Pillar and River Bottoms

“She didn’t need to understand the meaning of life; it was enough to find someone who did, and then fall asleep in his arms and sleep as a child sleeps, knowing that someone stronger than you is protecting you from all evil and all danger”
― Paulo Coelho, Brida

View from the pedestrian bridge down to the Trinity river bottoms, Margaret McDermott Bridge, Dallas, Texas

My Bike on the Bridge

“People will pay any price for motion. They will even work for it. Look at bicycles.”
― William Faulkner, The Reivers

My bike – Vintage 1987 Cannondale ST600 Touring Bike.

On the Margaret McDermott bridge bike/pedestrian path, over the Trinity River, Dallas, Texas

Cannondale 1987 brochure

Pedestrian

“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”
― John Muir, John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir

Margaret McDermott bridge, pedestrian path, Dallas, Texas

French Quarter Mailbox

“Louisiana in September was like an obscene phone call from nature. The air–moist, sultry, secretive, and far from fresh–felt as if it were being exhaled into one’s face. Sometimes it even sounded like heavy breathing. Honeysuckle, swamp flowers, magnolia, and the mystery smell of the river scented the atmosphere, amplifying the intrusion of organic sleaze. It was aphrodisiac and repressive, soft and violent at the same time. In New Orleans, in the French Quarter, miles from the barking lungs of alligators, the air maintained this quality of breath, although here it acquired a tinge of metallic halitosis, due to fumes expelled by tourist buses, trucks delivering Dixie beer, and, on Decatur Street, a mass-transit motor coach named Desire.”

― Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume

Mailbox, French Quarter, New Orleans

Trail on the West Bank Levee

“Just as the Mediterranean separated France from the country Algiers, so did the Mississippi separate New Orleans proper from Algiers Point. The neighborhood had a strange mix. It looked seedier and more laid-back all at the same time. Many artists lived on the peninsula, with greenery everywhere and the most beautiful and exotic plants. The French influence was heavy in Algiers, as if the air above the water had carried as much ambience as it could across to the little neighborhood. There were more dilapidated buildings in the community, but Jackson and Buddy passed homes with completely manicured properties, too, and wild ferns growing out of baskets on the porches, as if they were a part of the architecture. Many of the buildings had rich, ornamental detail, wood trim hand-carved by craftsmen and artisans years ago. The community almost had the look of an ailing beach town on some forgotten coast.”

― Hunter Murphy, Imogene in New Orleans

My Xootr Folding bike on the West Bank Levee Trail

My son lives in a high-rise in downtown New Orleans. He works two blocks away. He doesn’t need a car and has gone without one for several years now.

One reason I drove there was he needed to send a painting back to Dallas, one that barely fit in the back of my Toyota Matrix… I was hoping there would be room back there alongside my Xootr Swift folding bike (there was – no problem).

Lee had to exchange an expensive video game controller at Best Buy and the closest store to where he lived was in Gretna, across the Mississippi on the West Bank. That’s a fifty dollar Uber round-trip so we decided to take my car over there. We could then eat lunch in Gretna after a long run (for him) and bike ride (for me).

I knew there was a nice trail along the top of the Levee from Gretna on past Algiers point. I had ridden the trail two years earlier, during a Writer’s Marathon. That day I had ridden across the river on the Ferry with a group of poets and we wrote poetry in a succession of restaurants and coffee spots in Algiers.

On the way back, I spotted a blue rental bike at the Algiers Point Ferry station – rented it – and rode back and forth along the levee. The only problem was that was July and it was unbelievably hot. I wrote that it was like cycling through a blast furnace.

New Orleans Bike Share Bike along the levee on the West Bank from two years ago.

This was November, though, and the weather was perfect. It was a blast. I cycled down to Algiers point and stopped to take a photo of my folding bike with the river and New Orleans in the background (see top of the entry).

While I was stopped, Lee ran by. We agreed that he would run a bit more then turn around and I’d ride a couple miles to the end of the train and also turn around. That would put us back at the car at about the same time.

