September 5-6, 2009
778 miles
I have enjoyed reading Greg Iles for years. His protagonist, Penn Gage, is a former Houston Asst. D.A. who returns to his hometown of Natchez, MS and becomes embroiled with all kinds of bad guys and good women. The stories are cracking good but his love for, and descriptions of, Natchez, Mississippi is captivating. Finding myself with a long weekend and a need for new places and roads, I decided to check it out.
Pulled out for Natchez about 1:30pm after my Saturday morning golf game. This trip meant more of the hated I-10 slab, with the further "benefit" of the very much hated US165N just east of Lake Charles. Why hate that road? Well...it's the road to the Coushatta Casino in Kinder, La and a favorite speed trap for Louisiana law enforcement. Go 'head. Ask me how I know. Answer: I've been on that stretch of road three previous times and got busted twice. Yeah, twice. Fool me once...etc. Anyway...creeping along at the posted speed limit (for a change) I managed to get past Kinder and pushed on up to Alexandria. Where I took US28E joining US84 (an old friend from many trips) west of Jonesville, La.
What I didn't know on those three previous trips up US165 was that Louisiana law prescribes 55 mph speed limits for all two-laned roads, unless otherwise posted. I didn't know that because the two cops who ticketed me previously didn't do me the courtesy of explaining the laws I had broken, indeed, fractured, on those occasions. The nice young Highway Patrolman who stopped me on US28 about half way between Holloway and Walters was kind enough to explain it to me. He further explained that if I held it down to 63mph I could probably skate on any of those roads. The speed at which he clocked me, however, was, in his words, pushing just a little too much. (Actually, he used the term "flat out, but that's not the case, Betsy will run like a scalded dog.) I mentioned he was a nice young fellow, didn't I? He was, he wrote me for less after giving me a warning. A service for which I profusely thanked him. I now have received four speeding tickets in my life and three of them were written in central-by-God, coon-assed Louisiana!!! I'm thinking of 1) never entering the state again, or 2) making sure Bobby J. is with me...nothing sticks to that guy (see JLB ride blog).
Weathering the rain (hehe) in Beaumont, and again just before pulling into Natchez about 8:00pm, I found accommodations easily (Quality Inn - $61/night) and settled in for a post-ride shower. As in the past, I find it difficult to appropriately describe the post-ride shower. The word sublime comes to mind. Along with nourishing, enervating, comforting...the warmth of a mother's embrace. It's really pretty special. I worry I will one day fall to sleep,and down, and drown in a post-ride shower. There are worse ways to go!
It was still sprinkling when I pried myself from the shower and I didn't wish to ride in it so I covered Betsy and walked over to the Mexican restaurant next door to the hotel. I ordered the required giant glass of water to try to re-hydrate myself after a day in the sun and wind. The waitress found me the largest mug I think I've ever seen, and filled it with water, earning herself extra consideration at the end of the meal. A couple of those with a couple of Dewar's on the rocks fixed me up. Went back to the hotel and studied up on Natchez, preparing for a good morning ride, hoping to dodge the predicted thunderstorms the Weather Channel seemed to take so much delight in telling me about.
Up fairly early and riding around a beautiful old city. Natchez was two years old when New Orleans was founded in 1718. It is the start of the famous Natchez Trace, used for thousands of years as the primary geologic connection to central Tennessee and Kentucky, and, from there, to New England. Architecture of the city is everywhere, Greek, Roman, Greek-revival, Federal, you name it, they got it. At least that's what one of the brochures implied. Me? They're just neat old homes to this ol' boy.
This is a bed-and-breakfast conversion of one of the older mansions in the city.
There are big ones and smaller ones. Interestingly, according to some of the data I picked up, many are still occupied by member of the original families...some dating back to the early 1800s.
Greek (I think)
Don't know...but I like lattice work and the "French-Quarter" look.
This reminds one of the "Widow's Walks" Captain's houses one sees in the coastal towns in Massachusetts.
This one is spectacular. It is called Dunleith. Built in 1856, it sits on huge grounds, surrounded by beautiful oaks.
There are several others that rival it in majesty but a guy can only look at so many houses without serious damage to Y-chromosomes. Ya gotta stop somewhere. I chose here. But not without checking out an interesting area immediately across the street.
This view took me immediately to 'Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil.' I knew I wasn't in Charleston ...but there was this Kevin Spacey-looking guy walking by....Isn't that moss great? Imagine walking into this area around midnight during a half-moon evening.
Unsurprisingly, full of dead people. But I didn't see them.
Finished with house-seeking, I head back into the old town and look for the Mississippi River. Not difficult to find, even without GPS. You just sorta head west from anywhere.
Pulling up to the top of the bluff I immediately discern I have found the Mississippi river.Iles usually has a tugboat or barge somewhere in the story, either threatening running over a character stranded on the river, or from which one may be thrown.
Looking down and to the left I see a road leading downward to the infamous Natchez-Under-The-Hill. This is where the riverboat docks were...and the gambling halls...and the bars...and the prostitutes...and all the ingredients to an interesting, if not altogether, wholesome evening...even unto this day.
If my historic memory serves, Jim Bowie once stuck a fellow down there with his famous knife.
As you can see, the gambling and gamboling continues...for some. Not old guys though. I motored off as quickly as I could, saving money for later trips. I have it on good authority not one casino, whether boat or building, has ever been built on a winner.
Last stop in Natchez, the city cemetery and the famous Turning Angel.
One of Greg Iles books is 'Turning Angel.' His latest, 'The Devil's Punchbowl' has action centered around this site as well. Rather macabre character, our author.
Local mythology has it that at night the statue turns giving the same perspective regardless of the side from which you view her.
Another "view."
It's not true in the daytime. Caught her looking the other way here. (But I had to sneak a little to do it....you ever try to sneak on a 1700cc V-twin?)
Pulled out of Natchez, crossing the Mississippi back into that wonderful investment opportunity, Louisiana. Had breakfast in Vidalia (may be kin to an onion in Georgia...or named after a former Spanish governor...pick the one you like), then headed back toward Alexandria passing, yet again, the site of yet another "market" loss of sorts.
Took I-49S at Alexandria with gumbo on my mind. Two miles out of Lafayette, I pull into Prejean's, a locally famous Cajun restaurant.
This is one of the favorite places of my friends, Leonard and Donna. Mine, too. It sort of gets short shrift from a lot of Louisianans in the area when asked, but I keep seeing them packing the place every time I stop in. And I stop in fairly often...especially since the site of the best, and I mean absolute BEST gumbo in world, Robin's in Henderson, La, closed last year. (The news media has been horribly remiss in reporting this catastrophic event.)
Given the demise of Robin's I would rank Prejeans a good third, following Landry's in New Orleans, and the new leader in the clubhouse, Jimmy G's in Houston. That's the Jimmy G's over by the Greenspoint shopping center off Beltway 8. It matters. The lady that makes the roux has been doing it for over twenty-five years...and experience matters where roux is concerned.
This guy greets you when you come in the door. I don't know the length, but he's the largest gator I've ever seen in my life, and I'm from Florida.
Had a cup of coffee and a bowl of gumbo and headed west toward Spring, TX. I would have stayed out and gone elsewhere but I've managed to shoot some fairly good golf (for me) during the last two or three rounds so I think a trip to Memorial, my favorite local course is in order for tomorrow.
Nice trip...be back next time.
Post-script: I should have stayed on the road. I putt like young people make love: often and poorly.
