Day 41 – Godzilla?

Sunday, November 30th

Mamou, LA to Kirbyville, TX

Thanks to the state of the Mona Lisa Motel (formerly the Bamboo Motel of Mamou) I got almost no rest last night.  Our ceiling fan creaked, our space heater turned off and on with the clank of a wrench to sheet metal, the stray cats screamed outside, the neighbors drummed next door, and a mouse lived in the box springs of the bed.  That’s right.  A mouse.  It woke me around 3 am, scuttling around and squeaking over the discovery of our Fig Newtons.  It ate through the corner of the package and nibbled corner of one of the Newtons before I scared it off with my cell phone light.  I didn’t get back to sleep.  Between the mouse running his evening errands, the heater kicking on and off and the cats outside, every chance I had at slipping into sleep was interrupted.

When the morning alarms finally went off I woke Dad.  He wasn’t surprised about the mouse. I packed quickly then tried to rest again, and while I rested silently he heard the scuttling himself and figured out it was living in the box springs.  I have nothing against mice, except when they interrupt my sleep or eat my precious Newtons.  This motel is a nightmare.  I don’t mind getting what I pay for, but we overpaid for this unfinished room.

With everything packed away and my bike out the door, I walked to the office to return the key and to tell them something about showing pride through their work before they show it through their price, but the owners, of course, were not awake.  Finding the office locked, I turned to return to the room and a huge dog, collared but not tied up advanced on me, barking.  The black dog looked like a Retriever but was the size of a Great Dane and I had to yell “No!” more than once before I could turn my back on him.

I got back to the room and Dad showed me his back tire had a slow leak.  He patched it with a large patch – the only patches we have left – but about a mile down the road, the patch failed and he had to stop and take everything apart again.  Once we finally got underway, we faced very cold, very strong headwinds – around 20 mph in the morning – and wretched Louisiana roads.  We also faced an attempted attack from a three-legged dog who tore out from behind a house and across a yard toward us.  I was too mesmerized by his speed to do anything, but Dad scared him off after clocking him at over 20 mph.

Just as despair was setting in for the first time today, we began passing piles of equestrian poo scattered about.  It looked like a construction crew up ahead on the road, and I could almost believe Louisiana roads were in the horrible condition they are because they run the pavers by horse, but it turned out to be a caravan of cajun gypsies blaring Credence Clearwater Revival in covered wagons pulled by donkeys.  No joke.  We stopped to take a picture in case you wouldn’t believe me:

Shortly after we stopped for the photo, the road got much better, but around the same time, the headwinds picked up.  Going downhill on a good road, pulling 300 Watts through the motor and cranking as hard as I knew how, I still couldn’t top 12 mph – it was that bad.  We thought about taking video of how the wind was torquing the tall pines amid the hills and whipping the bikes, but we didn’t want to lose the little momentum we had, so you’ll just have to take my word on this one.

We stopped in Oberlin for coffee and a Reese’s at a gas station, and filled our water bottles with potable water, since the Mona Lisa’s supply was literally colored with who knows what.  Pressing on, we stopped outside of Mittie for lunch.  We split a roast beef sandwich and some mashed potatoes and I had another coffee since I was falling asleep on the bike.  Back on the road, my torso began cramping from the food and continued to do so for the rest of the day.  On the verge of the urge to throw up, I asked Dad to stop at a station in DeRitter to rest for a bit.  We reviewed the map and refueled, then pressed on, still fighting a 25 mph headwind, only now we were getting 30 mph intermittent crosswind gusts that swept the bikes all over the shoulder and the road and even picked Dad’s bike UP OFF the road.

I had a long time to think of an analogy, but this is the best I came up with:  Imagine you’re standing at point A and have to walk a straight line to point B, only there are five huge guys standing in a semicircle in front of you.  As you try to walk toward point B, they can push you as hard as they please in any direction they like, except from behind.  Oh, and you can’t stop them or attack them because they are etheral. Ready?  Ok, go!

This was our whole afternoon.  Gusts from the right sweeping us into traffic one second, then gusts from the left sweeping us off the road the next.  Utterly frustrating, exhausting and more than a little frightening at times.  We joked about what more nature could throw at us besides the bad roads, rough hills, phenomenal headwinds, bloodthirsty supercanines and traffic.  Short of hurricanes, tornadoes or earthquakes, I think Godzilla is the only thing we need to look out for.  There’s the issue of alien attacks, but my uncle sent us a suggestion to counter abductions, so we’re set for that contingency.

I bonked just outside of Merryville.  Thankfully, 190 was actually in great condition in this one area (the only section of 190 we’ve found rideable), so even with my brain dead and my muscles asleep, the motor carried me into town without too much trouble.  When we stopped at a gas station, Dad helped me recover enough to want to get back on the road.  Minutes later, we made it to Texas.  We crossed the Sabine and our world changed with the improved roads.  We still had the headwind, but it’s so much easier to keep your chin up when every bone in your body, every joint hard at work isn’t being jarred second after second after second.

And the scenery was even better!  The forests around Bon Wier are almost majestic -  better than anything we’ve seen in days.  It sounds like a small detail, but everything adds up.  And it took all these little uplifting details to raise my mood high enough for me to believe I could make it another 18 miles to Kirbyville.

True to the name, the scenery got bleaker around Bleakwood, then about five miles out of Kirbyville a guy in a red truck came up behind us.  I was trailing Dad, so he passed me first as a car in the oncoming lane was passing.  Dad said I had about 6 inches clearance from the side of the truck.  Keep in mind, we’re still fighting winds and this is on a 2-lane road with no shoulder.  When he moved past and began to crowd out Dad there was no traffic in the oncoming lane.  As a response, Dad thumped the back of his hand on the side of the truck (his arm was bent when he did this – that’s how close the guy was) and ran off the road.  The truck pulled over and as we moved to pass him, he climbed out of the cab.  Dad recovered, I caught up to him and while we rode by the truck, Dad asked, “What’s wrong with you?” and I said, “Give us more room, man.”  In our mirrors, we watched him reach into the bed of his truck before the traffic cut off our view.  We don’t know what he was reaching for, but luckily, a little red car stayed behind us for the next mile or so.  He had plenty of opportunity to pass, but we both think he saw something and was blocking us from the truck guy, letting traffic build up so there were plenty of witnesses should anything happen.

We stayed at the Gateway Inn for $55 plus tax.  It had all the amenities:  wireless internet; cable TV; a microwave and minifridge; clear, hot, running water; insulation; and we didn’t have to share the room with anyone or anything.

Today’s Quick Stats:

Bike              Distance (mi)    Average Speed (mph)     Trip Odometer

MiniWini            105.02                    16.5                          2765.6

Sti(ck/g)           104.38                    16.4                          2755.5

Stampedes: 2 and a little bit over

Roadside Pees: 2