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DAY
EIGHT COMMENTARY
"We
had
to close the tent site because of the snakes."
People, you just can't make up stuff like that.
I saw my
guys, Willie and Robert, again in the morning
before I left Lafayette/Carencro, and it was good to get the lowdown
on the
remainder of the evening and to say “so long”. Loading up on as much
free ice
as could fit in the cooler, I pointed the rig north to head to my next
stop in Shreveport.
The layout of the land had changed a bit as I progressed, less of the
low-lying
wetlands/bayou-type stuff and more of the standard wooded/country areas.
The front
tire on the bike was essentially brand-new,
having been installed just before the trip began, so it was tracking
straight
and true on all but the most uneven of surfaces, or when a
tractor-trailer went
blowing by. I noticed that I needed only a fingertip’s worth of
pressure on the
handlebars to make in-lane corrections, so I got to thinking about the
next, comfort-based,
modification I would be making.
Although
I didn’t need any gas at the time -- just my luck -- I passed a station
that was having a “Roll
Back The Clock” promotion.
As I’ve
mentioned that I’m driving much more slowly than
usual, I find that I often have time to spot a bug flying through the
air ahead
of me, allowing me to handicap whether it will be pushed well above me
by the
air wall built up in front of the windshield, or if it’s about to skip
just
over it and force me to duck (or risk catching it in the face). Well, I
observed something else very interesting in the zone in front of my
windshield,
just before the town of Alexandria, wherein I saw a moth fluttering
about, followed
suddenly with a House Sparrow (passer
domesticus) in rapid chase right behind it. As the two moved
from right to
left, into the left lane, the moth twice ducked and weaved, and the
sparrow put
on the brakes and veered immediately after it in lock-step formation.
Then I
was past them before I could see who had emerged victorious in the
battle -- the
sparrow, satiated for the moment, or the moth, surviving. I thought
about how a
Boeing 747 needs over a million miles of wiring to allow it to merely
glide
through the air, while this 3 oz. thing with a brain the size of a ball
bearing
can stop and turn on a dime in mid-flight. I thought about how the
events of
those 1.5 seconds were all that existed in their little universe at the
time,
and I wondered whether they were any less or any more important than
anything
that
existed in my universe at the
time.
Or at any time. Right?
Finally,
I thought that if ever you need a sparrow
killed, you call this
man without delay.
I-49
exited to I-20 via what must be the highest flyover
I have ever been on; I mean, we were UP THERE. I found the KOA
Shreveport
campground with no problem and pulled
in, reminding the owner about her “snakes” comment to me when I had
called on
the phone. She and her husband assured me it wasn’t meant for humor --
a
recent
period of heavy rains had followed a long dry spell, first drawing
cottonmouths
and water moccasins to the surface, and then for whatever reason
dissuading
them from going back down. I joked that I wanted my money back if I
didn’t
see
one during my stay, though we all know that I probably would have seen
one at
just the wrong moment and have had a heart attack on the spot.
Now,
Shreveport originally was, then was
not, then finally
was again on the
itinerary, an extra
day having been “freed up” when my two night stay in Grand Isle, LA
was, um “waved
off” due to the ongoing beach replenishment process. This allowed me to
make
plans for three shorter riding days (~200 miles) instead of two longer
ones
(~300 miles), and put it back on the map. After joking about the snakes
and
chatting a bit, they said I was in “Kabin
One”, as they “kall” them at
the Kampgrounds
of America. (“Kute”!) I asked if it was the VIP kabin, and naturally
they said
yes, but this was no laughing matter, people, for look at those
photographs: I
had the (air konditioned!) kabin klosest
to the pool, to the laundry
room, and
to the showers -- each of which was in wonderfully klean kondition.
(The
KOA in Tellico
Plains, TN, was in fantastic shape, but this one was even better.)
Plus, I kould
pull the rig right
up to the kabin steps. Seriously, kould this place
have
worked out any better?
Seriously,
no, it could not have. Excellent!
I
selected a packet of the “El Capitan Three-Bean Chili” for
a late afternoon snack and, sadly, proved that I still had not regained
the
touch for lighting the camp stove as smoothly as that first time back
in NC. In
fact, it took me about fifteen matches before I could even get a
sustained
flame. Once accomplishing that, however, I must say that I pulled off
my best wild
west “Cookie” routine, as the chili required pan heating, not pouch
preparation, and it turned out to be rather good. So now there’s only
one food
item left that I haven’t yet sampled, and the other five have been good
to very, very
good.
I took a few moments to secure some
cord to two zip ties (along with beer, food and velcro,
pretty much all
a body could ever need) onto the handlebars,
for reasons which we would later
decide whether to have been justified or not.
I stayed
up until well after the last chili bean had been
consumed, very late, all for you folks, doing web updates. I hope
you’re happy.
And no, I never saw any snakes.
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