Day Forty: missed turn, melville venting, ferry, gravel, no rooms

I slept for 8 1/2 hours last night, and I slept GREAT. Who would've thought?

Of course, my experience at the Bamboo Motel would not have been complete without hearing someone in the next room having sex. It's almost cliche. The walls are paper thin, and I heard them enter the room as I was loading my bike.

The walls are thin enough so that you can hear every word being spoken in the next room. I could've heard every word they said... if they'd said anything at all.

I think it was Austin, but didn't want to knock on the door to find out. I just slipped away into the morning.

But not before taking this picture. It was taken by placing my camera on the floor in front of the door. There's quite a large crack under the door.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

My knees were a little sore yesterday, and even more sore today. It's not too surprising - I've pedaled 254 miles in the last three days. This morning, for the first time on this trip, I took some ibuprofen.

Four miles past Mamou the road was blocked off.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The woman wearing the orange vest and holding the STOP sign said they were pouring "powdered cement." You could see it floating through the air down the road. She said it's really not good if it sticks to you.

Hmmmm.... I wondered if it would make me hard.

She said I could take the next road. She was unsure if it was gravel or dirt, but was sure it would get me to Ville Platte. "You can't miss it."

I hate it when they say that.... I never saw it.

I'm attaching a picture of the map, though I'm not sure if you can see it very well. My new route took me east on 104, south on 29, east on 1167, northeast on 103, southeast on 10, then north on 10/182 into Washington. (the red line is where I'm SUPPOSED to be riding)

From mark on a bike 08 3

At one point I saw a sign that said "End Maintenance," but I think it was placed there accidentally. For them to have ended the maintenance, they would've had to start it first.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Here are some pictures along the way.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I kept seeing flooded fields and wondered if they were rice patties or something.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Until I saw a giant stack of traps and realized that they're some kind of seafood farm.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I stopped for lunch in Washington and listened to the happiest people I've met anywhere. EVERYone who came through the convenience store/cafe was laughing, smiling, teasing their friends....

...and I love listening to the Louisiana/cajun accents.

In Lebeau I left the ACA route. It goes way north to Moreauville, then back south to Morganza. I can trim 42 miles off the route if I cut straight across at Melville.

From Lebeau I went through Palmetto and reached Melville at 3:00. Imagine my surprise when I found that there wasn't a bridge... there was a ferry.

Imagine my dismay when I saw the sign: FERRY CLOSED

That means I have to ride south to Krotz Springs, get on 190 East to Livonia, then head northeast again to New Roads.

Oh well... it's just pedaling. I head back the way I came and into Melville.

I had actually planned to take a break in Melville. As I was leaving I thought I should stop and refill my water bottles and maybe have a small snack.

There was a conventience store at the edge of town. I almost didn't stop, but knew I had some miles ahead of me so decided to make this a fifteen-minute rest stop.

There were two women in the store, the cashier and another woman who appeared to be just hanging out there. I bought a drink and as I was paying for it the cashier asked where I was going. Then she asked where I started. I told her some about my trip and and eventually mentioned mentioned about how disappointed I was that the ferry was closed.

"Yeah," she said, "It doesn't open until 4:00."

My eyes widened... "Huh?"

The other woman said, "Yeah, they close down in the middle of the day."

So, I wouldn't have to make the run around after all. I'd just have to hang out in Melville for an hour. That didn't seem so bad. Knowing I'd be here a while, I said, "Melville seems like a nice town."

The two women, Courtney and Linda, simultaneously looked at each other, then looked at me. "That's cause you don't live here."

At that point I felt like I was watching a tennis match. Back and forth, back and forth, they took turns talking, sometimes finishing the other's sentence.

"If you live here, EVERYbody knows your business."
"That's right. Everybody in town knows you're in this store right now."
"And they know you're travling across the country on your bike."
"They're askin' each other if he's a FBI guy, comin' in on a bike."
"And some of them are saying that we're dating."
"Did you SEE how long he was in there? Just hanging out and talking to her."
"People are just bored cause there ain't nothing to do."
"And when they try to put up something nice,"
"Like a pool hall or a game room,"
"People just tear it up. They got no respect."
"They got no respect. And don't EEEEVEN think of doing good for yourself."
"That's right. If you have any money, they think you're a drug dealer."
"Of course, if you got money, you probably ARE a drug dealer."
"Yeah, there's a lot of drugs."
"But most of the people just get drunk."
"And EVERYbody's on disability."
"Or Medicaid."
"Or both."

