“One who knows the Mississippi will promptly aver—not aloud, but to himself—that ten thousand River Commissions, with the mines of the world at their back, cannot tame that lawless stream, cannot curb it or confine it, cannot say to it, Go here, or Go there, and make it obey; cannot save a shore which it has sentenced; cannot bar its path with an obstruction which it will not tear down, dance over, and laugh at.”
― Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi
Walking on the levee
New Orleans
“Leaving New Orleans also frightened me considerably. Outside of the city limits the heart of darkness, the true wasteland begins.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
I was walking along the strip of concrete along the top of the Mississippi levee that separates the French Quarter from the vast moisture of the Big Muddy. There was the path, a narrow strip of weedy grass, a band of riparian riprap rock used for erosion control and then the water itself.
I noticed a pile of rock in a peculiar arrangement, down right next to the water. At first I thought someone had simply piled them up, but as I looked closer, it seemed that they would not hold together in that formation by themselves. Gravity would pull them asunder. Someone had gone down there with some industrial adhesive or quick-set epoxy and glued the stones together. It was a sculpture, a work of art.
An Internet search failed to reveal any information about this impromptu pile of granite.
Who knows how long they will hold together under the assault of the elements, but if you want to check – it’s right there near the entrance to Jackson Square.
Riverbank Sculpture, Mississippi River, French Quarter, New Orleans
“Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides… I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming they were a fixed feature in my life’s voyage, I neglected to record their latitude, their longitude, their approach. Young ruddy fool. What wouldn’t I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
Rotterdam Express
Container Ship
New Orleans, Louisiana
Today’s technology – the amount of useless information available at your fingertips is breathtaking. Take this ship I watched sail up the Mississippi – there are a number of websites which will tell me where the ship is at any time. Right now The Rotterdam Express is underway in the North Sea off the coast near Dunkirk.
I might check in from time to time, imagine the adventure.
“One who knows the Mississippi will promptly aver—not aloud, but to himself—that ten thousand River Commissions, with the mines of the world at their back, cannot tame that lawless stream, cannot curb it or confine it, cannot say to it, Go here, or Go there, and make it obey; cannot save a shore which it has sentenced; cannot bar its path with an obstruction which it will not tear down, dance over, and laugh at.”
― Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi
Capt. Bill Slatten
Towboat
Mississippi River
New Orleans, Louisiana
Capt. Billy Slatten towboat information
“Whoo-oop! I’m the old original iron-jawed, brass-mounted, copper-bellied corpse-maker from the wilds of Arkansaw!—Look at me! I’m the man they call Sudden Death and General Desolation! Sired by a hurricane, dam’d by an earthquake, half-brother to the cholera, nearly related to the small-pox on the mother’s side! Look at me! I take nineteen alligators and a bar’l of whiskey for breakfast when I’m in robust health, and a bushel of rattlesnakes and a dead body when I’m ailing! I split the everlasting rocks with my glance, and I squench the thunder when I speak! Whoo-oop! Stand back and give me room according to my strength! Blood’s my natural drink, and the wails of the dying is music to my ear! Cast your eye on me, gentlemen!—and lay low and hold your breath, for I’m bout to turn myself loose!”
― Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi
“I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
― Langston Hughes
Looking up the Mississippi from the French Quarter Levee.
New Orleans, Louisiana
A year ago, for the month of June, I wrote about an online short story each day for the month. It seemed like a good idea at the time. My blog readership fell precipitously and nobody seemed to give a damn about what I was doing – which was a surprising amount of work.
Because of this result, I’m going to do it again this year.
Today’s story, for day Five – A Worn Path, by Eudora Welty.
Read it online, here:
There is a cold in December in Mississippi – a wet cold, a bone cold.
The time is late, too late to do any good, but not too late to go on.
Go on along the worn path. The Natchez trace is a well worn path – well worn but a long hard walk. Along the way you might dance with a scarecrow, fight with a black dog, or see a two headed snake.
And what if you forget why you are walking so far in the first place? You are because you have to.
Five pennies make a nickel, two nickels make a paper pinwheel.
Merry Christmas. There are more important things to do than to go see Santa Claus.
‘Sun so high!’ she cried, leaning back and looking, while the thick tears went over her eyes. ‘The time getting all gone here.’
At the foot of this hill was a place where a log was laid across the creek.
‘Now comes the trial,’ said Phoenix. Putting her right foot out, she mounted the log and shut her eyes. Lifting her skirt, leveling her cane fiercely before her like a festival figure in some parade, she began to march across. Then she opened her eyes and she was safe on the other side.
