Day 3, New Orleans, LA to Houston, TX

Happy July 4th!

We decided last night, that since it was July 4th, we probably wouldn't have to get up at 6 AM to move the bikes off the street to another meter that wouldn't start ticking until 8 AM. It was a holiday and we figured that the construction guys probably had the day off. It was risky, and made Tricia nervous, she doesn't like to break the law or live on the edge, but it was a good decision.

We were very relieved to find out at 8 AM on Friday, July 4th, that the construction crews were either hungover, or off for the day (although seriously, considering what we'd seen the night before, we'd definitely have to go with "they were hung over and didn't give a damn"). We had no tickets and didn't have to pay ridiculous charges for our bikes to park overnight (Note: the staff at the Hilton wouldn't consider letting us park 3 bikes in one spot, as per our request. They said they could let us park 2 in one and 1 in another, for $67 instead of $100.50). We opted to park all 3 in one metered parking spot on the street for free, so there, - I have my tongue stuck out at them at this point in my story.

Free parking, 6 PM to 6 AM! (Which on a holiday was 8 AM, or later) so take that you sucky valet!

I commandeered a luggage rack and snuck it to our room. We loaded all of our luggage, gear, and helmets on the cart, without a valet, and hauled it all out to our bikes at the curb. We are women, hear us roar!

We chatted with several folks walking by as we loaded up the bikes, telling them about Motor Maids and our trek to Texas for the 74th annual convention. One girl we were talking to, from Austin, TX, was particularly funny as she tried to imagine, out loud, how she could pack all of the clothes she required, for a two week trip, in our wee saddle bags. Scrunching her brow, she finally said "Ain't no way"! Too funny.

We left the Hilton, and headed to Cafe Du Monde. Several people suggested this as a must visit in NO. Finding suitable (okay legal) parking nearby was not easy. Public parking was $12 and we figured this would again be per bike, so we rode up and down Decatur St. until we found a spot in front of a truck. Technically it wasn't legal, but I figured we wouldn't be there that long, and hopefully we wouldn't get a ticket. Tricia parked with us, but I could tell, she was nervous! At this point I was thinking since she was so chatty, if we got a ticket, she could either talk us out of it, or land us all in jail.

Where the idea is better than the reality.

We wandered into Cafe Du Monde, and I have to say, I was very disappointed. First, the ambiance was not French Quarter at all. The tables (both inside the cafe and out) were cheap white/green metal pieces, from any place this century. ALL of the staff were Asian. There was not a single staff member that suggested they were of French Quarter heritage at all. And the serving mechanism was very in line with the staff. "What you order, pweeze?" Okay, still, I'm game so I ordered a small coffee and beignets eager to experience this recommended combination. The coffee was (and I have to confess I am a tea, not coffee, drinker), awful. It was so strong, I felt it might keep me awake the entire 12 days of my convention trip, so should be consumed with extreme caution. I took a couple sips and considered those couple of dollars wasted.

The beignets, 3 per bag, were fresh/hot out of the oven, or deep fryer, depending on how they are actually constructed. They were covered with powdered sugar and as far as I could tell, were small squares of funnel cake. Nothing to write home about, but still something to write in my blog, go figure.

Funnel cake, aka Beignet at Cafe Du Monde.

This historical street had lots of great architectural ambiance, but again, I'm anti non-authenticate. I'm not riding across 4 states to buy something in a shop on Decatur St. in a historical district, that is "Made in China". Thanks, but I'll pass. If it's not authenticate, I am not really interested. I can say I've been there,  I've done that, and be perfectly content to not ever feel obliged to do it again. I also wouldn't recommend it to others either. I'm sure, at one time, Cafe Du Monde was an authentic place to visit, with great coffee and pastries and a French Quarter feel, but sadly, that is not the case in 2014.
This sign though, was super cute and reminded me of Kathii Lee and Sally back in Florida. I wonder though, if the Pralines were manufactured in Thailand....

Loved the gardens on these New Orleans balconies on Decatur St.

Back to my blog on the previous night, of July 3, 2014, and the smell indicating the sidewalks did in fact double as outdoor urinals, the city workers came by with large hoses they used to vacuum up the debris from the night before, and with trucks spraying deodorized liquid to clean/mask the mess.