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Eventually, one of them laughed and said, "Sorry to vent like this. We got nobody else to gripe to except each other." Then they both laughed. I think my visit was cathartic for them.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I decided to leave a little early in the hope that I might get on the ferry and convince them to leave five or ten minutes early. When I got there at 3:40, the captain hadn't arrived. There were a couple of other guys there, and one of them chatted briefly between the chores he needed to do to get the boat ready to leave.

He thought I was crazy.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

This is the Atchafalaya river, the swiftest river in the country according to Linda.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The guy on the boat did warn me that I have some rough road ahead of me. I already knew that. When I looked at the map it was a dotted gray line, which means gravel. However, I had no idea just HOW bad it was going to be. The gravel wasn't so bad, but it was sand and gravel. It was like trying to pedal on a beach. My rear wheel was out of control, sliding all over the place and sometimes spinning. My wheels cut deep ruts into the road as I pedaled.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

This continued, at 3-5 mph, for five miles.

By the end, my knees weren't just sore, they were starting to hurt. Riding on that type of surface really takes a toll on knees.

I hooked back up with the ACA route in Morganza, having painfully cut 42 miles off my total mileage.

A picture I took just before arriving in Morganza. I tossed my glove down so you could get some perspective on the size.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I thought about camping in Morganza, but I still had just enough time to make it to New Roads if I didn't dawdle. I pedaled strongly, and my knees grew worse.

Today is Halloween. When I arrived at the hotel, I saw a truly scary sight.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

...especially because it's almost dark outside.

I went inside and asked the lady about the sign. "Oh," she said, "That's just for the FEMA workers. We have some rooms we keep open."

I checked in and asked her about a good place to eat. She directed me to Lucky Pierre's for some good seafood.

After a shower and some clean clothes I pedaled down the street and entered. The police officer on duty caught up with me as I was walking down the hall and told me that no bags were allowed in the restaurant. This establishment is actually a casino/restaurant, and he said he'd be happy to hold it for me. Since he had a police officer's uniform on and a big gun at his waist, I thought he was pretty legit, so I took out my money, credit cards, cell phone, and PDA, leaving him holding the bag.

In the restaurant I finally got some good cajun food.... Crawfish Alfredo. Crawfish... to me, they'll always be crawdads.

I was really thirsty, and kept refilling my drink. After I finished, I picked up my handlebar bag from the police officer and rode back to the hotel where I promptly took some ibuprofen for my knees.

When it was bedtime, I had some trouble falling asleep. I wonder if it wss the four Dr. Peppers I had with my meal.

80.49 miles
11.7 average
22.3 maximum
6:51:33 time
2021.3 total

Day Thirty Nine: jim, $24.00 motel, discovery channel

The Waffle House was just across the street so I had breakfast there.... waffles, of course. With strawberries and whipped cream - you know, because I need the calories for bicycling.

Outside the restaurant there was another bike. It was safely secured in a creative manner.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Thirty seven miles later I stopped for lunch at the Tiger's Den in Oberlin (pop 1437). You could order a wide variety of fried foods, or you could order a burger. The lack of food was complemented by the lack of service, the lack of ice in the machine, and the lack of desserts. There was also a noticeable lack of customers, which is surprising considering it's the only place to eat in town.

While I was waiting for my burger, a guy came in and asked if that was my bike outside. I said yes, and he sat down to chat for a while.

His name is Jim Riley, an 84-year-old pharmacist who retired 18 yrs ago ("Eighteen years??? Have I been retired that long??"). Anytime someone is in their eighties I assume they were in WW2, so I asked him. He said he was in the Marines, having joined when he was pretty young. Jim spent three years going to school all over the country, some type of officer's training, then was offered an early discharge as the war was coming to a close.

The Tiger's Den was closing, so Jim took off and I headed back out to my bike to keep riding. I was hoping to make it to Ville Platte this evening, another 25 miles. As I was about to ride away I heard a honk behind me and turned to see that Jim had pulled up in his Cadillac and rolled the window down. He yelled through the window, "You wanna come over and talk some more?"

If I did, I'd be spending the night in Mamou instead of Ville Platte. I thought about it for a second and told him that it sounds great. I'll bet he's got some stories to tell.

After his discharge from the military, he used the GI Bill to go to Loyola University to become a pharmacist. Although not originally from this area, his wife was, so this is where he landed.

