Mud wrestling

October 8th/09 - New Orleans, LA
Royal Hotel, French Quarter
Mileage: 79.3 km
Total mileage: 4,976 km

Started out east bound on Hwy 90. Busy with traffic, but no choice in the matter, closing in on New Orleans.

Looking at the scenery I narrowly missed an alligator on the shoulder of the road. Deby, behind me, didn't notice him until the last second either. Just a bit startling. Lucky enough he was dead having been hit earlier by a vehicle. Have to look further down the road in the future. I guess the suckers really do come out of the ditch once in a while. It made us angry with ourselves for not having seen him earlier. So angry in fact that later, in New Orleans we ate alligator to prove our dominance over the beasts. Tastes sort of like pork, except you have to spit the teeth out.

We continued on. Traffic increased and so did the communities. Typical of nearing a large centre.

At one point during the day, I slammed on my brakes hoping to slow enough for a large ridge of broken pavement in front of me. Deby, riding right behind me swerved hard right to avoid collision. She managed well and instead of hitting me chose a large mud hole at the side of the road. What a trooper. The old girl went down hard. Witnessing the horrendous impact out of the corner of my eye, I worried for the bike. However, we adjusted the gear and everything was OK. Deby on the other hand, looked like a mud wrestler and kind of turned me on. She recovered and kept her distance for the rest of the day. I'm glad she drinks her milk.

Peddling through New Orleans was quite a treat. Motorists here honestly have no idea of what a cyclist is. Neither of us at any point on this trip have had cars pass us in such close proximity. Finally we decided to ride further out in the lane so the oblivious 4 wheelers had no choice by to go around us. They didn't like it, but we were safer and it worked.

We caught the Gretna Ferry and crossed the Mississippi. Beautiful river tour of the city. On board we met with two commuter cyclists and they were gracious enough to take us to a nice hotel in the historic French Quarter. We rode through the city together and said our farewells at the Royal Hotel. Thanks Ken and Dina.

The Royal Hotel doesn't mean expensive, it means old. Probably approaching 200 years old. Fascinating place. I am writing this blog from a sheltered area in the small court yard as the rain is pounding down. We don't know much of it's history, but it was first built as a residence, and then at one point became a washateria before becoming a hotel.

I have to make a point of reading up on New Orleans history. As Canadians we should feel more comfortable here than we know because the Cajuns who got the boot from Canada were a big part in its early development.

We spent the evening walking Bourbon Street and the French Quarter. Too many Hurricanes. Deby got more beads than any of the other girls. (That's the too many Hurricanes talking since Deby only got beads in his dreams).