The third leg of our journey started with a word of positivity from an elderly woman in McDonald's. Awestruck by her benevolence, Marc cranked out a few words to commemorate the occasion.
"I’m not very good at writing with feeling. It’s about 6 am. Chris is zonked at our palace suite aka the Rest Inn. I’ve been at McDonalds down the block using their wireless and staring at a computer screen while doing two things: booking our next shitty motel room, and finding directions to the next shitty motel room.
This morning we leave Memphis, after seeing my favorite at the FedEx Forum last night. I’ll leave the concert review to Salera and Ebert. We’re heading to New Orleans today, and the weather is supposed to be incredible. I just finished booking our room for the next two days; we’re staying an extra day to take in as much of the Big Easy as we can. Seafood and jazz – what in the hell could be better?
Ever since I’ve known Chris, everything we have done together has turned into a circus in some way or another. Most people can’t comprehend the decisions we make – sometimes we can’t. We’ve talked about this trip for as long as I can remember.
Some old woman just walked past and asked where I was headed – she said our trip is “a blessing from Jesus”, smiled, and said, “Imma pray for ya both, Hunny”. I’m not very religious, anymore, but that’s all I needed to make this moment one of the best on the trip so far.
It’s back in the car for another 6 and some hours. I’m traveling the country with my best friend – I’m so happy. McDonald’s coffee is pretty good.
That’s how you do it, Son.
Marc."
Well put.
Mississippi (I had to do the old M-I-Ess-Ess spelling thing to remember) crept up on us. The drive from Memphis to New Orleans is basically one road, I-55 South, the entire way. I watched as the odometer simultaneously rose with the temperature, sipped coffee, and downed a Super Bun for fuel.
As we floated past cars on I-55, I felt, for the first time in the trip, that we really had no deadlines and no reason to hurry. We had seen so much in 48 hours, and there was nothing I looked forward to more than taking it easy in the The Big Easy. With that in mind, we looked for some brown side-of-the-road signs aka attractions. About 60 miles outside of New Orleans, we found our winner.
The Camp Moore Historical Association is a museum/memorial cemetery located in Tangipahoa, La. Camp Moore was the site of the largest Confederate training grounds during the Civil War. The upstairs is complete with shelves of historical artifacts, including medical kits, shell fragments, historical documents, and more. Allison was kind enough to show us around. She said she had been working there for seven years, and by all accounts, she knew her stuff.
We took a walk downstairs and saw a huge work-in-progess: sprawling timelines, pictures of famous soldiers, historical documents (including General Lee's final orders), and much more. I probably learned more in 10 minutes than I did in any social studies class. A final walk outside through the memorial cemetery was the cap on a fine visit to Camp Moore.
If you want to check it out, you can become a fan on Facebook, the page is called:
Camp Moore Historical Association
Or, visit it for yourself if you're ever in the area (from the Facebook page):
"Camp Moore is open Wednesday-Saturday, 10:00 am- 3pm. $2 for students, $3 for adults, free for kids 6 and under. Come visit today!
Tangipahoa, LA, 70465
(985) 229-2438"
The final 60 miles felt like 1000 miles. I could not wait to get there and suck crawfish heads while sipping a cool beer. This last road was arguably the most scenic part of the trip, which given the competition so far, was not saying much (you can only look at so many miles of trees). As you drive in to New Orleans, you pass through miles and miles of marsh land. There's a long stretch of elevated road running through the bayou - certainly a dangerous place to run out of gas. However, this stretch offered some of the best, and flattest views of the trip.
The cool thing about driving here is just how flat it really is. In Pittsburgh, you don't see the city until you're halfway down Grant St. Here, you can actually see the city from about 20 miles away. With our goal in sight, we rolled down the windows and let the salty air permeate the car.
I could write a separate blog just on my first impression of New Orleans. Hulking by-ways loop through the city, and by all accounts, there is no indication that this city was almost underwater just five years ago. There is so much to say, and so much to see, but it will have to wait until I get a better look before I write more.
We eventually dodged traffic and found our way to the Sun Suites Hotel, located about 10 miles outside the city. Once again weary from a long day of travel, we checked in to the room (a legendary upgrade from our past accommodations) and prepared for what would be an unforgettable night.
Who Dat,
CPS