His first wife died of cancer after many years of marriage. Several years later he remarried. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 1990 and died seven months later, in 1991. (With some quick calculations, it looks like he decided to retire when she was diagnosed) He's a member of the Rotary Club and tries to stay busy.

He told me a story of a couple on bikers who came through several years ago. The husband was really sick and he ended up letting them stay in his house for a couple of days. He still has the thank you letter he received from them, and pulled it out to show me. I kind of wonder if, after seeing my bike, the reason he went into the cafe was just to chat (he only ordered a small drink).

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Jim explained that Oberlin is the dividing line between Cajun Louisiana and French Louisiana. He also told me about the area's industry, that it's about half farming and half lumber. More and more companies are starting to get their trees from this area because they can replace them in as little as 33 years, whereas up in the Northwest it takes more than 60 years.

He talked a while about his niece, Kelly, who is attending medical school at LSU, and his sister, who is a Catholic nun (you know, his Sister sister) in Draper, Utah. He gave me her phone number and insisted I give her a call the next time I'm in Utah.

Eventually it was time to go. Jim gave me a couple of granola bars for the road and we said good-bye. He looked kind of sad that I was leaving, and I wondered what he'd do with the rest of his day, and how he'd spend the rest of his week.

Riding toward Mamou, I began seeing names on the mailboxes change to French names such as Fontenot, Deshotel, and Thibodeaux. Perhaps Oberlin is the dividing line.

Although the county lines are clearly marked, frequently I don't need a sign to tell me I'm crossing the county line. On occasion, you can tell because there's a liquor store just across the border of a "dry" county (alcohol can't be sold). The easier way to tell is simply by looking at the road. Sometimes, there are some dramatic road surface changes between counties.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Isn't the picture below a beautiful sight? It would even be more beautiful if it were on my LEFT side instead of my RIGHT side. A stiff headwind all day today.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Mamou (pop 2711) has one motel, the Mamou Bamboo Motel. When I rolled into town I gave them a call to find out the cost. (Apparently, I found the only ten square feet in town that my cellphone worked, because I had no coverage after this call)

Connie, the owner and manager, said it would be $35.00/night. You can get a room for pretty cheap in some of these small towns. While I had her on the line I asked her if there was a place near the motel where I could get some food. She said, "We're going to be opening up a bar but it's not ready yet." I briefly wondered what types of food she drinks, then asked her about a place to eat in town and was surprised to learn that there isn't a single cafe anywhere in Mamou. "You can try Main Street. They used to have one."

I pedaled through town and stopped on a corner. A guy was just closing up his store and he came over to ask me if I needed some help. I asked him about a place to eat and he also said that there isn't a cafe in town. He pointed across the street to an empty building and said apologetically, "We had a great Cajun restaurant but it closed a few months ago because of a divorce. It was kind of messy."

He added that the only place in town where you can get something to eat is the convenience store. They sell fried chicken and fried fish.

He asked a few questions about my trip and when I mentioned that I'm staying at the Bamboo Motel he raised his eyebrows and gave me a smile that said, "Boy are YOU in for a surprise...."

I pedaled down to the convenience store and placed my order: fried rice and shrimp. Sometimes you just take what you can get, and if you're hungry enough it tastes pretty darn good. I also drank a couple of soft drinks and bought a dessert to eat later.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

When I was paying for my food, the woman at the cash register began chatting with me. She said she sees a lot of bikers come through but they usually just grab something fast and take off. It was unusual for someone to have a meal there. I told her I'm staying in town tonight... "at the Bamboo Motel."

She actually wrinkled her nose.

By now, I'm really curious.... how bad can this place be? I was about to find out. It was getting dark so I started pedaling.

My map notes that the motel is 2.5 miles off the route, so I got directions and started riding. I rode for what seemed forever, keeping an eye out, but never did see the motel. Three and a half miles later I stopped at a convenience store to ask.

Raised eyebrows... "The Bamboo Motel? You're staying there?" I said yes, and got directions. By now it was 6:20. Sunset is at 6:15 or so.

Three and a half miles later I finally found it, signless, tucked away from the road between a large grain elevator and a Store-n-Lock. This is a picture of the "sign" (taken the next morning - it was too dark to take any pictures when I arrived) which told of the motel's presence. It's so faded you can't read it, and it's off the road about 75 yards above the Store-n-Lock buildings.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I rolled up to the office as a couple of dogs began running at me and barking. They were small enough that I wouldn't have noticed if they'd bitten me.

