This was spraypainted on a huge rusty oil tank resting on it's side between Highway 82 and the Gulf Shore beach. The road leading into Cameron Parish, LA is barely two lanes and there's not a foot of it not bordered by trash from Hurricane Rita. Complete towns were reduced to foundations in 2005 and are still mostly trashed, with people living in Campers and trailers on leveled lots. It's obvious most of this Parish wasn't insured because ninety percent has not been rebuilt. It's hard not to get emotional riding though miles of peoples lives strewn though water-filled ditches. Everything is out there, from lamps to lawnmowers to the contents of china cabinets.
Rain down here feels like someone turned on a gigantic shower head and then left for a month vacation. It blasts down at full intensity for hours on end, and we just spent the day riding in it.
This isn't anything like the last part of the ride. The scenery alternates between grim and boring and the weather sucks. Like Texas, Louisianans have been kind and welcoming to us, but unlike the West, this isn't a place people go on vacation. Admittedly, the isolated beaches are beautiful. Highway 82 feels more like the frontier than anything out West, probably a combination of the hurricane damage and most of the residents being roughnecks who work the offshore oilrigs. Andrea quickly noticed that she was the only woman on the Cameron Ferry and also in the packed Hurricane Cafe in town, other than the women behind the counter. I don't want to sound ungrateful, Louisiana, but if things don't change, I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible.
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