Vacation Roundup: The Tractor of Bicycles

I just got back from a solo trip to New Orleans, LA. While the original agenda for my week off was to trek to Seattle to visit J's friends and my friend in Eugene, plans changed. Said Eugenian friend was already in New Orleans for the summer—so why not go there?

A big fan of Amtrak and any sort of rail transit, I was determined to incorporate riding the rails in at least one segment of my travel. So last Friday J drove me to Atlanta, where we hung out with his sister and brother-in-law, two cool cats who work at the Georgia Aquarium, and a few of their aquarium friends. I also met an editor at New South Publishing. I'm always eager to talk with editors, writers, publishers and the like about their experiences.

The next morning J took me to the itsy bitsy, teeny tiny Amtrak station, which is right off Peachtree and next to the omnipresent interstate. I was about to bounce out of my seat for about an hour after boarding, with Hank William's "Pan American" rattling around in my head throughout the trip:

I have heard your stories about your fast trains
But now I'll tell you about one all the Southern folks have seen
She's the beauty of the Southlands listen to that whistle scream
It's that Pan American on her way to New Or-leans.

She leaves Cincinnati headin' down that Dixie line
When she passes that Nashville tower you can hear that
whistle whine
Stick your head out the window and feel that southern breeze
your on that Pan American on her way to New Or-leans.

[...] If your ever in the Southlands and want to see the scenes
Just get your self a ticket on that Pan American Queen
Louiville Nashville Montgomery the cap'tal of Ala-bam
You pass right through then all when your New Orleans bound.

The folk, Old Time and country/bluegrass songs about the railroad run deep. Unfortunately, the Pan American Queen no longer exists. No regional passenger rail lines even come though middle and East Tennessee. When I was riding cross country in 2009, my favorites included a version of "The City of New Orleans," as I was riding on Amtrak's City of New Orleans train from Chicago>New Orleans. Other train favorites of mine include Rev. Gary Davis "When the Train Comes Along" and J.J. Cale "Ridin' Home."

If you thought flying could exaserbate emotions and feelings, imagine being rocked to sleep by the rails. The trip is slower, but you get to experience the entire landscape. There is something so natural about riding a train.

Anyway, I digress. I arrived safely in New Orleans, where my friend greeted me with a big hug at the station. We hit a few bars in the Marigny district before collapsing at her friend's house. Sunday was spent watching family cookouts in Audobon Park and sitting on the Fly watching massive ships and tug boats move cargo up and down the Mississippi.

After a night in, I filled my early Monday morning with what else—bicycle hunting!

As noticed in the Marigny district Saturday and Sunday, quite a few folks in New Orleans perfer to cruise—cruisers were everywhere! Dramatic swept-back handlebars and top tubes matched the "relaxed" riding style. I saw many, many riders going the wrong way on one-ways with no helmet or lights. In fact, quite a few of them were talking on the phone, smoking a cigarette or drinking. I was astrounded, if not impressed.

Many cruisers had excellent wire baskets, too, on both the front and back of the bike, though more commonly on the front. Old mountain bikes seemed to have the most, next to women's cruiser bikes. 

After seeing the influx of bar-hopping riders on Saturday, Monday's commuters were a welcome change. Men in dress shirts, pants and shoes buzzed by on their commuter-style bikes. This lady smiled at me on her way to work.

That night I trekked out to Molly's on the Market, a pub on St. Phillip and Decatur that my neighbors, former New Orleans residents, recommended. I said hello to their bartender friend and talked to a fellow about cycling in the city. He was a Seattle native who was testing out his roommate's cruiser for the night. He deemed them the "tractor of bicycles": you're not going anywhere too fast on a cruiser. Many of them happen to be quite heavy, as well, and I spotted some cruisers with seats literally as wide as my office chair at work.

A little cyclo conversation really made my night. Before leaving on my trip, friends can attest to my plan to bring or borrow a bicycle for the occasion. While Amtrak allows passengers to check bikes in a large, purchased cardboard box, it's not the safest or most effective method of transport for a beloved cycle. Especially after driving to Atlanta to catch the train. However, walking proved to be just as pleasurable. And I didn't have to ask for directions in the Quarter on my bike, as two girls asked me Tuesday.

These were a few touring bikes I noticed, and then I saw the folks who appeared to be owners. I should've asked where they were from. Obviously, the panniers and such weren't in tow.

Both friends/hosts in New Orleans didn't have cars. My girlfriend, however, had borrowed her folks' car for the weekend in order for us to more efficiently get around town. Cycling seemed to be the fastest way, though I'm glad I didn't bring my bike. Judging by the amount of seats that had been locked up or removed by owners, safety would have been a major concern.






Maybe next time : )

Next week: Philadelphia!