The office had a padlock on the door. I pushed the doorbell, but I could see that the wiring to it had been pulled out years before.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The owner, Austin, pulled up in a worn-out truck just about two minutes after I did. He was really apologetic about the place. He and his mother, Connie, bought it only a week ago. They got it "for real cheap."

Once inside the office he told me the rate, $35.00, and I gave him two twenties. He gave me $11.00 back in change. When I told him he gave me too much change, he just shook his head and said, "Keep it." On the way to the room the dogs came up and started barking again. He yelled at them to shut up, then explained, "The dogs came with the place."

There was a padlock on the outside of the door, but I didn't feel worried about getting locked in... I think I could've leaned against the door and the hinges would've ripped out of the rotting wood. These pictures were also taken the following morning.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Austin said, "The rooms in the back are nicer. Since the ones in the front are full, I'm giving you one of the back rooms for the same price." As he said it I noticed a lizard in the corner of the room.

He left me with a key to the room - a key to a padlock on the INSIDE. I went into the bathroom but neither of the two lights worked. In the back of my mind I thought that might be a good thing.

Sheets old? Just turn them into curtains!

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

And when I peeled back the curtains of my rear window I learned why the back rooms are nicer... a room with a view.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The signs on the door didn't warn about liability the way they did in Texas.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The decor was puzzling. Literally. The pictures were framed puzzles that had been completed, then laquered and framed.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Art everywhere!!

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I looked around for an angel on a toilet seat but couldn't find one.

A place to hang your hat and coat...

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Still, the water in the shower was hot and the bed was soft (though I did wonder HOW the bed became so soft). Sure, there were a couple of holes from cigarette burns, but the sheets were clean... and when there are too many holes, they can be used for curtains. I used my flashlight to shower and shave.

While I lay in my bed, I watched the insect kingdom around me in a life and death battle. Just above my head, I saw the biggest mosquito I've ever seen in my life get caught in a spider web. (no symbolism here - just straight facts) The mosquito was three times the size of the spider and managed to extricate himself from the webbing before the spider could envenomate him.

There was no TV, but I didn't really need one. I could watch The Discovery Channel right here in my room without it.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

74.00 miles (would've been 67 if I'd seen the motel right away)
11.8 average speed
21.4 maximum speed
6:13:34 time
1940.8 total distance

Day Thirty Eight: border crossing, missionaries, angels

I left Silsbee about 9:00 and started making my way east. I'm almost to the Louisiana border.

On the way, I passed through the Big Thicket National Preserve, though it all looked pretty much the same before and after the Preserve.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I took a picture of this house, and have absolutely no idea why. Probably for a very good reason. Perhaps you can figure it out. It's the only picture I took this morning, maybe because the only thing you can see while riding is the thicket.

In Kirbyville I stopped for lunch at Subway and took my laptop inside, mainly just because I could.

At about mile 50, I saw a sign welcoming people into Texas. There wasn't a sign on my side of the road welcoming people into Louisiana, though I'm sure they're happy to see me.

Since I didn't get a picture on the other end of Texas, I thought I'd get one on this end. There was a car at the sign, and it looked like someone else had the same picture idea. I rode a little faster to try to catch them before they drove away. Perhaps they'd be willing to take my picture by the sign.

There were two women in the car, and when I asked them if they would mind taking my picture they said they'd be happy to. When they got out of the car I noticed their black nametags.... they were Mormon missionaries.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

My first thought was, "Mormons in Louisiana? Wow, they really ARE going to the ends of the earth."

The two young ladies were, not surprisingly, quite pleasant. (I never learned their first names, unless they're both named "Sister") Once they learned I'm not in the market for a change in my beliefs, we chatted about bicycling. They've thought about taking a cross-country trip, and I started preaching to them about how anyone can do it, and how fun it is.

I think I have a couple of converts.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

As I ride down the road I see things, and I have to make a quick decision about whether it's picture-worthy. I can't stop and take pictures of EVERYthing; otherwise, I'd never get any riding done. Sometimes I can just reach into my handlebar bag, grab the camera, and take a quick picture without stopping.

Today I saw something that, looking back, I really wished I'd stopped for.... true art, and something I'm not likely to see again (except in other, very rural parts of the South). Combining two art forms and two media, the ceramic angel and the porcelin toilet, to create a NEW art form: The ceramic angel sitting, thinking, on the porcelin toilet.

I've just gotta be quicker with the camera next time.

