Pleasant Surprises

I recently had my first adventure of 2019. It spanned 3 days and about 1000 miles of mostly north-central Louisiana back roads. As has come to be expected, my Yamaha FJR ran flawlessly, although I did have one minor non-motorcycle equipment problem which I will get into later. I rode by myself and I rode with others. The weather was great; especially considering it was early January. Although our 6 month summers here in the Deep South are absolutely brutal, our mild winters are certainly great for motorcycle riding. Any of your snow birds looking for a break from “PMS” (Parked Motorcycle Syndrome) might consider a trip down to my neck of the woods – I’d be happy to have ya!

I saw some familiar stuff, and also discovered some new stuff in my extended backyard. This to me is the essence of the motorcycle adventure. You leave the house with no pre-disposed expectations, and therefore by definition, you are never disappointed. That concept is not meant to a defeatist attitude. Rather, you make a conscious decision to free your mind from the constraints of any plan. You remind yourself that it doesn’t matter, and you believe it. You tell yourself that you will allow your mind to wander with your motorcycle, and your will keep your eyes open. Not just for situational awareness purposes or as a safe riding technique. These are very important, but not exclusive to your objective. Beyond that, you keep your eyes open for anything that might pique your interest. An unusual road sign. A run down abandoned building that speaks to you. A hill or valley that grabs the light just the right way. An opportunity to learn something about the history, the culture, and the people who live where you are. A road that curves and dips into your imagination. Some unusual tree or Bayou that is begging you to stop and meditate over it.

Do this with fervor and commitment and you will experience precisely why the motorcycle was invented. I hope you enjoy the pics.

Day 1: Lafayette, LA – Keithville, LA, approximately 360 miles.

A weather front passed through home yesterday and overnight, the temperatures dropped 25 degrees and the skies cleared. I left the house at first light at about 43 degrees. I reluctantly got on the Interstate heading north, just wanting to put some distance between myself and home. About 15 miles north of Lafayette, I hit a low ceiling of total cloud cover, and it felt like the temperature dropped 20 degrees. None to worry, I just clicked up twice on my heated jacket liner and all was good. About 25 miles later, things started feeling a bit calmer, so I exited onto Hwy 115 and rode into Marksville, which is the Avoyelles Parish seat.

Recently, I’ve developing an interest in courthouse architecture. This one doesn’t do much for me.



On the other hand, I find many of the old restored buildings in the town square beautiful. This one is still used as a bank today. Check out that copper clock on the façade, keeping accurate time as far as I can tell.





I thought the old movie theatre looked cool, although I’m not sure what it is used for now.



Always go to the brown signs. There’s usually something interesting on them.





I saddle back up and check the map. I’ve got no plan, and no intention of forming one now. Things to my north look interesting, so away I go.



This is one of several trucks I would see today with a different kind of grocery stashed in the bed. I talked to a deer hunter at a gas stop and he told me that all of the rain we have gotten has reduced the size of the habitat for the deer herd, which in turn has made hunting them a bit easier. I say good for them. Each successful hunt is one less forest rat that can jump out in front of my motorcycle.



I continue generally northeast just winging it and enjoying the state highways. When I get to a road intersection, I pull over and check the map. Or sometimes I just look at the choices and say to myself “Inny, Minny, Miny, Mo!!”. I think this time it ended up being “Minny”. Or maybe it was “Inny”. I forget.



I turn west on Hwy 126 and start heading into the pine forest. In the town of Grayson, I saw something that caught my eye. We don’t normally have these critters on our farms.



She was cute and came right to the fence to greet me. I wished that I had a granola bar or something to give her.



Just out of Grayson, my heated jacket liner stopped working. Uh…. Louisiana, we have a problem. Now 42 degrees and damp, I was starting to get chilled. I pulled into the village of Sikes, Louisiana and stopped under the patio of this dual use building.



There was a lady about my age smoking a cigarette in front.

(Lady) “Are you here for the post office or the store?”

(Pants) “That depends”

(Lady) “On what?”

(Pants) “On which one has the restroom.”

(Lady) “They both do. It’s the outhouse in back of the building.

(Pants) “Oh…. Thanks.”

