Addendum & Louisiana Road Trip
Upon completion of the Trail of Tears Permanent—wait, that’s not quite right. After finishing the Trail of Tears Permanent, no, that’s not right either. Let me start again. Okay, okay, okay, okay, so, after we gave up roughly two-thirds of the way through the Trail of Tears Permanent we went, as one does, to Chattanooga, Tennessee where we slept for the night in an abandoned/converted train station. Which event inspired this lie: “Yeah, so the deal with this hotel is we all get an unlimited pass to ride this trolly car train jammer they have here in town, it goes all over downtown, and it’s free, and you can go to the bars, like it stops at them, like they’re all on this route, and it’s included in the cost of the room, and you can just drink and and ride the train around Chattanooga all night.” Which lie was believed by all that stayed in the van during check-in—which was everyone that came out to Tennessee—and which lie was categorized as disappointing and cruel. Some even called it, and I’m quoting here, “mean-spirited.”
The next morning we drove to Birmingham, Alabama on the way to New Orleans, Louisiana. In Birmingham we found, with the help of a friend of Ty’s who lived in Birmingham (who rode the Great Divide with Ty), a place to eat called Saw’s Barbecue. It’s the best barbecue in the world. It’s a scientific fact. NASA and Aristotle and the Pentagon and Soviet Space Program all agree, Saw’s is the best.
Because the van was already full—Kelli, Ty, Cole, Hahn, Kevin, Daniel—and because we were picking up Moi & His Bike in Louisiana the following morning, and because the van was seriously already really fucking full, what with our bikes and gear and vacation-related sundries, we needed to get a rack. To put the bikes on the “outside” of the vehicle. We had extra wheels and a plan, a bike shop across the street, and a dream, we just needed it to all to come together. Then we went swimming.
If you try really hard, you can, in just one day, in the town of New Orleans, go to the Backstreet Museum in the Tremé where you will learn the difference between the Uptown and Downtown Indians, and about what it means to Dip-in and Dip-out from Sunrise to Sunset, day-time drink, eat beignets on the Mississippi, get a haircut, go on an expensive and disappointing swamp boat tour where your creole Bubba Gump guide will talk to you about the EPA and marshmallows and swamp boat tour-related deaths, eat a Corexit-infused shellfish dinner in a gothic garden outside a hipster winebar, and eat ice cream cones on Bourbon Street while drunks will sexually harass you, a lot.