Biddies Gone Biking: Losers on Cruisers, New Orleans, LA

We set off on Wednesday, Feb. 5 for our adventure in New Orleans and eventually, Gulf Shores, AL. The plan, fly to New Orleans, drive from the airport to Dauphin Island where we'd spend the night, rent bikes in the morning and take the ferry to the mainland and ride east toward Gulf Shores.

After the flight to New Orleans, none of that happened. But we decided that in the Uber on the way to the airport when I discovered the thunderstorms I'd hoped would be scattered, were actually going to roll in uninterrupted and drop inches of rain on the island. Not only would I not be able to ride, but there was a likelihood the trail could be flooded. So we canceled the hotel and the bike rental while driving to the airport and walking through security. Yes, I went through security while on the phone with a hotel manager in Alabama. But hey, I guess they let you do anything when you have TSA precheck! (which I don't, btw - big security flaw there: if you have TSA precheck as Steve does, and you book someone else's ticket, they get precheck too).

Steve before take off.

We arrived in the late afternoon and headed to our Air BnB, where Missy had agreed to let us come in a day early. The storms had already begun and the power was out at the house when we landed, but already back on by the time we arrived.

Missy and Brian's house

One lesson of travel: almost all new places feel unfamiliar and, what is the word: uncomfortable? at first. Have you ever arrived on vacation and felt disappointed in your hotel, the beach, the town? When we first drove into the neighborhood, Bywater, where we were staying, we worried it was run down, or perhaps not safe. But it only took a day before it felt friendly and familiar.

We stayed in the front room of a cute little house painted bright yellow. Missy and Brian were chill and seemed fun and interesting. We were sorry not to have a chance to spend more time with them.

After getting settled, we went to Jack Dempsey's for po'boys. We were starving after the flight. We ordered an oyster and a red fish po'boy and split them. Both so delicious we didn't mind eating in the empty dining room (it was 4pm). Then we went back to our room and napped before heading out again in the neighborhood to Bar Redux, where we'd heard they were playing Bob Marley music and film to celebrate the late great reggae artist's birthday.

Bar Redux

Parking garage behind Bar Redux

At the bar, we chatted with Alex - a young, impressionable guy who seemed lonely and worried about his new welding job - and Damian, the 20 year old bar tender and son of the owners. Damian never stopped talking, so we were entertained for the night. His fave drugs? Weed, Whiskey, LSD. In that order. Maybe. I was entertained by Damian, but as the night went on, my mother instincts came out. People were buying him shots, he was smoking weed, and basically getting fucked up while working. Did he do this every night? I started to worry about him.

Us with Damian at the end of the night

In the morning, we headed out to bike (hoping the rain was finished) before hitting the New Orleans museum of art.. We kicked things off at the Bywater Bakery where Steve got an egg sandwich and I ordered a tofu scramble bowl. We sat next to this piano and gazed at the interesting original artwork while listening to loud funky music.

Bywater Bakery

Because Mardi Gras had started (unbeknownst to us), the bakery had king cakes. Oodles of them piled up in boxes. People came in regularly to buy them whole. But we got the important information that you can also buy by the slice. So we would be back...

Steve had to do a little work.

The neighborhood is in a period of transition (read: gentrification). Bywater is apparently a little higher than other neighborhoods because it is near the MS river (I don't know why proximity to the river makes it higher and not lower), so it largely escaped the flooding during Katrina. That realization has raised property values, bringing in upper middle class white families and threatening the ability of the original working class black families to afford to live in their own neighborhood. So now the neighborhood is dotted with freshly painted houses standing out bright like they have a new dress, next to drabber, unrenovated originals wearing yesterday's garb.

This is Bar Redux during the day.

After breakfast, we headed out to rent bikes and do our ride before visiting the art museum, but at the bike rental place, we started having second thoughts. The bit of sunshine that was showing quickly disappeared leaving the day feeling bleak, windy, and cold. Puddles of water covered the trail in places as well, so we decided to put off the ride until the next day. Before heading to the museum, we drove through the park up to Lake Pontchartrain to scout out the next day's ride.

Live oaks lined the streets in the park.