Decatur St., New Orleans, July 3, 2014, AM. Cleaning for another night of extreme abuse!

We went back to our bikes to make sure we weren't ticketed or towed, and just in time it would seem. The meter "person" just came by in their Smart car, so we got back to the bikes in the nick of time, although, I'm pretty sure we could outrun a Smart car.  And if we couldn't, I'm sure we got get Tricia to talk to the driver, while Janet and I made our getaway. Always got have a plan B!

It was probably between 10-10:30 AM when we actually left downtown to get back to I 10 West. I was leading once again, and once again had no idea where to go. Luckily my idea of where I was, and where I might need to go, was pretty good. Tricia Anne had accurately described to me the night before, that NO was at the bottom of a U shape, with the river (the Mississippi no less) being the U's container, and hence their terrible flooding when the levy broke. I knew we needed to get up to the west, top side of the U to get out of the city. I managed to get us out under I 10 W and then asked a guy how to actually get on the highway. He pointed us to the correct lane and we were off.

I 10 W in NO is a busy highway, lots of lanes coming and going, so once again I was forced to focus on the center lane (when there was one) strategy to get us moving in the right direction. Our next major city (according to Tricia Anne) would be Lafayette, then Baton Rouge, then Lake Charles, then we'd be near Texas. She did caution us that Baton Rouge was a pain and she always got delayed there by 30 minutes when driving to Houston.

Tricia taught me the "coolest", pun absolutely intended here, trick when riding. If you are super hot when you stop for gas, go inside and if the station has one of those walk-in beer coolers, walk on in. You don't have to buy any beer, but talk about being "cool". What a fun thing to learn to do while on the road.

Me and Tricia in a walk-in beer cooler!

We headed to Tricia's sister, Chris' place north of Houston to spend the night. Chris was expecting us that evening for a July 4th supper. The worst roads of our trip, so far, and interstate roads at that, were definitely on 10 West outside of/through Lafayette. Terrible pavement, if it really was pavement, scarred roads and potholes, made for tricky riding on a bike. And to top all of that off, it would appear most of Louisiana is a swamp so the roads are actually bridges built to get you over the swamps. Long bridges, some as long as 25 + miles. At one point traffic came to a complete stop on one of these super long bridge/road things, and we had to crawl along, only to discover, no it was not a 25 car pile up, as one might expect with that type of delay, but an 18 wheeler with a blown tire. He had to block the entire right lane, because there was no shoulder. Apparently the driver of the 18 wheeler didn't think pulling off and plunging into the swamp below was an option. How very inconsiderate for the rest of us.

I thought we were in the fast moving lane in this "stop and go" mess, but then the lane next to us would surge forward and I'd realized, "damn, we need to be in that lane". I'd wonder if we should switch over, or stay where we were. If I opted to stay, the other lane moved along faster. If I opted to change lanes, and Tricia and Janet followed suit, our new lane became the bottleneck. It was like being in a line at Wal-mart, we were never in the fast moving lane.

Once we got past the disabled vehicle traffic flow resumed, which when you are on a bike, wearing your safety gear, is a good thing. Air flowing in and around your gear means you will probably not cook from the inside out. Stopping in traffic for 30 seconds or more, all bets are off.

We had to go over another bridge, and it was very high up. We were getting low on fuel, well not low, but at our agreed mileage point. We didn't stop before the bridge, but it appeared part way across there was a port exit and a gas station, so I moved into the right lane. The other two followed me, because they are my followers. Unfortunately, further review showed we'd be in a harbor port and finding gas might mean manning one's own oil rig, so I had to then navigate heavy traffic to get back over to the left. I'm sure my followers were thinking mutinous thoughts by then, like what the hell is she doing, and why are we still following her? I just wasn't sure if this was going to be another 100 mile bridge. Luckily it was not and at the bottom was a normal exit with a gas station and we were able to fuel up and unwind for a few. That bridge had us white knuckling it for a bit.

