn't care. Usually, I'd do a bat turn, raise the front wheel of the bike off the ground and scream Geronimo as loud as necessary until I lost control flying into a ditch or flipping over backwards. Lust has its price. None of that would happen for a while.

I ended up in New Iberia and wondered why I was there.

To end this wonderment, I left and headed north for no other reason but to not be in New Iberia. What was once a fun place now isn't.

My train radio is an amazing tool. It wakes me up

when Lady Melancondra has me seduced. It did its job again.

Was Wil Smith on the mike? I could see his droopy eyes.

To be mothers, do not take Qualudes during pregnancy.

1503 was headed out of the gate at The Yard and barreling south.

I had time to make it to Alligator Point. Yes, I did a wheelie and crashed into the ditch.

There he went.

Realism is not my forte' dealing with photography.

I say divorce reality and the possibilities are endless.

Some may even call blurred pictures of mundane trains, "art".

My thoughts on artists:

"Artist colonies" are colonies because artist cannot operate in reality so they create their own

little cadres where they feel more worldly, accepted and appreciated. The movie,

"The Matrix", comes to mind.

Oh, Charles, isn't that an amazing picture! Yes, it is dear.

I do believe it's an early Steveneaux.

Indeed, it has all the right headache producing blurred colors

and surreal levitation for which his work is known.

We must ask him to join our commune.

Ok, I had the camera in high digital zoom which is good for nothing but art.

I am extremely proud of the one below.

At the Lafayette Yard I found the container train tied down.

For those that don't know what "tied down" means, let me explain.

When the train crew gets tired, they go to sleep. Before they can go to sleep

they have to physically tie the train to a post so it doesn't roll off.

See the post next to "45" . "45" is the number of minutes they are allowed to sleep.

The Lafayette Yard has a limit as it is a busy place.

It is sorta like a "room by the hour" deal but in their case, it's a sleeping car for 45 minutes.

That is their sleeping car. See Bill bartering for the backseat?

Looks like he bought himself the bench. Nite Bill.

I moved west and waited for them to wake up.

There must have been a time zone continuum because I lost 2 or more hours under
this bridge, location, a secret.

I finally gave up ...... so here it came when I had retreated to Rayne.
This was a case of patience vs "the clock".
"The clock" tag represents, in this case, my inner feeling that I've been in
one place too long and my outing could be in some sort of peril if I remained stagnant.
I have several pictures of trains so that was no loss, I tried to tell myself.
Then my life long monkey, competitiveness, jumped on my back.
A U-turn was made and the front wheel came up.
After I picked up the bike I was on my way.

The Geronimo holler done, I was in hot pursuit.

Below is when I almost fell off. Spurring 27 horsepower in the ribs can have consequences.

In Mermentau, I caught it. I love the old Santa Fe red design. She was heading up 5 engines.

But, the container train was not led by an ex Santa Fe engine. I just figured that out.
Wrong train. How had it gotten past the Container?
Probably on another track .... but I can't get technical right now.

The Mermentau bridge is a very slow speed deal. Top speed across that span may be 25mph.
That is why I caught her. She was doing a real 55 plus out on the prairie.

Yes, this would be a repeat of the last ride on Tuesday, or was it Monday? Anyway, the ride

to Iowa Junction is what I'm referring to. I was again on the Old Spanish Trail.

Ghosts of Conquistadors ride this road. It is a heavy place.
You can hear the wagons and hoofs of the frontiersmen parting the gravel where
the grader had formed a mountain range of 4 foot deep rock that is impossible to navigate.
If you try to ride on the scalped dirt along the edges of the road you will slide into the
ditch as it is talcum in consistency.

People have been out here chasing one thing or another for 400 years.

How long had I been there? I'm still wondering what happened to those 2 hours.

Crawfish ponds and mud boats have always been favorites subjects of mine.

I inserted these pictures to ease my concern over lost time.

These ageless valves are relaxing, likewise, if not a little melancholic.

I was looking for the Sunset Limited again. The trees were different.

A fog seemed to have engulfed the land.

Then it lifted. Birds sang, small animals frolicked about as a Model A

carrying Edwin Edwards rolled by. He stopped and asked me for my vote.

The sun was going down.

I gave up, I was back in Crowley and here came the container train.

I'm going to figure that time lapse stuff out and do one long picture. Pardon the picture.

Oh, here's the schedule I was looking at before leaving.

Too bad it was Thursday. Who made out that schedule, Bush?

In the beginning of this page I admitted to myself that I was an idiot.

Possibly I'm not but merely made to think so by the lie spewing Democratic Party.

Now I'm going to show you some highlights from this ride.

Bill Bartering.

The Container Train

Racing that Santa Fe train west.

At Mermentau

Along the OST. See the Conquistadors? See me in the ditch? See Edwin Edwards?

Mud Boat and Pond. I'm wondering about the redness on the boat.