So many oak trees with their haunting old branches reaching out like great low arms in amazing balancing acts. Steve noticed they still had their leaves and we wondered what kind of tree they were. Steve guessed oak and we were a little surprised when he turned out to be right.

The museum of art had this sculpture out front. I think it is a woman's face (profiled in pink) at the top with long pale pink hair. If so, then perhaps the other figures are women's heads with long hair from the back? But Steve thought it looked like three pieces of bacon. And I agree. Bacon with a woman's head sticking out of it.

Woman in wedding dress and red shoes arriving for photos.

Our favorite rooms in the museum contained primitive art: Mayan, New Guinean. The art from this time is undifferentiated from tools and items of use. Shields, bowls, baskets, daggers (made of human bones!). But also, ancestor towers and other carvings of a spiritual nature. I don't usually take pictures in museums, but for whatever reason, I did snap a few here. I didn't note where they were from, so kinda lame.

Ancestor towers. There was an even cooler one that I didn't photograph

This sculpture of a slave ship really moved me. Of course, the picture doesn't do it justice, but the African men lined up below, sitting as if on a bus, being propelled forward against their will, were so appalling in their humanity. Then the sailors, leaning back into the wind, enraptured by their power and greed as they held the lines to the sails as if they were reins. I could hear them screaming into the wind in their maniacal intensity. Then the image of the white man on top of the black man, evoking power, and rape, and cruelty, right under the image of the American flag.

When we finally moved on, we entered a room full of 18th Century furniture, ala Monticello. The slave ship was "sailing" straight towards a room representing the wealth and luxury created by slavery. Well placed.

Steve and I were also really interested in a show for a local photographer, Tina Freeman, called Lamentations.

The show (and book) pair images of Louisiana with images of Antarctica that share similar light and composition to explore the effects of climate change and human industry on the environment. You can see some of her work on her website.

The lobby of the museum had this bulletin board with people's stories of Louisiana, which I thought was an interesting idea after just having looked at Freeman's work.

The walkway leading from the museum - more live oaks - just younger.

Of course, on vacation, you eat, sight see, eat, sight see, so after the museum, time for lunch! Steve found this great little restaurant: Liuzza's.

We split a roasted garlic fried oyster po'boy and an order of their signature barbecue shrimp. Fantabulous.

Oh - and a couple of beers!

Liuzza's famous BBQ shrimp

The entrance to Liuzza's. Like much of New Orleans, the old is mixed with the new, the run down with the dressed up, the artsy with the drab, the lively with the abandoned. And in this case, the broken down door an entry to great food.

Walking around near City Park.

The new and dressed up...

Next to the abandoned...

This was actually a decent looking little house. It was just empty. But many houses looked as if they had not been inhabited since Katrina. I read that 90% of people have returned, but there were still some houses standing empty and decrepit looking with spray paint still on them from after the storm.

After lunch, back to sight seeing. We went to the St. Louis Cemetery #3, which was a cemetery where everyone is buried above ground (because of the water). The below wall is filled with caskets, which are filled with bodies of course. But some are empty.

It turns out that when you get buried here, your plot can eventually be resold if all of your living descendants can be contacted and agree to it. Your body has to be removed first. Their website doesn't say what happens when there are no living descendants, but I will say there were a lot of empty, but old tombs. Where had the bodies gone?

In addition to the tombstones, there were mausoleums (i.e., big buildings full of caskets, piled high like drawers in a huge morgue). We went into one to use the bathroom, and I was overwhelmed by the idea that there were bodies towering all around us - as if we were buried ourselves.

I found the cemetery cold and unwelcoming, with no green anywhere and construction all around. Just as I was speculating about how I couldn't understand why anyone would want to be buried here, we passed a woman grieving at a tomb. I was put in my place, reminded that this was not a museum or just a tourist attraction. It was a place of mourning--I should have been more respectful.

A live oak on a neighborhood street.

There seemed to be a lot of cycling in the city. Bike racks everywhere, bike lanes, bike share depots, people on bikes, and unfortunately, a few ghost bikes.

