3_rides

864.75 miles of Mississippi

Somehow I was in East Louisiana for 10 days. It just happened.
Somehow I was able to take three long rides, each over 275 miles, all in the same small part of the state.
Somehow I gained a new appreciation for some old roads.
Somehow I avoided a deserved disaster. And.......
Somehow I am lucky enough to be re-riding one of those three rides tonight.

This is the first of the three outings. It encompasses much of what I like. I just posted the pictures and I was amazed at what subjects were covered. The two remaining rides in this series complete my portfolio except for "trains". I don't think I saw a train, but I did cross a bunch of tracks. There, now it has "trains" in it. Let make tracks and get on with the ride.

Just like any other trip, it was time to get out the map and stare. "Duh, where do I go? I don't want to go too far, but I want to make a day of it, well what's left of the day since it's 10:30 already, but it's really only 9:30, ok, since the time has changed I'm doing well. Naw, I did Louisiana the last time here and it's Mississippi's turn. I could go west toward the US 51 corridor or further west and do the US 61 corridor. Did that just recently and it's a long pull. US 51 is a little boring, riding wise. What the heck, I'll head up MS.43 just because that part of it in Pearl River County is great riding and maybe I'll check out Baxterville since my last visit there was confined to escaping the rain under a cover at an old grocery store. That's enough to get me started".

Ok, pay attention, I'm only going to write this once. Bogalusa, lower left, is where I entered MS. See MS 26, take it only a few miles after entering MS and then turn north on MS 43 toward Baughman, a mythical place. That road is the western boundary of this area. It rides the ridge above the Pearl River Valley below Columbia MS. In the past it has only been the best way to get to MS 587, Red Bluff Road, above Foxworth. Today, I'd find out that it offers distributaries off into a maze of history and natural beauty I had no idea existed there. I figured the land east of MS 43 to be only forest until US 11, penetrated only by MS 13. My one lone visit to that area had been on Bilbo Road in the "My Mississippi Mardi Gras" ride years ago. That road had been revisited behind Ray Fagan's dust, rock slinging, fish-tailing bike a few years later. Either ride would have been enough to keep me away until now and "now" was completely accidental since Bilbo goes aka assuming a different name until you realize He's got you. By the way, Bilbo's reputation is probably why the road has never been paved.

Mz.Guzzi was coming down with something and I didn't know what it was. She'd shake a little now and then which had me
thinking a U-joint was going out, a thing that happens to older Italian Women around the age of 50k or earlier, or so it had been whispered to me out of range of her hearing, what little she has left.

That thought worked on me as I leaned her over hard through the first serious curves coming off 26. Maybe it was a good idea
to cool it and just putt around with no baring down on the old girl. When she's not in the mood......I'm not even going there.
Gobbler Head made me laugh so we turned down the lane, me whispering in her ear, "Feel at home you old turkey"?

A little house appeared along this stretch of Katrina battered forest. The old houses are doomed. Their roofs have been breached by the storm and soon only rusted tin will remain. Have you ever visited a place where you once lived only to find it gone?
Isn't that a wierd feeling.

Down the road a mail box had been converted into a bird's home. I know what you're thinking, "air mail". I was going to say that but it was just too corny.

Here's a couple of "out-buildings" at the farm the mail box served. That's a workshop on the left and a barn for something short on the right, maybe pigs or chickens.

A good farmer always had a garage for his tractor. The tractor, it seems, is the single most important tool on a farm, or close. Depends on how you catagorize "wife".

Gobler Head turned into Stanford Lake Rd. The lake turned out to be private and unreachable without going stealth. A fat red headed Italian woman does not lend to being stealth. I backtracked thinking I'd missed the road to Stanford Lake, but I hadn't. We popped out on Springhill Road. That is the Springhill fire tower and water tower. Which is taller? Find that on the internet, Daigle.
(Daigle crowns himself as the King of Search, which I'll grant him, but Ray, you can't submit a gas tab for playing on your computer).

With the lack of GPS tracks, long eaten by other GPS tracks, I can't say where I headed back toward MS 43, but I did. I think it was right after the water tower. Roads like this pull me down.

A mother and child down at the pond. I may go vegitarian if I keep taking cow pictures. Too cute.

I was now down in the flats. I must have crossed over into Marion County.

"Bikers Welcome". Why would you have to say that? Are "bikers" usually not welcomed in churches? How about Old Bikers? Are we welcomed? I think the AARP and ACLU, maybe the ASPCA, too, need to hear about this one.

It was Sunday morning, in mid-March. I think the Christmas wreaths were still up. Must be light on bikers and other welcomed categories.
Yea, I'm fishing for hate mail again. Fred, just put it away, OK.