Trip to Louisiana

In my last post, I said tomorrow, but I will go ahead and tell you today. I went to Rayville, Louisiana to visit and old friend.

At 5:02 a.m., I pulled out of the driveway on Crockett Ave and headed for the MacDonald's on Highway 82 West. One car was ahead of me in the drive through. He waited about a minute then blew his horn. After another minute and another horn blow, I left. If you want to know how not to do things, come to the delta. We specialize in bad service.

I stopped at Mikey Dee's in Indianola and got the coffee I craved. Then I proceeded on to Greenville, across the bridge and into Arkansas where I turned south and headed for Louisiana. At Kilbourne, I noticed that the building that formerly housed the Old Warehouse Fish House was gone. I had read that it collapsed in the ice storm last winter. The tables and chairs were stacked out front while the slab sat there naked begging to be built upon.

After Kilbourne, I stopped at a convenience store in Oak Grove, Louisiana to get more coffee. When I made my way to the counter to pay for the coffee, I notice two rows of long arms behind the counter. There were bolt action rifles, shotguns, and "assault rifles." 

"Wow," I commented. "I have never been in a convenience store that sold guns."

"We sell everything here except socks," the cashier answered.

I love it. I always liked Louisiana. Dad used to fish a lot in south Louisiana. I made some trips with him down there. I also have long admired LSU football. I found it fascinating that they could field nationally competitive teams filled with players from towns in the state that is takes a road atlas and a magnifying glass to find on the map. My wife and I used to eat fish in north Louisiana, in Kilbourne, and of course, you have to admire a state where you can buy a gun and coffee under the same roof. 

Now I was making a foray further into northern Louisiana. After Oak Grove, I travelled a plethora of back roads into the real part of the state, into the part where real people live. Thanks to a smart phone, I was able to confidently make turn after turn until I made it. I followed orders and turned into a driveway that was supposed to be Jimmy Pelley's. Stopping the truck, I looked out the windshield at ferns everywhere. This must be it, I thought, because Jimmy told me they had a fern rental business. 

Stepping out of the truck, I noticed Jimmy sitting in a swing under the carport. A smile broke across his face and one mine. "Hey old Geezer," he said. We hugged, then sat outside, drank coffee, and chatted. I asked how long it had been since we had seen each other. I thought it was last at the 2004 camp meeting, but he reminded me that we had once bumped into each other at the Cotton Classic in Greenville. However long it had been, the distance vanished like the morning dew before a hot sun. That is the way it is with old friends, with real friends: time and distance does not change things. It was as if we had been together only yesterday.

To make a short story long, we loaded Jimmy's bicycle and headed out to West Monroe. One of his daughters, Katianne, and her husband, Caleb, live there. We were going to take a cycle ride with them. When you get to West Monroe, you are not in the delta anymore. The land bumps up and looks a lot like Carroll County, Mississippi. 

We picked up Katianne and Caleb in an upscale neighborhood and then traveled to a Fox's Pizza where we parked and unloaded our bicycles. We rode from there. I, of course, was totally lost the whole time. Not only that, but the hills were kicking my hinder parts. We rode through neighborhoods, through a golf course, by lakes, past churches, around farms, through woods, past chicken coops, up hills, down hills, across bridges, and even near an interstate. Finally we finished back at Fox's with 25.36 miles on our legs and butts.

Rhonda, Jimmy's wife, was in the parking lot. I thought that meant we were going inside. It meant we were going inside. Fox's pizza is good, yeah. We ate and visited and it was nice. Caleb is really nice and Katianne is very strong on a bicycle. After that, we drove back to Rayville, and it was time for me to head home.

I had a nice trip and am glad I made it. Usually I go back to work in the fall and wish I had done several things. Well, I can mark this one off my list. I did it. Maybe I can do it again. I only wish I had taken some pictures.

Thank you, Jesus.