When we stop at a gas station, it's not a simple stop. Pull up, get some gas, drive away. We have to get off the bikes, take off the helmets, and jackets if we're wearing them and super hot (which in Texas in July is a given). Then because we are women, we have to pee. And then we need more water so we can pee at the next stop. All in all, it's an ordeal. But after a few days on the road you get into a groove. We were in ours. Janet has a tank bag, and she keeps a big bottle in that with water she uses to douse herself to keep cool as she rides. We went into the restrooms but when we came out, she couldn't find her water bottle. We looked for it, and finally I spotted it on the ground one pump over. It must have fell off her bike and rolled away. I went to pick it up, a car pulled in, and drove over it, but not with it's wheels, it was still in tact. As I got to it, another car pulled in, ran over it and it exploded like a gusher. Janet and I laughed and laughed over that. True, it might have been maniacally laughter, but what the heck, we'd just survived all that crazy bridge riding, we earned it.

We got on the road and went past Beaumont, TX to 90 and got off 10 West. It was more of a country road and our plan was to take it to her sister's in N. Houston. All we had to do was watch for 1960. Chris told us it was after Dayton, TX. We rode through China (what?) and we rode on 90 for quite a while. It was country, then it was getting closer to Houston the clouds were getting very black. We could see a lot of lightening off to our left. 90 seemed to circle away from Houston, then back towards it. We never saw 1960, and Dayton was way behind us. We stopped and asked a FedEx guy for directions. He told us to take 10 to I-45 N and get off on 1960. That was the route Tricia Anne had given us and we were trying to avoid by taking 90. Another planned foiled! We found I-45 and got on it. And it reminded me of hell, I mean Toronto. Ha ha. I lived there and hated the 401 and I-45 was pretty much like that, but on steroids. Luckily it was a holiday, so the traffic was light. Which just meant, faster and crazier drivers, but not as many of them. Houston has those road signs that tell you how many minutes until the exits. So 8 minutes for exit A, 12 for exit B, etc... Exit 1960 was 24 minutes. Not a long time, unless you are on I 45, then time slows down to a crawl, or maybe it actually runs backwards. I was in a bit of a panic, "24 f'n minutes on this?" Then it was 17, whew, an hour later and we're 17 minutes away (it probably was not an hour, just felt like it and this is my blog, so I can exaggerate if I need to, in this case, I need to). Finally it said 5, and I thought, 5, 5 more, are you kidding me? Who can I complain to about how slow time passes on I-45? As I thought this, I noticed in my mirror Tricia moving to the right lanes. What is she doing, I'm leading? But I saw a new sign, it said Exit 1960? Seriously, I just saw the 5 minute sign, can't you sign people be trusted? Apparently not. So now I had to fight my way over, on a pink motorcycle, with insane motorists, 3 lanes of traffic. We got off the highway, pulled into a garage on 1960 and drank a gallon of rum. No, no, we didn't, we just got gas cause we were past our expected mileage, and we lit some incense and prayed to all the traffic Gods that got us through that mess. LOL.

Chris lived about 2 miles away, so riding to her house after that was a joy! We actually passed her in her sporty convertible coming to collect us. We followed her to her rural house in suburbia. Funny story about that, previously Tricia told Janet, "she's on stilts" and in Janet's defense, Tricia did not specify the house was on stilts, so I think Janet thought maybe Chris worked in the circus. That made us all laugh.

Chris' house in Houston. On stilts to protect it from flooding during a major storm or hurricane.
There's a creek right behind it. The house sways when people walk from one end to another,
so it's a bit like a boat, but in the air! Very cool. Chris and the local mosquitoes came out to greet us!

Chris was an awesome host. She let us all wash off the road grime in her shower, with all the cold water we wanted. She told us she used to tour around on a trike, camping no less. And she'd been to Banff, AB, Canada on the trike. She served us pulled pork, chips, pickles and drinks. She gave us apple pie and ice cream too. She bought us a watermelon, but we didn't have time to eat it and we couldn't fit it on any of our bikes! We talked and visited and enjoyed her lovely home in the air. Thank you Chris!

I slept on her queen air mattress on the floor of her office, Janet got her spare room and Tricia had to bunk with her big sister, like back in their younger days. LOL

Another great day came to end, but we were doing fabulous, a day early from our original plans. We figured we could ride into Kerrville on Saturday now, instead of Sunday. Tricia called the host hotel, but they told us at that point they had no rooms available but to keep checking on Saturday. We all went to bed tired, but happy, safe, sound (ha ha, whatever that means) and excited to be heading to the host hotel tomorrow.