OK, up by 1030, want to exit the pink & yellow motel post haste, and gone by 1055. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Daq Shaq is backed up, family values in full force there this morning! I had left myself about 150 kms as the crow flies, but my planned route also saw me cross the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway so I guess you could say I took the long way, which ended up being about 300 kms. That theme would be a re-occurrence in coming days.

Here is my LP crossing. I will be up front with you and tell you that the majority of the video, the driving across the bridge part is a video I scraped from YouTube, and it is actually a South to North crossing, the opposite of what I did, but the start, middle and finish are mine. When I got to the bridgehead I found my HeroCam battery was dead. Bad planning on my behalf so I was only able to shoot footage with my handicams when I was stopped!



The crossing was uneventful, however I was going to stop in crossover 4 but had to go to 5 as a LA Statie had someone pulled over. Marked cruisers sat in virtually every crossover so you'd hafta be kinda stupid to get caught speeding.

The vehicle assistance trucks service solely the causeway. Naturally there are actual breakdowns, flat tires or overheats, but apparently about 6 times a month someone will get a ways across and then lose their nerve and have to get towed or driven across by these guys.

There is an interesting article about the causeway here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Pont chartrain_Causeway especially about the length of the bridge over water which has been hotly contested in the past.

At the south bridgehead I swapped my iPod for my iPhone which I had previously programmed my hotel as a favorite and let Siri take me there. We were mostly successful until we got to the famous Canal street which apparently is getting a new trolley track so 3 lanes were pared down to 1.

I knew I was less than 1/2 km from my hotel, she was already calling for the turn but we were going nowhere. My riding tack is comfortable enough at highway speeds but at a standstill I immediately begin sweating. Then if I sit still for more than 30 seconds The Rocket's electric radiator fan will turn on and blow stinky hot humid radiator scented air back on to me. Gross!

I thought I'd be sneaky and run on a street one over that was parallel to Canal. Siri had a small heart attack as she scrambled to recalculate the route, and I did get played due to some one ways but we did get to the Courtyard Marriott French Quarter in about 10 minutes.

The bellmen and front desk clerk were surprised and curious if not somewhat disappointed to have a large sweaty biker on their doorstep. The first thing the front desk guy said was they were sold out, but, aha, I had a reservation, perhaps somewhat to his chagrin.

He got a little friendlier mid way through the check in, right after I gave him my AMEX Platinum card. He even produced an ice cold beer from somewhere! All of a sudden this guy was my best friend!

It took me 4 trips to move all my ***** inside, then it was time to discuss parking. I had booked the hotel through Expedia and all the reviews were solid but everyone complained about parking. The parking garage the hotel used was about 4 blocks away, not very convenient! But I am an expert in 'inventing' parking spots, where none existed before.

I asked the bellman what the street parking policies were and they were Saturday (today) free after 1800 and all day Sunday. Sold, I parked across the street and bought a 3 hour ticket to get me to 1800, well 1748 at least! The bellman warned me sometimes drunken streetwalkers will sit on bikes to show off to their friends, but that had happened during Mardi Gras when the pedestrian traffic is about 1000 times greater.

Once I was checked in I quickly showered, changed into my weenie shorts and........... I remember the reference now. Remember when Vincent and Jules get rescued by The Wolf at Quentin Tarantino's house and they change out of their blood soaked Italian suits into shorts and tees? That's how I feel when I take my riding tack off.

So crossing Canal street I am on the edge of the French Quarter and the first piece of debauchery that I spy is..............wait for it......................The Daq Shaq! What was the culmination of all of mankind's stupidity the day before is now a gift from the heavens. I stop in and get a 24oz Mango, but practice restraint and don't get the 190 proof wood grain alcohol version.

I spend the rest of the evening walking down Bourbon Street and back up Royal Street. I had another Super Daq, Wild Cherry this time and end up at Pearl City Oyster Bar about 9 for a couple of racks of raws on the half shell. I stayed until closing time and when I left it was just starting to rain, in Gulf of Mexico fashion, that is torrentially. I was pretty sure the rain storm was going to discourage any drunken motorcycle ghost riders.

I had left my sheepskin seat cover on it as I was pretty sure it wouldn't get stolen, like who would? Who would steal anything that might have even a speck of bum sweat on it? Gross! It was now also soaking wet so I was pretty comfortable it wouldn't see any posers tonight.



I watched the storm for a while then retired to my room.

Yes it was 11 PM.

Yes I was in New Orleans.

Yes I am 50!

I intended to catch up on my blog as I have been consistently 4 days behind, but the call of the pillow seduced me instead. As my friend Thom Pardoe would say; 'crease pillow, insert face'.

Day 10
Eunice, LA to New Orleans, LA
286 kms