Friday, October 17, 2008

Day 23: Covington to Beaumont TX

Still functioning on Eastern Time, we got an early start and headed toward Baton Rouge (pop. 222,000; elev. 60 feet). Seven flags have flown over Baton Rouge: France, England, Spain, West Florida, the Sovereign State of Louisiana, the Confederate States, and the United States.

The city was originally named by a French explorer in 1699. the name means "red stick" and referred to a tall cypress tree stripped of its bark and draped with freshly killed animals that marked the bounds between hunting grounds of two Indian tribes. I think I would have changed that name somewhere along the line -- Red Stick Draped With Dead Animals -- I guess six of the seven flags did not understand French.

At Baton Rouge, we encountered the Mississippi River again and another high arching bridge. I'm sure that Baton Rouge has its good points, but the view from the bridge is not one of them. The northern part of the city is dominated by a large oil refinery which is integrated into the city skyline. And we picked up a definite scent ( ode de Camas). On the other side of the water, we saw a mountain of junked autos in a mega junk yard.

We proceeded on to Lafayette (pop. 110,000; elev. 40 feet). When the British expelled the French Acadians from Nova Scotia in the 1700's, they settled in Lafayette. Their descendants are called Cajuns. Later, when oil was discovered off shore, the oil companies settled in Lafayette. Cajuns and oil refineries...

Outside Lafayette we found ourselves on a long (40+ miles) elevated stretch of the Interstate designated as a scenic highway. This is swamp land. It looks flooded, but the water comes and goes and changes course often. I think they call this a bayou.

Louisiana doesn't have "counties"; they have "Parishes." They don't have "city limits"; they have "corp limits." And they do NOT have "rest stops" at all on the Interstate. We finally figured out that the keyword is "tourist information" and you have to exit the freeway to get there.

Our first attempt to take a "tourist information" break was unsuccessful. The facilities were under construction -- not indicated in any way until you got to the blocked driveway. Our second attempt was successful -- well sort of. After making a wrong turn due to confusing signs, we found ourselves in a small park with a "no swimming" pond and playground equipment. There was a very old, run-down "tourist information" shed, and we finally found two restrooms. One said "men," the other said nothing. Jim described the "men's" as "two urinals and a toilet - no stalls." My unmarked one had stalls, but ... Anyway, we are giving Louisiana the prize for worst rest areas (or whatever they want to call them).

Finally, none too soon, we crossed the border into Texas and a full-blown rest stop/tourist info center. It had a nature deck trail through part of the Blue Elbow Swamp and the coldest restrooms on earth -- when air conditioners attack.

Getting tired of refineries, we decided to take a detour along the coast to Port Arthur. We were told that there was some hurricane damage in the area. That was an understatement we discovered.

As we headed toward Bridge City, we started to see piles of furniture and bits and pieces of houses piled up on the curb. We passed by some severely damaged buildings, ended up on a detour, found that the state park was closed, and finally made it to the historic district of Port Arthur. We were greeted by a "No Trespassing" sign. We did find an interesting church, the Vietnamese Martyr's Catholic Church, built in gratitude for the escape from Asia to Port Arthur.

When we got to Beaumont, we found a Best Western and were lucky to get one of the last rooms. Hotels here are not taking reservations or giving discounts because they are full with folks in town to repair the hurricane damage. We got the "handicapped" room. It has all types of equipment in the bathroom, but we don't mind and it is on the first floor.

We went for a walk and discovered a canal near the hotel where we could take a free nature tour. As I walked by, three turtles who were sunning themselves on the concrete scampered into the water. Jim and I spent an hour or so watching the turtles bob their heads out of the water, a number of large, pike-like fish emerge from the mucky bottom and return, and a baby egret wade in the canal.

We are only about 2 hours from my brother's house in Houston. We will be there for the weekend. Back on the trail Monday. See you then.

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