Ageless Valves

Ageless Valves and Irrigation Canal

Rainbow Container Train @ Crowley

Tonight's ride is dedicated to Betty Crocker. My wife said she enjoys my journal.

She's the Carrot Cake Queen of these parts, I guarantee!!

Betty, finding out you liked these things blew whatever is left of my mind.

Thanks.
BTW, Mark just exited Melachonasia when I mentioned Carrot Cake.
He hit a tree and then went in the ditch.

Pearl River Canal (Edited 2012)

This paragraph is a 2012 update of this 2008 ride report.

This portion about an old lock on the Pearl River is an

an example of what I once did which was to ride around

aimlessly and take pictures of what I found pretty or interesting.

I was starting to get heavily involved in historic railroads.

This portion of the ride fed into a report on the GMO RR.

I have sense separated the two events because they have

nothing to do with each other besides happening in the

same general area. This one deals with "pretty" and "interesting".

It required no research or dealing with people on any level,

always a roller coaster ride.

I'm headed back to the peace, tranquility and simplicity of those outings.

They will go something like this:

I left the Folsom area at about 2:30 and was just going down to the Pearl for a few parting shots before I left the area for a while. I will no longer have my base camp so close to the river or to Mississippi. This is a sad time.

Nevertheless, the ride wasn't sad, and in fact, it was super on most levels. I'll first post the map so you'll have an idea if you are at all familiar with the furthest eastward reaches of southeast Louisiana. The Pearl River is where LA stops and MS starts. The Pearl lives up to its name, nothing further needs to be said. For those who have frequented Two Wheelin' LA and MS for a while, you know there are probably six visits to this same place on those pages. If possible, there will be more. But, this is this one. The spot below is sacred to me. It is overlooking the Bogue Chitto River Valley La.437, south of Enon. It is one of the gates I used to enter a world that few get to experience.

These pages I do are a Karma thing. I figure if I keep sharing these trips, I'll be able to keep making them. It's that simple. You thought I was generous? You're living in Disney Land. Earl taught me about Karma. Back to this place. It is where I throw my watch in the weeds and return to find it on the way back. Yes, there are a few that I didn't find, the one my wife gave me and another one. The another one was not a problem. There's an old movie where the lead actor throws away his watch, ever see it? It was a pretty cool gesture but he was nevertheless tormented by time. Gestures are gestures, like these writes ride reports.

The watch graveyard.

Head east of La.16 from anywhere and when it stops at Sun,

look for the road marked Lock No.3. Go east slowly because it is also the road to the Sun Police Department. They took over the Lock Master's house. More on them later. On the way to the lock and the Pearl look from side to side as you will be going slow enough to do that. Right? This scene is seen several times along the way.

Then you get to the lock grounds and immediately you'll want to rush down for a good shot. Pardon the litter everywhere. More on that later. The lock is what qualifies this ride for the History Hunt Blog. It is no longer used. I need to do some research on why it is here and why it is no longer functioning. There are 3 locks on this canal that bypass the meandering Pearl and I guess they could have made Bogalusa a booming port, which they didn't. The gates stay closed or the river would drain and someone would be in trouble.

I walked to the landing where some guy was having a tantrum with a cell phone. He jumped in his truck and flung gravel leaving. My timing was great, I could have been where he was headed. Maybe his wife found his watch when she was looking for hers. I hope she didn't find mine. Next, I went down the trail that follows the river north.

Here's a shot back into the back swamp opposite the river. No skitters yet! I was going to show you more but Rio is waiting.

Here's the finishing beauty shots.

Now, what was I going to say about litter and the police? Sorry you missed the rant but that's what it was and basically worthless. All it netted was some woman sending a note saying simply, all in capital letters, "WE LOVE LOUISIANA". I really don't know what her implication was, but I do too, even when some of her cousins disgrace us. Maybe it was when I said I'd bout had it with LA. I suppose I should have targeted the culprits instead of making a such a strong, broad brushed statement. But, bubbas, people from out of state don't research the culprits, they blame us all for the filth they see everywhere. And, Walter, when you throw a 6 pack's carton in the bed of your pickup, it flies out onto the road. Course you know that, didn't you.

End CTC

This was a momentous outing featuring a hidden place with a likewise hidden access path.

There were lessons learned concerning chase technique. There will have to be adjustments.

Those are just a few of the reasons why I'm writing it up and not

simply sending it as an email to my few adoring audiencia.

First picture .. one two, no this is not going to crash into Jumping Jack Flash.

You'd have to have seen the Stones' movie "Shine" to understand what I just wrote.

I speak to just a few at times to be purposely exclusionary.

I learned that when I joined several groups.

Alright, in the vernacular of the railroading world, "Here we go".

Arriving in Lafayette, two L&D tugs were exiting the old Alexandria Branch rails.

You don't see this very often because only Baker Brick is serviced from those rails.

They once went all the way to Cheneyville, La. on US 71.

This was a big deal to me so I've devoted a few shots to the process.

She moved toward the Lafayette yard, then came

south toward New Iberia.