On the way back to our room, we stopped in at the Bywater Bakery for the promised piece of king cake. Steve got one with mascarpone and fresh fruit. I went for the pralines. He did better, but mine was good too.

Steve got the baby! That means a year of good luck after the "dark days" (of winter) are over in late February.

Bywater Bakery

At home, we napped and read and rested for a few hours. Then it was back out. This time to Vaughns where we hoped to catch some live music.

Like the dorks that we are, we arrived at the bar at 8:30 for the music that didn't start until 11:00. They didn't have any food, so we left and got a snack (rice bowls) at the Bywater Grill down the road. It was a nice restaurant, but my seat was by the door and the traffic was constant. I was freezing from the wind blowing in on me. Then we returned to hear Cory Henry and the Treme Funktet play funky trombone with keyboards, trumpet and an electric guitar. We'd had great seats at the bar earlier, but now we were stuck at a little table...by the door! The whole time I listened the wind blew in on me from the constant traffic of people going outside to smoke weed. There was so much weed smoking on the streets that I thought pot was legal in Louisiana, but no! Anyway, I had to dance to keep warm.

The ceiling at Vaughns

We stayed and listened for an hour (a little too jazzy for Steve) and caught the best song at the end - one where the main thread was played first by the guitar player, whose solo can only be described as soaring. Then, just when Cory picked up the lead, the lights flickered. Then they went on and off a few times for longer periods before going out entirely. Everyone cheered because they thought the darkness was cool, but they didn't realize it meant the night was over. Steve and I took our leave. For old folks, it was time for bed anyway.

The next morning, we grapped breakfast at Who Dat Cafe. I think my food was good, but the only thing I really remember is that I was next to the door AGAIN! This time we asked to move, but the only open table was just a few feet away. Still, it was a bit warmer.

There were several ghost bikes on the road to City Park, so I was curious about this installation. Is this a memorial? How many cyclists are killed in New Orleans? I read about it and it seems locals don't know any more about this pile than me, except to say that the installation appeared one day. It wasn't commissioned, it has no memorial or plaque with an explanation. The point, I suppose, is just to remember. And to drive more carefully.

With this somber reminder, we rented blue cruiser bikes and got ready for the big ride.

Me waiting for Steve, who says he's not poky. I look wierd!

Steve heading off from the parking lot.

First stop: a pit stop.

Some of the trees were absolutely magnificent. Here is a live oak covered with Spanish moss.

We rode about 5 miles along the side of City Park. There was a bike path or a bike lane almost the entire way. For the one section where we rode on the road, it was designated for cyclists too.

Steve made fun of me for taking a picture of ducks in a puddle, but I thought the light was nice.

I noticed a flock of ibis pecking around the path up ahead.

At first I approached without a sound, and they remained about their business.

Then Steve burped like a bullfrog and they took off.

Then we saw a cormorant drying its wings.

And a crane, craning for lunch.

And then we were past the park. As we rode along the road on our way to the lake, I noticed this sign. Robert E. Lee. Ugh.

Up here, Robert E. Lee is celebrated, and suddenly all the houses have lost their color and personality. Everything looked so groomed and bland. We could easily have been in a Virginia suburb if not for the palm trees. Why are wealthy people so afraid to express themselves?

And then Lake Pontchartrain! Honestly, I didn't expect much because I'd watched a Youtube video of someone riding the path. I knew it would be big (and so not too charming) and perhaps industrial. Like the great lakes? But it was nicer than that. No industry that I saw. Only a huge bridge cutting the thing in half and a small skyline in the distance.

There was a seawall made of stone lining most of the lake.

And a separate path for pedestrians!

You can see the Frank Davis Naturally N'Awlins Memorial Bridge that, at nearly six miles, spans the entire lake in the background.

Our two cruisers.

We were cruising along chatting when I heard "passing on your left" in a stern voice. And I realized I was the loser on the cruiser getting in the way of the "real" cyclists!!

Steve cycling off into the distance.

In the Tina Freeman show, Lamentations, one image showed these weird growths coming up out of the ground around a tree, like stalagmites. The caption said no one knows why they grow. Here are some of them around the base of this tree.