‘I wasn’t as old as I thought,’ she said.
My Commuter Bike in Audubon Park, New Orleans
(click to enlarge)
I drove to the Big Easy over the weekend to pick up my son Lee (who just graduated from Tulane) and bring him back to Dallas for the holidays. Since I had plenty of room in the car I removed the wheels from my commuter bike and packed it in.
I have always wanted to ride a bicycle in New Orleans and never have. The French Quarter especially is full of folks on bikes (both natives for transportation and tourist rentals for entertainment) and I have always enjoyed hanging outside and watching folks ride by.
Photos I’ve taken of bikes in the city:
Stylish bike rider, French Quarter, New Orleans
Magazine Street, New Orleans
French Quarter, New Orleans
Bicycle, French Quarter, New Orleans
My son lives out by the university and I thought I might ride through the Garden District down to the quarter and back – it would make for a nice long day with plenty of cool places to stop along the way. He was working Sunday and I would have time to myself.
Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate. When I arrived the city was unbearably hot and humid and on the day I had planned on riding a cold front blew in and brought a powerful set of thunderstorms with it.
My commuter bike is set up with fenders and I have rain gear – but this was too much. A good rule of thumb is that when the lightning is so violent the thunder is setting off all the car alarms in the neighborhood every few seconds – it’s storming too much to go out.
This went on all day. When it would lighten up a bit I would think about venturing out – but another band would blow onshore and the skies would open up with a drenching downpour and howling winds. I ended up staying inside all day.
We were going to drive back to Dallas the next day, but he had some things he had to do in the morning so we couldn’t leave early. That gave me time to get in a quick little ride before we left. It was still very cold (for New Orleans), wet, and windy – but bearable, so I headed out.
I rode through the Tulane campus, now empty for the holidays, and up St. Charles for a bit (they have a bike lane along some of the street). St. Charles in New Orleans is the most beautiful street in the world (in my opinion) though the traffic is pretty nasty for a bicycle.
The city has sharrows painted on Nashville so I chose that route down to Magazine Street and rode there for a bit looking at the shops and restaurants before heading over to Audubon Park and circled the zoo down to the Mississippi.
My Bike along the Mississippi, New Orleans
(click to enlarge)
I rode back through the park and the Tulane campus then took a side trip down Freret to cruise through a nice up-and-coming area of shops and restaurants.
That’s about it. It was fun, glad to get it in. Lee warned me the streets were rough and he was right. I’m glad I have a front shock on my commuter bike – the ride was through a constant series of cracks and potholes. As I rode toward the river I thought to myself that it would be uphill coming back – in Dallas the streets slope surprisingly steeply down to the Trinity River – but in New Orleans it isn’t true, of course. That city is about as flat a cycling route you will ever see.
The traffic there is nasty, of course. I’m sure you could get used to it – but it’s pretty tough, even compared to Dallas, which is well known as the least cycle-friendly city. The key is to learn your town, your neighborhood, and your routes – which can’t be done in one cold and blustery morning.
Now I need to go back when the weather is better and do a bit more exploring.
New Orleans
Mississippi River, from the Algiers Ferry, New Orleans
One of the best things to do for free in New Orleans… or anywhere else, is to ride the Algiers Ferry across the Mississippi.
In the middle of the river on the Algiers Ferry.
The ride is free for pedestrians and pooches.
Old Man River, Robert Shoen, New Orleans
Back in 1991, the newest attraction at Woldenberg Park was an 18-foot-high marble statue titled Old Man River located behind Jax Brewery. The sculptor, Robert Schoen, decided to create a monumental male figure with arms stretched up, a stylized human figure made of 17 tons of Carrera marble. The figure’s circular movement seems to convey a harmony between the artwork and its location. The river is connected to the land through the openings of the legs and arms. Old Man River is supported by a twin-tiered base with ridged sides that imitate currents in the Mississippi River.
It has been suggested that the muscular figure is, like the port of New Orleans, cosmopolitan in spirit. Stylistically, the sculpture suggests sources as diverse as streamlined neo-classical statuary of the 1930s and Asian and pre-Columbian art.
“I wanted to make a sculpture that would reflect the river’s embrace of the city,” Schoen said of the statue. “The sculpture is a modern statement with European roots, which is what makes New Orleans unique in America.”
Old Man River
A Man with a Past
Arms reach empty handed,
God to a city in Love
with Water
Robert Schoen
Artist 1991
Bill Chance 