We packed up camp early, backtracked to the main highway, and started rolling towards New Orleans.
Much like Alabama, we weren't in Mississippi for very long. We took Highway 90 into New Orleans, which is a fairly smooth road with good shoulders. It also has almost no traffic because the Interstate is just a few miles away. Great riding. However, this road isn't cool enough for a giant "Welcome to Louisiana" sign. Or perhaps it just isn't a very welcoming state.
Riding over a few big bridges, we could see for miles.
It also crossed us into the outskirts of New Orleans.
The evidence of Katrina is still very obvious in New Orleans (and all along Mississippi the day before). But the recovery continues to move, slowly and surely. Even on a Saturday morning, there were dozens of construction crews out working to rebuild houses. Many new places are being put on concrete piers instead of timber piers.
Riding into town, we saw a few signs warning of traffic delays for a bicycle race on Sunday. I had totally forgotten about the New Orleans Half Ironman. I found it pleasantly amusing that I could see some of this race and then ride for another week to compete in the Galveston Half Ironman.
Many, many people left the city after Katrina and haven't returned. While this has resulted in a large number of neglected empty buildings, it's also allowed some streets to be made awesomely bike friendly. What used to be a 3 lane road is now 2 lanes and a huge bike lane (complete with buffer zone).
Eventually, we reached the French Quarter where we ate some lunch, drank a daiquiri, and took some photos.
We watched some sweet street performers, and then began to ride towards our stopping point for the night.
Less than a mile out of the French Quarter, I managed to crash my bike. Well done. The streetcar generally runs along the median, but there are a few blocks where it runs along the street. I was being a bit too casual and as I slowed to stop at a light, I got my front tire caught in the track. Down I went, making a spectacle in front of a handful of pedestrians and other drivers. Luckily, the scratches and dings were all cosmetic, on both me and my bike.
Many years ago, I went on a sweet backpacking trip to Alaska. One of the guys on the trip was (and still is) named Shawn. He and his wife were gracious enough to let us stay at their house, use their washer and dryer, and they even took us out to dinner.
It was awesome. We ordered 10# of boiled crawfish. It took me a long time to develop any skill at eating them, and I will likely never possess the skill that Shawn exhibited.
Once again, huge thanks to Shawn and Lauren.
Day 32 - 76.56 Miles
Trip to Date - 1659.93 miles
Coast to Coast - 713.48 miles
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