And we're done. Twenty miles of riding in Louisiana. Hootyhoo!

Next event: a walking tour of the French Quarter. We photographed the street signs where we parked so we wouldn't lose our car.

No sooner had we arrived than a little jazz combo meandered past.

We both remember eating at Arnaud's when we were last here together, for an ATA convention before we were married. That night, we ate for free as we were taken out by the muckity mucks at the association. A nice treat for us!

We'd thought we'd buy snacks along the way, but it turned out we were hungry. So before we even started our tour, we found ourselves at Cafe Beignet, eating beignets!

I thought we were ordering one each, but it was three for one order. So we were "burdened" with six beignets. What's a tourist to do?!

Eat them, of course.

The courtyard at Cafe Beignet

The walking tour was nice because it gave us some direction as we walked around and it pointed out interesting historical facts about buildings: mainly who was murdered or tortured there, who made riches (pirates) or lost fortunes (Nicolas Cage) there. But one little tidbit was so interesting: this window into the wine cellar of a restaurant called Antoine's. The restaurant is one of the oldest family-run restaurants in the U.S. (according to Wikipedia). Supposedly, there are 25,000 bottles of wine down there!

The image doesn't do it justice, but it's a window into a dark and very long room with wine bottles lining each side from floor to ceiling. And no one knew about it. Everyone was just walking by wondering what the heck I was taking a picture of.

People were lined up to get into Preservation Hall. I got in there once years ago, only to be kicked out because I was too drunk from drinking hurricanes to hold my own head up and listen to the music. Youth. It's wasted on the young.

Preservation Hall

No photo of Bourbon Street can capture the antics going on down there. The music, yelling, stumbling, dancing, and general drunkenness. It is overwhelming for the old and sober person!

But just one block away, it was so much quieter. Kinda crazy.

This art gallery featured flying books hanging from the ceiling. I have a mind to do this in my office!

A pub where pirates used to congregate and make deals to sell their stolen wares.

The sun setting on Mardi Gras flags.

As the sun set, the sky grew overcast, but there was still some nice light. I liked this grey coloring. It reminded me of the cemetery.

We stopped at Pat O'Brian's for a beer. EVERYONE was drinking hurricanes, but I already mentioned where that got me last time. So regular old beers for us.

This courtyard reminded me of our trip here with Clint and Enily. I have several photos of them standing in here by the fountain.

The sun disappeared while we drank. I guess we drank slowly!

From Pat O'Brian's, we headed to Mr. Ed's for dinner. Figured we'd have one meal in the Quarter.

Oysters Rockefeller for Steve

Oysters with lemon butter and parm for me

Then it was home to bed for an early night because we were getting up at 5:30 am the next day to trek over the Alabama for ride #2 of the weekend. Check out the deets on that adventure here.

We arrived home from Alabama the next evening in time to drive straight to a parking place at the Bywater Grill where we got a beer (to justify using their lot) then walked to the parade. Because, as I said, and as we didn't know, it was the beginning of Mardi Gras! This night was the Krew de Vieux parade, a bawdy affair meant to be X-rated and politically satirical. The bystanders were just as interesting as the participants!

I thought this woman looked like Kathryn, who would be visiting NOLA the next weekend

Parade participants tossed Mardi Gras throws into the crowd. We were in front so we got all kinds of goodies: stickers, a penis themed Bingo board, vodka, a stadium cup, a shot glass, and lots of condoms.

Yes, this is a female super hero flying out of a butt. The title reads Vaginal Avengers Gone Anal (for MVAGA). And yes, that's Trump's butt.

Floats were pulled by donkeys and people on foot, and people on bikes.

Loved this one. The Green Party: Can't we all just get a bong?

And who could forget Trump blowing "We the people."

The erect oral college

C.R.U.D.E. lights a Trumpster fire

A bad pic but I wanted to remember the people on bikes. This could have been my New Orleans bike ride!!

Spermes holds a huge cockus

I didn't take pics of the jazz bands as they went by because I was too busy listening to them. But there was a band in between each float. Lots of music and laughter. When suddenly it was over Steve and I were left standing in the middle of the street looking for more.