and associated stories.The trip there was taken exclusively on IH-10. The stretch between San Antonio and Houston I'm very familiar with, including the new state-of-the-art rest area near Columbus that you see on the right here. There are two of these spiffy parks now in this stretch of highway and they make it so easy and pleasant to
break up the drive and take care of biological necessities. One even has wifi so you can tweet your progress!After picking up Steve at home and Joan at the Houston airport, we headed on east. IH-10 gives you a blow-by-blow commentary on just how big Texas is with its mile markers. Take a look at the number of this exit sign (on the left) near the Louisiana border with the cookie-sounding towns: it's that far from El Paso. I'm always reminded of a postcard I saw once many years ago that featured this immortal poetry:
"The sun has riz, the sun has set.
And here we iz, in Texas yet."
And here we iz, in Texas yet."
Even with today's higher speed limits, you know this still could happen.
At any rate, as the sun got lower behind us, we were in Louisiana, fortunately crossing the big bridge at Baton Rouge before it got too dark.
For the trip home, we decided to take a road less traveled, and found our way down to state highway 44, a route that hugs the Mississippi (mostly unseen due to the high levees) and passes some lovely plantations. It takes you through some not-so-lovely scenery, too, though still interesting, like this stretch near Garyville. We thought of some half-remembered unpleasant statistics about public health issues between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. It's not hard to believe when you drive past and under structures like this:
However, the route along the river (we crossed the bridge you see above over to state highway 18 on the other side) features other kinds of scenery, too, like sugar cane fields, picturesque cemeteries, and the afore-mentioned plantations. This one, Oak Alley, was the most impressive. I wish we'd had time to take a tour. Maybe on the next trip this way. At any rate, it set the Gone with the Wind music playing in my head—not hard to understand, is it?
As I mentioned, we didn't really get to see as much of the river as I'd hoped. I'd sort of forgotten about the levees, and I certainly didn't expect them to be as high as they were. On the left here is what the river looks like from the top of one, as we we lucky to catch this impressive set of 
barges when we climbed the levee opposite Oak Alley. A busy river, even on a Sunday morning.
We got to see it, of course, when we crossed those bridges—several along the "Plantation Parade" as well as the big one at Baton Rouge. (By the way, this link will give you more information about all the plantations we saw, plus a few more, and provides a nice map, should you want to take this tour sometime.)
But that's not the only impressive river you see between Houston and New Orleans. Here's a typical shot off the causeway that crosses the Atchafalaya Basin, where the Mississippi really wants to go.
The very informative Tulane Univ. page I linked to above regarding the levee system also has a good explanation of why the Mississippi's still where it is instead of here. If you want to learn more, I heartily recommend John McPhee's book, which is listed on this page's bibliography. That's where I first learned about this fascinating phenomenon. David Brin's novel Earth (which is becoming more and more prescient) deals with the issue in dramatic fashion as well.
Joan got home to Colorado not long after I got home to San Antonio—doubtless a more efficient mode of transport, time-wise. But you do miss the details on the ground.
At any rate, as the sun got lower behind us, we were in Louisiana, fortunately crossing the big bridge at Baton Rouge before it got too dark.
For the trip home, we decided to take a road less traveled, and found our way down to state highway 44, a route that hugs the Mississippi (mostly unseen due to the high levees) and passes some lovely plantations. It takes you through some not-so-lovely scenery, too, though still interesting, like this stretch near Garyville. We thought of some half-remembered unpleasant statistics about public health issues between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. It's not hard to believe when you drive past and under structures like this:
However, the route along the river (we crossed the bridge you see above over to state highway 18 on the other side) features other kinds of scenery, too, like sugar cane fields, picturesque cemeteries, and the afore-mentioned plantations. This one, Oak Alley, was the most impressive. I wish we'd had time to take a tour. Maybe on the next trip this way. At any rate, it set the Gone with the Wind music playing in my head—not hard to understand, is it?
As I mentioned, we didn't really get to see as much of the river as I'd hoped. I'd sort of forgotten about the levees, and I certainly didn't expect them to be as high as they were. On the left here is what the river looks like from the top of one, as we we lucky to catch this impressive set of 
barges when we climbed the levee opposite Oak Alley. A busy river, even on a Sunday morning.We got to see it, of course, when we crossed those bridges—several along the "Plantation Parade" as well as the big one at Baton Rouge. (By the way, this link will give you more information about all the plantations we saw, plus a few more, and provides a nice map, should you want to take this tour sometime.)
But that's not the only impressive river you see between Houston and New Orleans. Here's a typical shot off the causeway that crosses the Atchafalaya Basin, where the Mississippi really wants to go.
The very informative Tulane Univ. page I linked to above regarding the levee system also has a good explanation of why the Mississippi's still where it is instead of here. If you want to learn more, I heartily recommend John McPhee's book, which is listed on this page's bibliography. That's where I first learned about this fascinating phenomenon. David Brin's novel Earth (which is becoming more and more prescient) deals with the issue in dramatic fashion as well.Joan got home to Colorado not long after I got home to San Antonio—doubtless a more efficient mode of transport, time-wise. But you do miss the details on the ground.
2 comments:
Wouldn't walking on foot be the old-fashioned mode of travel? :-)
Well, I was referring to more old-fashioned than flying. But you're right, Diane, and I'm expecting to hear from the bike-riders, too, who think you don't really see the countryside unless you bike it.
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