Travel Log

Hey gang! I recently completed a drive from San Antonio and Montgomery, Alabama. I kept it simple and stayed on the I-10 all the way to Mobile, Alabama. I followed I-65 straight into Montgomery. 860 miles. Let’s start with a product review. I bought a MP3 converter a few months ago; this wonderful little toy plugs right into my 1 Gigabyte MP3 player and transmits an FM signal. I then tune the radio to the signal, and have access to hours of music I want to listen to. I listened to NPR most of the day.

I generally enjoy driving; however, the first day was the rain the whole day. I stopped in Biloxi, because I couldn’t take one more mile of driving in the damn rain. Before I can move on to the good stuff, I have to mention Houston and Baton Rouge. I know many of you reading this (HA!) probably haven’t been down this I-10 corridor. Let me describe it. It is very crowded with big semi-trucks and goofy southerners. The southerners don’t seem to understand that, generally, the left lane is for passing. When not passing move to right, please. This sounds cliché to complain about, but seriously, Southerners have a problem with this. I-10 takes you through some interesting places and a couple truly great views. I-10 is almost completely lined with trees the whole way. Some people really love this, but I find it can be a bit monotonous (kind of like Nebraska, but without the trains), and it seriously inhibits your view.

Then there is Houston. I think it might be the 4th or 5th most populous city in our country. You never want to go there. I say this based completely on my experiences driving through it on I-10. Apparently, it has been under construction since the beginning of the Interstate Highway system. This makes me wonder about city management, I mean do people in the city of Houston care that driving through their city is stressful, time-wasting miserable experience. Seriously, does Houston care about their image? Based on five trips through the town on I-10, I never want to go there again.

Before we get to the next insult, we come to Louisiana and 18-mile long bridge over the swamp. Before the bridge, there are some farms next to the highway, but they aren’t quite like the field of sorghum or corn in Minnesota. The “farms” are shallow ponds for raising crawfish! I stopped at the Crawfish House in Breaux Bridge. It was some of the best Jambalaya I’ve had (no, I didn’t have crawfish). Anyway, the 18-mile bridge crosses the Atchafalaya Swamp. It’s miles of cypress/mangrove swamp. It just looks like an adventure waiting to happen. This is not where the Ivory Billed Woodpecker was allegedly found, but you can certainly imagine they could be in a place like that swamp. It is really something to see, 18 miles straight on a bridge over the Atchafalaya.

Next on our trip is Baton Rouge; I’ve heard on the radio that Baton Rouge has grown by more 75,000 people since Hurricane Katrina. Story reported that the infrastructure is ill-equipped for this huge influx of people. I hit Baton Rouge at rush hour; I can attest to accuracy of this story. The roads are clogged full of people. So again, Baton Rouge falls into the same category as Houston. A pain in the ass to drive and over crowded; not good, but at least Baton Rouge isn’t to blame. What is Houston’s excuse?

Anyway, I stopped for the night in Biloxi at a motel right across from the Beau Rivage. When I first arrived, long after dark, Biloxi appeared much as it did last time I was there. The Imperial Palace (my home for 4 months of training at Keesler) was standing strong, open for business. The Beau was beautifully landscaped, and it looked like it always did. It didn’t even look new; it just looked normal. It was full of people with more money than brains as always. A quick drive down Highway 90 and I knew something was different. There were no businesses besides casino’s to eat at. Morning brought the full truth to my eyes. The front two blocks facing the Gulf of Mexico have been wiped away. It is amazing and tragic to see with your own eyes. Biloxi was probably my favorite town in the Deep South, now it is a shell of its former self. I saw many signs declaring, “We will rebuild!” Why, so another hurricane can destroy it? Very sad.

Next on the trip is the bridge over the Pascagoula River. Again, my friends up north have probably never seen something quite like this. You drive over a long bridge over a huge salt marsh. This salt marsh/river delta is the brackish no-man’s land between the gulf and the river. I’m not sure what kind of fish or birds you could find in there, but it looks like it would fun to explore. It is awesome to see that much wild land unfold right in front of you. At one point the bridge pops up high to give you and excellent view of the whole delta, but I’ve been driving every single time I’ve been over it. There isn’t a way to stop and enjoy it. If you look at a state map of Mississippi, there is a lot park land and wild land all around southern Mississippi. To bad it is all in Mississippi. (long note: the Internet mapping tools do not show river names, there is a curiously large blank spot on the map where the river is though. There are little country road up to the river delta, then they just disappear, like someone just erased that part of the map.)

Our last interesting stop along the way is over another huge bridge over the confluence of the Mobile and Alabama rivers just north of Mobile, Alabama. There is a very impressive span over the main channel of the Mobile River (I think); except for one factory, the view is southern long-leaf pine trees as far as the eye can see in every direction except south. A quick look at the map reveals more civilization and development than meets the eye, but there is still a lot of wild land there too.

So aside from Houston, Baton Rouge, and retarded southern drivers, a drive through the Deep South is an engaging, interesting affair. A couple of additional observations, we’ve spent a seriously large amount of money on interstate highways through the south. Compare this stretch of I-10 to I-90 through South Dakota and Wyoming; I think we’ve probably spent more money on the bridge over the swamp in Louisiana, than on all of I-90 through Wyoming and South Dakota.

Another point, although I recognize that some habitats, especially more specialized habitats covering small areas, are very endangered, there is a whole bunch of wild places all over our country. I see it every time I hit the road. Yes, it is fragmented, and yes, monoculture agri-business and urban sprawl are gobbling up wild places at a terrifying pace. But I’m happy to report we still have a lot of wild spaces!