The day begins with the sound of the Uhaul truck backing onto the front lawn, ramp being pulled out and bikes unloaded by Marco. He clears out the Uhaul truck with all of our gear with the exception of what belonged to Bruno and extra gear that we wanted to send back, for today was the day that we parted ways.
We head to Tart for breakfast, which is a hip coffee shop, similar to one you’d find in the Williamsburg or Bushwick area of Brooklyn. As we enjoyed our breakfast we reflected on everything we’ve gone through and what we each felt we got out of this trip up until this point. It’s been one hell of a ride together and even though it’s a bummer to part ways, we’ve become all too familiar with making a decision and moving forward with it. We simply need to push forward.
Two footsteps out the door and rain drops began to fall. We knew this was coming but didn’t expect it to be so soon. The idea of waiting for the rain to pass wasn’t even brought up between Marco & I; rain or shine, we were making it to New Orleans. We immediately threw on our rain gear, gave Bruno a big ole hug and rolled out.
Shortly after we get on the highway, I pull over to fix my bike cover, which I used to keep my gear dry. It became so windy that it caused my cover to become a parachute and begin to undo itself. After the 3rd stop we finally got it right.
As we pushed along, we started to get hit pretty hard with rain and wind. At one point I wasn’t sure if I was hearing thunder or wind because of how loud it was in my helmet. We make sure to keep our stops brief so we can cover as much ground as possible, eventually crossing through Mississippi and into Louisiana.
Once we began getting closer to the more populated parts of the state there was a lot more activity on the highway. This slows us down yet keeps us sharp since the road leads through several construction zone sections which normally closes up a lane. We fill up our tanks and our stomachs as well with something decent for now, knowing that tonight we’d have a proper meal. Subway is the only decent option around, so it is.
We hit the road again, making one final stop to change wardrobe and visors. The night is falling upon us and the weather brings a slight coolness to the air which is pleasant but still bears the humidity that is known all too well in the south. After pushing into the night, plummeting every juicy bug brave enough to challenge the mighty antlers on my comfort king or the plasma beam leading Marcos BMW R90/6, we finally arrive to the highly anticipated New Orleans.
As we weave our way through the city to our destination, which is an AirBnB apartment, I began to notice how a lot of areas, particularly near water, had a bunch of construction signs and barricades. I was quickly reminded about something huge that happened to this city 10 years ago, Hurricane Katrina.
About a mile away from our destination, I look at my mirror and see that Marcos headlight is dim so after we arrive I give him a heads up about it. We’re greeted upon arrival by the owner of the apartment, Reginald, who was very courteous and intrigued by our trip. He gave us some great tips on where to grab some food and drinks which lucky for us was only 2 blocks away. The Rum House was his suggestion and specifically mentioned getting the Jerked Roasted Chicken. We go by his word and were not disappointed. A fantastic dinner after a solid days ride.
