Louisiana Flat Woods

Louisiana Flatwoods

Without going into specific reasons, let me just say it was time for a visit to the woods. The area I wanted to visit is one of streams, pines and sandy soil. There are rivers and creeks there.
Sure there are still some waterways called bayous but that is because they were named by explorers finding their lower reaches before their upper reaches. Bayous are supposed to be waterways whose levels are affected by the tides. These inland flowing streams are really rivers and creeks. I have been coming to this area since 1970. Floating and camping brought me there. The now popular Whiskey Chitto River was only known by the Boy Scouts and the locals. It runs fast and fairly clear most of the year. The sandbars are a beautiful white. Destin white.
Since I've learned the back roads, the ride to the Flatwoods is one of my favorites. Below is a little map of my ride. I'll skim over the route as we go along.

Bayou Teche

Grand Coteau

La.95 to Mamou

Flooded Sand Road
and tractors.

Reeds Bridge

Elizabeth Houses
and Sinclair Station

Link to Millers Lake Article

Bayou Nezpique

La.104

Dead End

Somewhere out there located on the map above I was tooling along and saw the barn. Let's call it on L 358, above and to the west of Church Point. I have a new rule of never passing up something I even remotely might want to look at later so I did a U-E and went back. The smaller pictures do not really portray the yellow flowers very well. That's a shame because they were really pretty. Then Mr. and Mrs. Horsey showed up and hit me up for a couple of bucks to take their pictures. You can't see it, but Mr. Horsey is resting his chin on Mrs. Horsey's back. Very cute. A very Spingie start to what I knew was going to be a great ride.

Green is getting ready to explode down here. I wanted to get out before that happened. Louisiana is really different without her cloak of green. And, it is a cloak. It hides stuff. It camoflages stuff. I guess that's redundant, but allowable when trying to make a point.

Yellow plants again. Again not really showing up. No, these farmers were not lost in a river. They are plowing rice fields. Don't ask me anything technical about what they are doing. For sure they were stirring up the water.

To the left and below is probably the high point of this article. Reed's Bridge, south of Oakdale. I was so happy not to have to go through Oakdale. Sorry, it's just that I've been there and Oakdale is not the woods. Reeds Bridge Road goes to the woods, the big woods. It crosses the large, fast flowing Calcasieu River, for now. I don't know how long Reed's Bridge has left. I don't how it passes any standard test. I am sure it has a history. I guess from looking at it that is evident.

    Bridge Over the River Calcasieu. I had no idea it existed. So many times I'll find roads that are named for the places they use to lead. This time it was different. In "micro touring", a new avant guard name for getting lost and not admitting it, the rider/author, upon finally returning home tells about the pictures he took of the things that were known to be there but he says he discovered them. Sounds familiar.
     Back to Reed's Br. The discovery of Reed's Br. amounts to the Holly Grail or the Lost Mine or Atlantis.
     Maybe not.
     But it was and still is exciting.

Here's the last picture of the Calcasieu as she heads for Lake Charles and points South. The Calcasieu has a huge valley and jumps her banks yearly. Many outdoor activities are made possible by her presence.

More to see. Press the "Next" button.

Barn and Horses?

After leaving the Mamou area I found myself on one of my favorite cross country gravel/sand roads. This time add /water to that discription. The road was floating. My front tire washed out (slipped) several times. When that happens the first time it is a little surprise resulting in immediate slowing with both feet down to access the situation. I have found my helmet full of sand before, prone on the ground lisening to an over reved motorcycle engine screaming its last cry of agony. I did not want to hear that again. I was in a situation for which I was not prepared. If I had had knobbies (mud tires) for tires, then things would have been different. I would make my way, feet down when uneasy, to the nearest hardtop road. I have learned when to say "when". This riding thing is supposed to be fun. Fun wasn't happening. On the way out I did stop for lunch and I took a few pictures, which was fun.

I consider a road "foating" when it looks dry on top and is completely saturated beneath the dried crust. That is what you are looking at above. I looked at it for about 10 miles.