Day 5 - New Orleans, LA to Spring, TX

Day 5 - September 30, 2008
414 miles



(Click to enlarge)





Hit the road about 8:00 a.m. The only goals for today were try the gumbo at Robin's in Henderson, La, get back safely, and get back by 6:00 p.m. because Bobby J had to return his rental Harley.

I love it when a plan succeeds.




The ol' Mississippi from the I-310 bridge near Luling, La.










Knowing how we eschew interstate whenever possible we routed north from Luling after crossing the river through Donaldsonville, White Castle, and Plaquemine on the west bank of the Mississippi. Good road, lightly traveled. As in most of the state, there was still considerable hurricane damage with crews cutting downed trees and limbs everywhere.


Joined I-10 on the west bank of the big bridge crossing the Mississippi at Baton Rouge. I love the Atchafalaya swamp/river/area.




Pilot channel through the Atchafalaya swamp.











I've never calculated the lengh of the series of bridges over this area, but it's considerable. I don't even want to think how many cottonmouths were encountered building these things.



Lake Bigeux














Prior to leaving on this trip I'd written a request for information on things to see and do, and, especially, where to eat in the area. Many were suggested, and several followed through on. But the absolute best was Robin's in Henderson, La. A fellow by the name of Tom White wrote me an email stating they have the best gumbo in the state. I'm inclined to agree after sampling. Bobby J reported the crawfish etouffee was wonderful as well.
Absolutely worth the trip. Take the Henderson exit off I-10, turn south and take the first left onto Henderson Hwy, Hwy352. Robin's is 2-3 miles down on the left. You can't miss it. And shouldn't.


















Left Henderson and took I-10 to Beaumont. Took Hwy105 out of Beaumont to get off the slab. This is a nice little ride I've taken many times through Sour Lake (the site of the first Texaco strike), to Cleveland, taking US59 south to US242 to the Woodlands. Bobby J exited south down I-45 to return the bike while I kept on trucking home to get my car to pick him up.

Okay. Let's have a review of the Louisiana helmet law. I am now convinced that deep down in the actual wording of the law is a sentence which states something along the line of, "This statute shall not be interpreted as covering any but a single individual who wears a helmet practically 100% of the time, and is visiting the state accompanied by a biker called Blonde Dog (Bobby J's "Harley Name"...I know absolutely nothing about his secret handshake and decoder ring), riding a "riceburner" with loud pipes."

It's true! Has to be. Having revisited the events of Day 1 regarding the missing helmet(s), the one yelled at by all the cops in that series of events was me. Never, not once, did any yell at Bob. I have to now report that this phenomenon continued for the entire trip. After retrieving my helmet from the hotel the first day, I wore it, as usual, for the rest of the trip. Bob, on the other hand, continued to wear the dinky little leather cap with Harley Davidson in letters bigger than the brim. We were passed by dozens of police officers. Several pulled up behind and beside us as we rode. In one case, an officer was parked in his cruiser on the side of the road at a red light. I went through the light, but Bob was caught by it and had to stop, adjacent to the damned cop car. NOTHING!! Nothing!

You may think that I was wanting Bob to get caught, but that isn't the case at all. I wish he'd wear a helmet, but I'm certainly not going to wish fines and law problems on him. As the time went on, like a sports fan whose team is undefeated as the season goes on, I kept rooting for Bob to make it through without being stopped. When we crossed the Texas line over the Sabine river I raised my arm high with the clenched fist of victory. Bobby DID IT!!

But still, why me?

Only semi-bad thing to happen is Betsy the Kaw's exhaust manifold started leaking. I think it's the after-market Vance & Hines pipes I put on her. I had a problem with them in North Caroline last year and had to have a bead welded where the pipe turns out of the back cylinder. This sounds like the front cylinder. I'll have to check it out this weekend. Who knows, perhaps this is fate telling me I need to look at the new 2009 Kawasaki Voyager.

Mine would probably be black.












In any event, great ride, great weather, great folks, great food, great music, and semi-blind cops. Can one ask for more? We loved the New Iberia and southwestern Louisiana areas. Any people who can invent seafood gumbo, biegnets, and Tabasco sauce just have to be special. And they are.