A Louisiana Hayride

In January of 2009, I made my first real excursion into the Pelican State, Louisiana. While I flirted with the Sabine River, which borders Texas, I never dove too much into the home of the LSU Tigers. The catalyst for this journey was a lady I was dating in Destrehan, which lies southwest of New Orleans.

Wanting to get there to meet her for lunch was the impetus behind leaving before the crack of dawn. I sure wished there was a dawn because it was moderately raining when I got on the road and hit the main corridor, Interstate 10. As I hit the San Jacinto River and the lanes narrowed down to two, it became an adventure. It almost felt like an automotive Poseidon adventure, as the rain fell hard, my truck waltzed across the wet macadam. The only thing that saved me from following the fate of Shelley Winters was a traffic jam that slowed the trucks down. As daylight became prominent, I hit Beaumont, 88 miles from Houston and the rain turned into a sprinkly mist. This would be the theme for most the drive. After crossing into Louisiana, I was merely thankful to be alive.

As I drove into Lake Charles, all I noticed were casinos and oil refineries. (Hence the nickname for I-10, the Petroleum Belt) After an hour, the traffic became bare and it was time to play Mel McDaniel's "Louisiana Saturday Night." The south Louisiana landscape featured many trees and cotton fields and as I hit Layfayette, the swamps began to take over. As I crosssed the Atchafalaya Swamp Freeway, swamps swirled all around. However, due to the rain and moisture it looked so white I thought it was a bunch of ice. Nonetheless, this 18.2 mile bridge took me to the home of the LSU Tigers, Baton Rouge.It was time for gas, so I got off the interstate and picked up a cola at an Exxon-Mobil. However, I knew it was time to meet her, so I got on the road and headed straight to Luling.

Whenever I enter a new region or town, the only thing my eyes can do is wander. While that displays innate curiosity, it does not help getting to the destination. I missed the exit to I-310 and headed towards downtown New Orleans. So, I got off, turned around, went across the Luling or Hale Boggs Memorial Bridge and made it to the Country Corner off US 90 in Luling.

After a pleasant afternoon of getting to know each other, she had to go to a church rehearsal. As for me, it was time to explore. So, I got back onto I-310 then made it to I-10. It was time to head east. As I drove through New Orleans, thoughts of football as I passed the Superdome and Hurricane Katrina popped into my mind. The traffic was fairly light and then there was Lake Pontchartrain. I was listening to George Strait when a huge sea fog came about the Lake Pontachartrain Causeway. For the next few miles, all I could see was the hood of the truck. After ten torturous minutes, wouldn't you know that the one thing that excited me was a Ford Dealership. It signified two things. One, I was out of the fog and the other, I hit Slidell. At this point I figured lets cross the Pearl River and hit the Mississippi line.

As I crossed over, it was time to go to the welcome center. After picking up a couple of brochures, I contemplated taking US 90 towards Mobile, but instead headed back west until I got to I-59. I thought to myself, lets see more of the Magnolia State. So, I trucked up 59 for about an hour until my eyes told me to head back to Luling and check into the hotel, which I did.

After driving through the fog and rain, I made it safely at 6:45 PM Central Standard Time. After relaxing in the hotel room, I headed next door to a bar to watch some football. I encountered four people, three employees and the owner who was a woman in her mid-50's. She was as nice as can be. I told her where I came from and when the topic of the Hurricane came to pass, she was very teary-eyed as her heart poured out like the gentle rain. Shortly after, she welcomed me to some home made chicken gumbo, a newbie for me. Along with a bottle of Budweiser, this was one of the most authentic meals I had on any of my journeys.

The next day, I took a tour of the Destrehan Plantation. As a native of the North, it sent a lot of things home. By seeing the mansions and slave quarters, I developed an appreciation for life in the Antebellium South and how people of today truly do not understand what went on during the 18th and 19th centuries.

For those who are asking about my lady friend, we had lunch that afternoon before watching the rest of the weekend playoff games. The next day, which was much clearer, I headed back to Houston. My first and brief visit to the Pelican State.