New Orleans, LA. 9174 miles.

After waking up later than I would like to in Nachitoches, I headed down south through some back woods roads looking for old plantations. I didn’t really find what I was looking for, but the cyprus trees were thick and the road was COUNTRY. The farm land out there is impressive. I would have taken more pictures but storm clouds were rolling in and I was pretty sure I could beat them.

From there the ride was almost all I-49 and as boring as you can imagine. At some point I will do a scientific study of cager driving and confirm my hypothesis that at least 75% of them are on their cell phones at any given moment. Louisiana officially wins the prize for worst drivers and it’s not even close. Passing through Lafayette I saw three very bad accidents that had all happened just moments before I came by. The roads were bumpy and awful and the place was a hole. I couldn’t wait to get through it.

I took the “scenic” southern route into New Orleans across RT 90 which looked on the map to be an interesting ride across the archipelagos and bayou country. It was not. Just a long, traffic filled burn across what might as well have been the interstate, there was almost nothing to see for 100 miles except more horrible Louisiana drivers. It did have the benefit of taking me around a massive storm that had just passed through Lafayette before I got there and was heading east right along I-10. There was another huge storm system just to the south and I rode the whole morning in a tiny sliver of blue sky separating the two that creeped just along 90. It was the same up north and somehow I didn’t get a drop of rain on me all day. I am not a spiritual person, but I have taken to talking to the motorcycle gods on this trip and when you see things like that it’s hard not to think they’re listening to you.

After some horrible traffic coming into the city (another ridiculous wreck blocking the entire interstate) I finally found myself in New Orleans. I parked the bike at the hotel and headed into the French Quarter. 30 seconds after I walked into a po-boy shop the skies opened up in a torrential downpour. Again, all I could think of was the motorcycle gods. For once I was in exactly the right place in the world to wait out a storm. The rain lasted exactly as long as it took me to eat a fried shrimp po-boy and I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering aimlessly up and down the streets of the FQ. As much of a tourist nightmare as it is, and as many frat boys and bachelorette parties as it contains, I can’t think of a better place to spend a muggy Saturday afternoon. Somewhere off Bourbon Street with its t-shirt shops and hurricane stands is one of the most singular places in the entire world. Drop into a bar, grab a beer to go, sweat it all out on the way to the next one, rinse and repeat. I defy anyone to walk these streets without a grin on their face. I met some great locals who told me the right places off the tourist strips for jambalaya and jazz and the night slowly turned into an amazing boozy blur.

I haven’t had more fun on this entire trip than I did here. So much so that I decided to stay an extra day and do the exact same thing again. I might find it in myself to get on the bike and explore some other parts of the city, but somehow I doubt that. The FQ is just a place you don’t want to leave. After this is a quick trip down to Key West but really New Orleans is the last stop before my real final leg home. I’m not all that eager to get that started. So one more day of road living it is.

Wyatt Neumann was a phenomenally talented photographer and director, a loving husband and father, and a passionate motorcyclist. On June 11th he was doing what he loved riding in Delaware when he suffered a brain aneurysm which caused him to lose control of his motorcycle. He died shortly after. Wyatt was instrumental in both inspiring this trip and planning many of its routes and logistics. The title of this site was unapologetically stolen from his series of photographs from his own travels. He leaves behind a wife and two young children. A memorial fund has been established to help his family in this very trying time. Please consider donating. Any amount will help. Thank you.