At least the outhouse had plumbing and was clean, if not freezing cold. It’s close enough to lunch time, so I went into the store to poke around. It’s like I stepped back in time 50 years.





I grabbed a chicken sandwich, a chicken tender, and a bottled water and sat down to warm up and chat with my new friend.



(Pants) “How many people live in Sikes?”

(Lady) “Well it use to be 205, but now it’s 206 ‘cause my cousin just had a baby last month.”

I had a good time talking with her, even though her culinary skills leave plenty to be desired.

At the store, I diagnosed my jacket liner problem. The connector on the liner that goes to the controller crapped out. Oh well, that ain’t getting fixed right now. I’ll figure out something later. So I went back to the outhouse, put on my long undies, mounted up, and took off for points unknown.

Mid afternoon, the sun is starting to peek out from behind the clouds and it was very welcome.



I suppose I better think about where I’m going to sleep tonight. I don’t have my camping gear with me. The whole State is saturated from relentless rains, camping would not be a good idea.

My friend Randy recently moved to this general area. I texted him to see if he was up for some company. In two minutes, I got a reply that I was welcome without imposition, and that his better half, Ms. Moni, would have the gumbo on the stove when I got there. Ok, that’s settled, I can get back to more riding.

Now that I have an actual destination, I start riding in that general direction. I found hwy 486, which is a wonderful ring levee loop road that is freshly paved and a hoot to ride.



It was about 10 miles of this. Yee ha!!



I stopped to answer the call of nature and stretch my legs. This gal was also happy to see me and again, I should have thrown some granola bars in my tank bag.



It’s nice and quiet back here.

I get back on the bike and head toward Randy’s house. I’m looking for the best roads, and while its not north Georgia, it’s plenty good enough and the ride is nice. Just outside of Mansfield, LA, I see a brown sign for a State Historic site and it’s time for a break anyway, so I pull in. The memorial outside of the visitor’s center is very descriptive.




You take one look down the barrel and the destructive capacity of these weapons is amazing, and quite sobering to be honest.



The Battle of Mansfield was fought at the end of the Civil War, after New Orleans and after Vicksburg. The end was just about decided, but Grants’ resolve was insatiable and he marched north within Louisiana toward Shreveport, with hopes of securing the Red River, and thereby strangling the confederacy by cutting off their supply commerce.



However, Gen Mouton with the Confederacy was properly prepared for the Union, and this small Battle was won by the South.



This fireplace mantle was donated to the museum from the White House, as it was placed in the East Room before the renovation of the early 20th century. I think the marble is beautiful.



I checked out some of the artifacts found from the battle. These projectiles are huge and could obviously do some major damage.



There was an impressive display of letters written to families of those that were slain. I read every letter with humble content and respect.



Every time I visit something that relates to the Civil War, I get mixed feelings and emotions. I know as much as the next person about what happened and why. I understand that times were different then. People thought differently and they acted differently. Whenever I think about the fact that my countrymen felt so differently that they would fight each other on our ground, it makes me sad. Hundreds were lost on the ground that I’m standing on now because grown men could not find common ground among themselves. I hope it never comes to that ever again.

Regardless, all history is worth knowing, so I’m grateful to have visited the Battle of Mansfield historic site.



Since Mansfield is a decent sized community, I decided to see if I could find a replacement plug for my heated jacket liner. Of all places, I found a Radio Shack. I thought they all went out of business.



Not much luck, so I pressed north for the 30 minute ride to Randy’s. I got into an argument with my GPS as to the location of his house, but I arrived at this house about 15 minutes before dark, none the less.

My friend greeted me warmly with a favorite spirit of mine.



Ms. Moni is heating up the gumbo for us.



Not bad at all.



The accommodations are pretty swanky too! 5 star YELP rating from Pants!!



After dinner, I made a temporary repair to my heated jacket liner and then we sat down for some conversation and to watch an ELO concert Randy had recorded.




Day 2: Keithville, LA to Ruston, LA, approximately 250 miles

I slept like a rock in Ms. Moni’s guest bed, and woke up refreshed and ready for adventure. Randy’s coffee setup requires higher order thinking skills, but I concentrated and to the victor goes the spoils.



