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Sunday, July 24, 2016

Number 5 ... Day 2


A  "followup ride" is always hard to get started, much like this report of it.
On a first day, knowing that you'll have a second day, you can paint with a wide brush and tell yourself you can come back and fill what you missed. That never happens. It wouldn't again.
The upside of disposing of old business is disposing of old business and being happy about what it produced.
I was happy about the GMO rail find and seeing an Illinois Central engine but remembered I may have seen one north of Montpelier long ago. I will find that picture if I can.  I know I used it in one of my more recent ride reports.  Stressing my memory always slows down an introduction. Let's move on.
The teal colored line is more or less the route. 
I went to Roseland and then north.
At Tangipahoa I went east giving up on any activity on the paralleling rails.
 
I meandered until I got to "so pretty" I had to stop and take it in. I did not see the big water to my left. How can I find a 8 foot piece of rail stuck in ancient blactop and not see big water? It makes me wonder what else I missed. You can't tell me to slow down, I was stopped.
Next I got directions to Physical Tranquility.  An option for Mental Tranquility was not offered.
Possibly that is your own responsibility. Dang, that will take some doing.
 On queue the Sunnyville church appeared.
 That made me hungry. Unfortunately Country Delite was not open. 
Possibly the weight of the spelling of "delight" was missed.
 I had to check out the pump prices. I remember that kind of pump from the 1960's.
 The prices were pre-Obama.  
Remember the signs "Add a dollar" when the old pumps could not fathom gas in the 3 digit realm?
 Graveling was good today. Gravel riding requires a lot of "Butt English". If you don't understand the concept ... OK, I'll give it a try. You squirm to keep the motorcycle upright, balanced and heading in the right direction while riding on large malformed marbles. That is done by slight shifts in weight. The shifting occurs on the seat if you do not stand up all the time like dirt riders that want to look like their concept of professional racers. Professional racers use Butt English or at least that is what I see Carmical doing unless he's in the air adjusting landing angle. I hope not to ever be adjusting landing angle.
 I was trying to get to Angie. I had to check out the old GMO coming out of Bogalusa. I got turned a little wrong and ended up crossing the line. I reversed in a blur.
 The Thomas Store, like the store in Warrenton, is an old memory.
 Across the street was this  place.
 An Angie I crossed the tracks and tried a new angle at the old depot and caboose.
 The depot siding  was still in use.  "Illinois Central Gulf" was a transitional name used after the Gulf Mobile and Ohio was absorbed by the Illinois Central. That statement may or may not be exact.
 Hope of a train passing was hopeless. But, three work cars of the Canadian National did show  up. 
Had they driven from Ottawa?
 I though I'd get to chase them. No. They stopped just down the line.
 At Varnado this old building and another are about it for historical buildings that I saw.
 I'm guessing that is where the depot was.
 This building, though "modernized", is old. Was it a "service station"? I'll bet on it.
 Heading toward Bogalusa the rails cross La.21 above town.
 I got off the highway and followed them.
 The route of the GMO has one great trestle after another. The line followed the Pearl River. Doing so avoided the hills to the west but exposed it to having to cross one western drainage system after another as they tried to find the Pearl. Bogalusa has some great ones.
 
 And here's the big one at the mill. Imagine being in a engine crossing these ancient trestles. 
I wonder if the engineer uses "Butt English".
 I stopped by the depot and warehouse. I sat on the warehouse steps, cooled off, drank a pop and ate a granola bar and thought about how all this history was going to dust.
 
 I love this stain glass. I was surprised to see it not broken.
 
 Shooting across the trestles into the mill.
 Shooting back north. Are those bells on the top of the warning lights?
 At the mill I looked for anything. 
I did not go farther south as my clock was ticking and I was getting ticked off about that.
 Leaving. I was worried but reminded quickly that Louisiana is a small state.
 Going up the hill out of the Pearl Valley is impressive. The view from up there is spectacular.
I was soon  back in Franklinton, scene of yesterday's washout. The hump of the old GMO,  RIO to Tylertown route,  was ahead.  Mentally it was over. I had to tuck in and get back to base camp.
 Driving back home I went by Livonia.  
I didn't like the obstructive picture framing  but the AC and the Allman Bros were pretty nice. 
By the way, "Jessica"  is the ultimate riding tune.
That's all folks.

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