The Big Easy
When I attend a work conference it usually translates into an opportunity to get another ride in. One year I went to New Orleans, Louisiana to attend the Electrochemical Society Conference. I packed my work clothes, computer, and notes on good bike rides in the area, flew off, and dreamt of bayou biking.
I immediately became fond of the place. First, there was the 90-year-old woman on the flight with purple hair who wasn’t afraid to use the bathroom as we were descending. Then, there were the thunderstorms, which occurred often. While most people tend to despise rainy and stormy weather, I am the opposite. To quote one of my heroes, Alvin Straight, “I just love a lightning storm.”
Of course, I can’t forget to mention the blues music and Cajun food. On a number of occasions, I strolled into a random eatery only to be treated to live blues. Sometimes it was communicated through electric guitar, other times through piano. My favorite Cajun meal was the Crawdad plate with seasoned fries, which I scarfed down so feverishly that I garnered laughs from the wait staff. Finally, there was the person in the Darth Vader costume jamming out to techno beats by the Riverside. No additional elaboration is needed there.
A Greenway Town
To my pleasant surprise New Orleans had a good network of bayou biking trails. I decided that the Lafitte Greenway was where I wanted to be. It allowed me to transit from the French Quarter to City Park, linking two NOLA fixtures in one ride. I wish every major US city had a Greenway. I’ve lived in Minneapolis, with the Midtown Greenway and Portland with the Springwater Corridor. This would be my third ride on a Greenway.
Before getting on the Greenway I had to get a bike. Flambeaux Tours, on the edge of the French Quarter, helped me out with this. Eric, a local with a thick NOLA accent gave me the lowdown and hooked me up with a red cruiser. It was not a demon for speed but it had a big cushy seat and a basket on the front. It was perfect for some bayou biking in hot and humid weather.
To connect with the Greenway I rolled over to Louis Armstrong Park, the only park I’ve been to named after a trumpet legend. It had big trees, ponds with ducks, and a statue of the legend. There was someone playing jazz in the park as well. From this point I got onto the paved trail and headed northwest toward Lake Pontchartrain.
Born on the Bayou
The ride was flat and pleasant. It passed under busy overpasses, by neighborhood fences, and through the real Bayous. This was my first ride through bayou land, but not my first time visiting a bayou. A quick word on that.
A few days earlier I visited a huge bayou for an alligator tour. That particular bayou was outside of town, swampy, and full of gators. It also had wild hogs, abandoned boats, and a big, bearded Cajun tour guide. There’s a separate post about that so I won’t get into it here.
Back to the bayou biking. The bayous on the Greenway were similar to city lakes, but with some swampy features. I was told they housed gators but did not catch a glimpse of one. The main bayou on this trip was Bayou St. John, in the neighborhood of the same name.
I do it for the beignets, not the biking
At the end of the Greenway, I went down roads along the water’s edge until I came to City Park, the northern terminus of my voyage. I stopped at Café Du Monde and had my first beignet, a legendary NOLA pastry. It’s French, made fresh, and doused in powdered sugar. I sat in the shade, eating my pastry and admiring the cypress trees that dotted the park landscape. This is the whole point of biking. Do a lot of work so you have justification to be lazy.
After this siesta I went cruising around the trails in the park. It is very large park, stretching from the Bayou St. John neighborhood to the shores of Lake Pontchartrain. I hit just about every trail I could, taking in the sights along the way. There was a wedding going on, row boaters in the water, turtles and swans roaming around, and plenty of cypress trees. I made sure to go at a slow pace. It seemed the appropriate pace for a hot, muggy ride after a lunch of beignets.
When I felt I had explored all corners of the park I headed back. When I got back to the bike shop no one was home. I gave Eric a call; he was on his lunch break. I rested on the sidewalk, enjoying the day. In a short time, Eric strolled up and I gave him back the red cruiser. Then, I walked into the French Quarter, grabbed a balcony seat at a restaurant and guzzled down an Abita Amber, my new favorite beer. I said earlier that biking, especially bayou biking, is justification for laziness; and I mean it.