At the west switch of the Lafayette Yard, a sleeping Norfolk Southern giant sat.

I had noticed pipe from New Iberia on board many of its cars.
I have learned not to waste time, become a target or sweat waiting on an engine to light up.
I have a radio and I can hear when they are ready to move. I had business to attend to
west of Lafayette, down US 90.

Next, I was in Crowley, here commemorated, yet again, by the depot's picture.

This was the location of the S&P/Louisiana Western depot.

A mini tug was moving cars about at Louisiana Rice Mill.

I visited with my old buddy, "Mz AKDN Tiger".

I guess she still has a job. I didn't ask.

There were cars in the old Missouri Pacific yard, so I suppose all is about the same.

I tried walking one of the tracks that led to the

main line through the hobo jungle, but it was too much of a mess to follow.

There was a pronounced incline to the mainline.

At Midland, a tool car sat. I think it takes part in the installation process.

A Herzog Rail Testing vehicle sat at Midland.

You can knock yourself learning about Herzog by checking these links.

I rode west of Midland on the Old Spanish Trail which is gravel and secluded from US 90 by

the elevated railroad track. I have a favorite place for train watching next to a rice field canal.

With a little lightening, this will be a good one.

A crawfish pond is on the other side of the road.

Between Crowley and Jennings, US 90 has to

loop south because of Bayou Plaquemine Brule

and the Mermentau Basin.

The railroad does likewise.

This is the bend back north headed into Jennings.

This is looking east toward the Mermentau Bridge.

I stopped at the Jennings Depot (rip)

I'd be back later and make a poor decision.

West of Jennings, one of the major bridges was not open.

A huge detour would be needed for the common traveler.

I took another route. No, not by boat.

There is a very good gravel road that parallels I-10.

This is Bayou Grand Marais.

The dysfunctional bridge on US 90 is over this large waterway.

I came to Farm Supply Road, also gravel, and crossed over 1-10 headed back to US 90.

The rails lay ahead.

It had taken 10 miles to go 4. Those not opting for I-10, like me, would have

much farther to travel.

You have to go to Welch. It is one very nice little town. I can't say enough about it.

This was my newest find. It's a lift pump (for rice?) store that has been in business

since 1895.

And, it's rail nut friendly.

At Lacassine, the location of the boondoggle sugar refinery, was this fine specimen of a train

sitting in the company yard.

The incline to the main line is where the derailment took place, you know,

the one I reported a while back.

The place is large.

This looks like one of the Lafayette BNSF Yard tugs.

OK, let me confess.

This was my ultimate target.

I have scoured Iowa, La. for a place to catch the Sunset Limited Passenger Train crossing
Iowa Junction's historic cross tracks.

Hearing "Iowa Junction" on Train Radio spawned a couple of intense History Hunts which
you can find on that blog.

I have never been able to get close to this historic place. I still wasn't close, but closer.
Getting to my viewing point involve seeing a road that wasn't there to the untrained eye. (pun)

I saw a sign saying, "No Dumping" and thought, "There must be a road if a sign is there".

Indeed there was a small limestone road that went to the tracks. The place was protected from the threatening weather and would be from the sun on a hot day. I suppose you could barbecue there if you wanted. Heck it even had an outhouse though which was for ladies and

which was for men is not clear. Knock first. Both stalls were in use when I was there and the occupants were both quiet. I could hear a fan going so there mush have been some required

exhausting to take care of. I had to settle on the usual, a tree.

The original cross track was down there. You can see the abandoned railroad's bed.

To the left is north. The rails go to Alexandria following US 65.

To the right, south, is the abandoned railroad which went to south Lake Charles.

Reading the history of the railroaders and Lake Charles was captivating. So is my effort.
In fact, you may feel like you are in jail.

I wanted to see my favorite passenger train cross the ghost X tracks.

I wonder what that is down where the old X track was? Surely it is gone.

There sure is something across the rails.

Below, you can see "whatever" at the old crossing. Oh, it's a rail crossing, mystery solved.

The old bed is now a road, to some degree.

US 65 is to the left.

Left (west) is to Los Angeles.

Right (east) is to New Orleans.

North is to Alexandria, La.

South went to south Lake Charles.

This means something to someone somewhere.

Mark has identified TWC !! CLICK HERE

Now you can get an idea of how far away I was.

Yes, I was setting up for another "Trains Under Bridges" addition, also.

Time for a little anticipation.

I eyed that signal. It would make a great train stand.

The conversation between the UP dispatcher and the Amtrak conductor got very clear.

Sweet 16 was flying by.

End of CTC

I gathered myself and got onto the Interstate. I did 70 but the traffic in Jennings,

between the highway and the depot, was too slow. I waited at the depot,

but she was long gone, but maybe not that long gone if I hadn't waited.
Hesitation does not work in train chasing. Lesson Learned.
Whether this replaces, "Be Patient", I don't know.
Both may rely on "good judgement" which is a wandering variable.