It was nice just sitting at the bay window looking out at the peaceful woods.



Randy has quite the stable in his shop. He calls this Yamaha Raider his “chopper”. It’s got a leaky front brake master cylinder now.



Randy’s also got a VL1000 V-strom he calls the Bumblebee.



And then there’s this little gem of a Ducati that hardly gets ridden. After all, it’s not exactly a long distance bike. Still, I wouldn’t mind a 25 mile test ride on this one.



Finally, Randy and Moni are keeping son Andre’s FZ-09 company while he serves our country in South Korea at this time.



Moni fixed us a nice breakfast. Her biscuits are nice and fluffy.



Randy decided to ride with me a while today, so he pulled out the Bumblebee and off we go.



It’s going to be a great day to ride!



All the bayous and creeks are very high from the rains.



Before we knew it, lunch time had creeped up on us. So we stopped in the town of Coushatta.





I gained 6 pounds over the holidays and so it’s horse food for Pants wherever possible. The Grilled Chicken Salad was good.



Then it was back on the road to points unknown. I took the lead and it was more of the same from yesterday. Check the map, scan the topography, and just go wherever we darn well felt like it.

We went over the river…..



…. and through the woods…



…and to everything in between.

Mid-afternoon, it was time for Randy to break off as he wanted to get home before dark. I shook his hand and thanked him for the company. Good friends are hard to find, and I sure am blessed to have a bunch of them.

I’m running along the top end of the forest and come to a highway intersection with a 4-way stop. I’m ready for a break and since I really don’t know where I’m going, I decided to pull into this old abandoned store. I love to find these places on the road. They always have a story to tell and I find them very interesting.



I walked across the highway and into this field to gaze upon the distance. The paradise is not always 3,000 miles away. Sometimes it’s right in your backyard.



I started thinking about how blessed I am to be there. Don’t misunderstand me – this place certainly wasn’t the most majestic overlook I’d ever seen. I’ve witnessed plenty piles of trash wood lying in a field of brown grass amidst an old farm house. In that light, there is nothing really special about that.

The blessing comes in the form of perspective, and in the proper context. You see, I can’t get to that place at that time without the motorcycle and the resources. And I can’t get there on a donkey if I don’t have the time to do so. And I can’t even get out of the house unless I have my health and I’m physically able. And even though I have all of these things, I still can’t get to this place unless I have the gumption and the will to do it. To take the chance when given the opportunity. To realize and truly accept that the blessing is in the journey, and not the destination. To understand that in order to feel true peace, contentment, and happiness, one has to resolve himself to reach for it, and do so often and with passion.

I moved on to the next town and realized that the sun is started to get lower over the southwest horizon. I best start thinking about where to sleep tonight. I pulled out the phone and realize that I’m not too far from Ruston. There are plenty of hotels there, and the GPS says I’m less than an hour away so I’m in good shape.

Hmmmm – I didn’t notice that sign when I got here. Neat little tidbit of local history.



I point the bike north and in a short while, I see a sign indicating a “historical marker” 1 mile ahead. My curiosity got the best of me.

This is kind of cool.



It looks like a pretty good place to ambush a bunch of gangsters, if I don’t say so myself.



A few miles further north, and I wander into the town of Gibsland, Louisiana. I stopped and poked around this museum. The old lady curator in the museum told me that way back when the museum opened, the locals were set against it because they thought it was glorifying murderers. I told her that I was glad they resisted the opposition. Once again, all history is worth knowing.

This is some fine country up here in north Louisiana.



I got to Ruston craving a local beer, so I stopped at the frontage road liquor store. Finally, somebody has the guts to do what we are all thinking.



I got a room at the Super 8 on Interstate 20. I’ve stayed here before and for $60.00 including tax, you can’t beat it.



The room was spotless and smelled very clean.



No decent beer at the liquor store, so I will have to make do with the shampoo.



This place is only a ½ mile from the hotel and it had great reviews, so after an hour or so, I took a chance.

Good fajita salad. The salsa was kind of bland, though.



Back at the room, after a hot shower, I poured myself a nice tottie and snuggled in to watch the football game.