My son, Lee running along the West Bank Levee Trail, Algiers Point, New Orleans

The problem was that when I reached what I thought was the end of the trail I discovered a strip of fresh asphalt stretching into the distance. This was brand new trail – and judging by the oil and marking flags it had been laid down less that a week ago.

And that is irresistible to me. Although I knew I should turn around or I would leave Lee waiting at the car (I had the keys) I kept going. And going. And going. I didn’t get to the end before I felt guilty and turned around – but I was close… maybe four more miles. I justified myself by saying, “I know he’s waiting – but over the last almost three decades I have had to wait on him a minute or two.” I ended up riding about fifteen miles – which is a good distance on the inefficient folding bike.

He was hungry and frustrated when I got there – but the restaurant had half-price burgers and cold beer and soon everything was right with the world.

Hard Rock New Orleans Ruins

“The Earth is God’s pinball machine and each quake, tidal wave, flash flood and volcanic eruption is the result of a TILT that occurs when God, cheating, tries to win free games.”

― Tom Robbins, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues

Ruins of the Hard Rock Hotel in New Orleans, over a year after the collapse.

I left my son’s apartment on Poydras Street, downtown New Orleans, and walked to Canal Street on Rampart Street (don’t ask me what direction – the compass is all screwed up in New Orleans – for example the West Bank is actually East of downtown – although it is connected to the Western Half of the United States) I walked up on to the ruins of the Hard Rock Hotel collapse.

It happened over a year ago – a disaster that took the lives of three construction workers – two bodies remained in the wreckage for ten months. It is a giant eyesore right in the heart of the city – a terrible reminder of the fragility of life. I didn’t realize when I read about it that the actual collapse of the steel superstructure was so high up in the air – sitting on top of eight stories or so of concrete floors.

The Google Maps Street View from Canal still shows it pre-collapse.

I walked past on my way to the French Quarter. The locals ignored the now-all-too-familiar sight while tourists gestured and offered up theories and speculation.

Paddlewheeler

“America has only three cities: New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans.

Everywhere else is Cleveland.”

― Tennessee Williams

Paddlewheeler – idled by the virus on the riverfront, New Orleans

After a lot of driving through Texas and Louisiana I’m home again. Working on some writing and some photography.

New Orleans was odd – because of the pandemic – down in the quarter the ratio of crazy street people to visitors was a lot higher than usual. A lot of places are closed. A lot of places that I have loved over the years are no more.

But it is still New Orleans.

A line of paddlewheelers and other tourist transport ships are lined up, empty, unused, along the Mississippi riverfront. It’s sad to see.

I hope they are all moving and crowded again, soon.

From two years ago – Natchez Paddlewheel, New Orleans

On the Balcony

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love!

Oh, that she knew she were!”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Manor House Balcony, downtown Dallas, Texas

I haven’t been anywhere except for work for a long time. I’m sure you all know how frustrating that is.

Last weekend I went on a photowalk (with masks and proper social distancing) with some folks to AT&T Plaza in downtown Dallas. We used to do that all the time, it was an attempt to return to normal… as much as possible. I did enjoy myself.

Now I am going to try and kick it up a notch – go on a road trip. A big gulf coast triangle of driving – Dallas-Houston-New Orleans-Dallas. I’m not sure how much digital access I’ll have, so I’m going to pre-post some blog entries with photos I took on the photowalk to publish while I’m gone.

See y’all on the back side.

Mirrors That Reflect Me

“For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.”

― Vladimir Nabokov

The Media Wall reflected in The Globe, AT&T Discovery District, Dallas, Texas

I haven’t been anywhere except for work for a long time. I’m sure you all know how frustrating that is.

Last weekend I went on a photowalk (with masks and proper social distancing) with some folks to AT&T Plaza in downtown Dallas. We used to do that all the time, it was an attempt to return to normal… as much as possible. I did enjoy myself.

Now, I am going to try and kick it up a notch – go on a road trip. A big gulf coast triangle of driving – Dallas-Houston-New Orleans-Dallas. I’m not sure how much digital access I’ll have, so I’m going to pre-post some blog entries with photos I took on the photowalk to publish while I’m gone.

See y’all on the back side.