Blog 4/14/10--Lessons

From the Liberty Inn, Franklinton, LA, via Droid

Repetition is the key to learning,  they say.  We, were reminded of a couple of lessons along our 90ish mile slog from beautiful St.  Francisville to Franklinton today.

First,  those, gals we caught up with yesterday really do have it good.   We stopped at a grocery store 15 miles into the ride to buy some food for the day,  and when we came out,  their support van/trailer was set up in the parking lot with a table full of goodies all set up--for them but not for us, I divined from the way their support crew eyed us scroungers.

Second lesson--Dad isn't always right.  He assured me, the other day, that Louisiana is flat as can be.   Not true in these parts.   We rode across the Tunica hills, or at least, some of them,  for at least forty miles.   They aren't all that steep or long,  and they're puny compared to Texas hill country,  but they are most definitely out there and create lots of additional work, especially with our ubiquitous headwind.   But the forests do make a dandy windbreak sometimes--except where they've been clearcut, which is often the case.  This is serious lumbering country.   They do replant, but saplings just don't block much breeze.

We lucked into a bicycling dentist when we got to Franklinton,  Rob Brown,  who told us the name of the Tunica hills and added that we've not seen the last of them.   Rob pointed us to the best motel and yet another great Mexican restaurant too.   And he told us that Louisiana just enacted a law requiring motorists to give cyclists at least three feet of clearance when passing.   I hereby challenge my own bickering Michigan legislature to do likewise.   Fat chance...

The last lesson of the day is the most important by far.   Our route took us through what I have to say is the poorest town of the entire trip,  Tangipahoa.   Even tho no dogs--or people--threatened us at all, our initial emotional response was to be scared and want to get outa town ASAP.   But the lesson was to remember that there is no real corelation between poverty and our personal safety as cyclists passing thru.   In fact,  that kind of fear is,  IMHO, the result of propaganda slickly--and slyly--fed to us by the government and especially the mass media in order to foster a generally fearful and therefore malleable populace that will cowtow when told what to do and, when to do it.  Better to believe in the basic goodness and brotherly love of one's fellow man,  especially where, as here,  churches easily outnumber bars 10, even 20 to 1.  Come to think of it,  there wasn't a bar in that town.

Doug.