The hurricane damage is still evident. There isn't a roof that doesn't have a few shingles missing, and many of the roofs have blue tape along the ridge lines for, I assume, leaky spots.

I'm seeing a LOT of mobile homes along the way, I would estimate about 90% of the dwellings outside the larger towns (more than 2000 people) are mobile homes.

This was taken this afternoon. The top says "Boeing 747" and "Air Mail." The one beneath it says "64 Apache Helicopter Mail." The next sign says, "If package is too big for mailbox, take it with you. It's too big for me also!!" There is a normal mailbox at the bottom with a bucket next to it. The bucket reads, "Junk Mail and bills."

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

Here's another sign.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The top is a "Howdy" greeting, followed by "Grahamtown, USA, pop. 2" There are two columns. The first colums reads, "#1: President - Robert Graham; Senator - Robert Graham; Mayor - Robert Graham; Sheriff - Robert Graham; Judge - Robert Graham; Tax Assessor - Robert Graham.

The second column says, "#2: Vise President - Sandra Graham; Representative - Sandra Graham; Secretary - Sandra Graham; Bookkeeper - Sandra Graham; Justice of Peace - Sandra Graham; Constable - Sandra Graham."

And beneath that: "To heck with all elected officials anyway. They are about a dime a dozen. It's time to become more serious." Then, "If you have a problem, see #1. If you can't resolve it see #2. If you still have a problem, see #1 for final answer. If no satisfaction move along to the next town please."

And a picture of the main artery supplying Grahamtown...

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

There are also a lot of logging trucks on the road. The shoulder is wide and the traffic isn't heavy, so it's not really bad.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

They seem to be planting as well as cutting...

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

In Merryville (pop 840), just after Bleakwood (where's Grumpyville?), I stopped at the convenience store for a short break before finishing my ride into DeRidder. This is a sign in the window.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

So, if the DeRidder kids are better than ours why are we buying them new tennis courts?

A question we ask ourselves all the time....

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

In DeRidder (pop 7496) I called around and found the cheapest motel in town, but it was two miles off the route so I had some extra pedaling. It was a nice enough room, but the door wouldn't lock so I had to change rooms.

Now that I'm Louisiana I'm looking for some good cajun food - within walking distance. I found Faulk's next door and saw some great items on the menu: alligator, crayfish, and shrimp. Unfortunately, all of it is fried so I opted for a burger instead. It was the best cheeseburger I've had in a long time, and I've been eating a LOT of burgers lately. I'll keep an eye out for some more alligator though.

80.93 miles
13.5 average
22.6 maximum speed
5:57:43 time
1866.8 total miles

Day Thirty Seven: happy birthday, sally's cafe, century

Happy Birthday To Me.

Today is my birthday, and this bicycle trip is my birthday present. When I first told Heather, my wife, that this is what I wanted she understandably wasn't too excited about it. She's always been very supportive of my trips, but we had just moved to a new city. A city in which we didn't really know anyone. She would be starting a new job. Alone, in a strange place for two weeks, then I leave.

For TWO MONTHS. "Bye, Honey!"

But it's what I wanted, so she said yes.

Heather is quite an amazing person. When I met her, she was working as a forklift driver to pay her way through college. (certified on every forklift except one) She's one of the smartest people I know, and eventually decided to go to medical school. She recently completed her residency at the Mayo Clinic.

In addition to being smart, she's very well-read. For her sixth birthday, she wanted to go to the public library to get her own library card so she wouldn't have to use her parents' card. She continues to read everything she touches, including directions, newspapers, and cereal boxes. She's even read War and Peace.

In addition to being smart and well-read, she's handy. Unlike me, she can do plumbing, electrical, carpentry, and some automotive work. I can fill the car up with gas.

In addition to being smart and well-read and handy, she's fun to be around. She's always finding cool stuff to do, and she helps keep me young.

But the best thing about her is that she's my wife. So...

EVERY day is my birthday.

From Mark and Heather's World

Wanda had a meeting this morning that she couldn't miss, so my parents took me back to the Ranger Station. A cold front came through last night so it was a little cool. The temperature was low enough for there to be frost on the ground. Still, I'm not quite ready to complain about cold temperatures. Not yet.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I'm going to try to make it to Kountze (pop 1570) today. Shepherd is about forty miles away. That's too short, but the next place to stay after that isn't until Kountze. That'll make it an 88-mile day. I've had two days to rest, and am feeling pretty good.