Day 3: Ruton, LA to Lafayette, LA, approximately 400 miles.

Again I slept well on the hotel mattress. It seems that the older I get, the more important a good night sleep is. I woke up before dawn rested and kind of hungry. So I passed on the free continental breakfast and walked next door for something else.



Dude got a little carried away with the butter, but the warm grits were very tasty and the coffee was also good.



Last night, my buddies Tom and Mike texted to inform me that they were riding, and we agreed to meet for lunch in Natchez. I packed the bike fairly early, as the morning fog was still thick in spots.



I found another old building with character and an unusually large rocking chair.



These repurposed old tractor seats are the predecessors to the “day long” saddle.



Again, I’m just looking for the curviest roads on the map and going wherever the wind blows. The early morning low light here is just too good to pass up.





This one looks pretty good.



I ended up riding around Caney Lake, which is a trophy bass reservoir that held our State record largemouth bass.



I found some locals catching crawfish in this flooded backwater area. I talked to them a while about nothing much.



Late morning, I’m watching the clock and being mindful of my lunch plans, so I hop on Hwy 84 and start burning it toward the mighty Mississippi River.



The soybean farmers plant rye grass for the winter as an erosion control measure. I enjoyed looking at the lush green fields as I steamed east.



I got to Natchez just a few minutes late.



The others left me some parking space.



This place is called The Camp, and it’s my favorite place to eat in Natchez. I couldn’t resist ordering my favorite local brew on draught, Altered State by the Natchez Brewing Company.



Now, you just can’t get a bad meal here. Today, I picked the fish tacos and as expected, I was not disappointed.



After lunch, Mike led us through the woods in the general direction of home.





We stopped a couple times to fill the tanks, empty the bladders, or just because. I got home about 5 pm, and as she always does, my wife came to the driveway to greet me before I could remove my helmet. I never get tired of seeing her welcoming smile after a bike trip. We went out to eat and I shared some stories of my adventure with her.

It’s nice to go places, especially new places that are in far and away lands. It’s nice to see new sites and experience things that you are not familiar with. But don’t discount the idea of exploring your own backyard more.

You might be pleasantly surprised.

Stay thirsty, my friends….

Thank you!

Another really nicely written trip report with good pictures..Thanks for posting it!

Great trip, thanks for the great report.

Two Thumbs Up!

I've been there! Best Sprite in town.

Good stuff indeed Mr. Pants

Great ride report...but 1 glaring error...a STAR "Yamaha" Raider looks like this :

..other than that...good sutff!

Thanks for the ride-along 'pants...enjoyed it!

~G

escapefjrtist said:

Thanks for the ride-along 'pants...enjoyed it!
~G

Click to expand...

+1

Niehart said:

escapefjrtist said:

Thanks for the ride-along 'pants...enjoyed it!
~G

Click to expand...

+1

Click to expand...

++Another.

When you retire you should take up writing!

Pants, there’s nothing healthy about that chicken salad....

Very nice!Thanks for sharing!

Thanks i needed that. This PMS is killing me!

Having sampled a bit of this country, albeit on four wheels, you do make it inviting to go back. I don't know jack about Cajun country but, for some reason, it has a call for me. Thanks for boosting that call.

Temple University (Phila.) founder Russell Conwell wrote a famous lecture, "Acres of Diamonds". The main theme is there are "acres of diamonds" to be found, if looked for, in one's own backyard. I'd say you're doing right well on that score.

Finally, although not from the Civil War era but earlier, and more towards the east coast, I recommend to you Eric Sloane's Americana accounts as an echo to your writing.

And, yes, I am thirsty to see more...

Waffle House! Geesh, it's been years since I ate at a WH in Georgia!

Thanks for sharing "pants". It was an excellent read and good pics. That should inspire more of us to get out more this time of year.

Jay - I thought that Randy told me his "chopper" was a Raider, but I have a friend that used to have one, and your right, two different bikes. I do think it's a Star, though. I'm just not very well versed on the cruiser bikes.

RBE - you are welcome in my homeland any time. If you would do me the honor of letting me know you are coming, it would be my pleasure to show you around, with or without 2-wheels.