For an old guy, anyway.

Here are some pictures I took this morning...

Trust Jesus, but put bars on the doors and windows for everyone else.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

The name of this town is "Pumpkin." I know that because I saw it on the state-made sign, and because that's what my map says.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I stopped in Shepherd for a short lunch at Sally's Cafe. When I walked in, everyone got quiet and stared at me for a second, then resumed their conversations. The place is dark, with brown paneling. The ceiling tile used to be white, but the years of cigarette smoke have browned it as well.

I ordered a cheeseburger and sat there in my booth, listening to snatches of conversation...

"I buried my momma two weeks ago. I tried to call you but didn't know how to get in touch with you."

"They just found out that Oh-bamma's daddy was really a communist poet."

"The reason those Democrats don't get Sarah Palin is because she's just so brutally honest."

"Skin Cancer. They took a piece from here and folded it down to my nose."
"Huh. I thought maybe Nancy had broke your nose."
"Naw, it'd be worse'n that if I done it."

I only took one picture because I felt like a sore thumb, and I tried to take it when no one was looking. The top sign says "Notice: Sexual Harassment in this area will not be reported. However, it will be graded."

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

After lunch, I rode hard through Dolen, Romayor, and Thicket with my ever-present headwind to keep me company. This part of Texas is called The Big Thicket. The reason for the name is that the forests have so much growth that they're impenetrable. The side of the road was like a giant wall of trees and brush.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I stopped for a break and a drink in Honey Island. It's just 7 miles short of Kountze - I'm almost there. It's a good thing, too, since the shadows are getting pretty long.

The owner of the store, Joe, was pretty busy. However, he did come outside for a couple of minutes to sit with me at the picnic table. After his usual questions, he said he sees quite a number of bikers every year. I explained about the ACA maps and he nodded and said, "Ahhhh, so THAT'S it."

Then he asked me where I was planning on staying tonight. When I said a motel in Kountze he said, "You ain't gonna get one."

He went on to explain that all of the motels are full because of Hurricane Ike. Not only are there a lot of displaced people, there are also FEMA workers swarming all over the place.

Then he grabbed a phone and a phone book and called all of the motels in Kountze. All of them said they were booked up, so he started calling the ones in Silsbee. After about the third one, he said, "You do? Hang on a sec. Let me let you talk to a friend of mine."

I told the guy to PLEASE don't give it to anyone else. I'm on my way. I didn't even ask how much it costs.

Joe went back to work while I was talking to the motel manager. He was always on the phone, and more frequently than not he was on two phones, the store phone and his cell phone. "Well, I wasn't planning on selling it. I don't know what it's worth, but I give four fifty for it."

This is the best picture I have of him. He's on the phone.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I waited a few minutes to thank him, but he was too busy so I caught his eye, mouthed "Thank you" and took off.

I had ridden a little more than 80 miles and was already tired, but I found the strength somewhere as I practically sprinted toward Kountze, then Silsbee. I passed a motel in Kountze and stopped to ask about a room, just on the off chance... but there were no vacancies.

It was getting darker and darker. Before leaving Kountze and pedaling the final ten miles I pulled out my flashing red light and attached it to the back of my bike.

When I finally reached Silsbee (pop 4915) I followed the ACA route through town looking for the motel. By the time I got to the other end of town I still hadn't seen it so I asked a couple who were closing up their shop. The woman told me how to get there, and a back way to do it.

When I arrived at the motel my odometer read 99.82, so I pedaled another hundred feet beyond and turned around.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

I checked in and was surprised at the cost of a room. I think the area's motels might've gone up in price shortly after the hurricane hit. One guy who was checking in actually said something to that effect, and the manager replied, laughing, that, "No, we went up right BEFORE the hurricane."

I showered, then rode my bike to Pizza Hut for supper because, you know, I just don't get out and ride enough.

I remember seeing Jack LaLanne on TV as I was growing up. As he got older, he continued to preach physical fitness. Each year for his birthday he performs some amazing feat. For his 70th birthday, he fought strong winds and currents as he swam 1.5 miles while towing 70 boats with 70 people from the Queen's Way Bridge in the Long Beach Harbor to the Queen Mary. He was handcuffed and shackled when he did it.

I'm no Jack LaLanne...

Still, 100 miles...

Not too bad for an old guy.

From Mark on a Bike 08 2

100.89 distance
13.3 average
26.9 maximum
7:33:39 time
1785.9 total