Wednesday, 12 February 2020
When I walked the dogs around sunset last night, I got caught in a hailstorm of Barred Owls. Well, their calls, to be exact. A bunch of them were carrying on all at the same time, and they must have been close by because they were so loud. I heard all the calls the bird book says they can make: who-cooks-for-you and an ascending agitated barking. With several of them going at the same time, it was quite a party. A very loud one.
I saw a couple of types of camper I haven't seen before in this campground. One was a regular camper that sits on the bed of a pickup truck, but this one had an extra pop-up top to make it a little taller. The other was a 5th wheel that looked like all the others, but this one had a screened-in porch that was clearly part of the original structure - this 5th wheel came out of the factory with this porch as part of it. I'm sure the porch folds up flat against the rear when traveling, because the rear of the camper looks like a sliding glass door. Never seen one like it.
The dogs and I walked over to Lake Fausse Pointe (false point) and saw an interpretive sign saying that long ago, this water body was part of the Red River. Probably around 1100 or 1200 AD, a logjam started building up in the part of the Red River in what's now northwestern LA, and eventually grew as long as 165 miles. That logjam created a number of lakes, including Lake Caddo in TX. It also created protection for the Native Caddo Tribe for hundreds of years. Many efforts to clear the jam had been tried and failed. Finally, in 1832 Capt. Henry Shreve figured out how to clear the jam, and by 1838 he and his crew had opened it to navigation. Shreveport is named for him.
One unforeseen result of the cleared river was that sediment once again drifted downstream, creating new land forms. In this area, the sediment created a levee that cut this section of water off from the Red River and created Lake Fausse Pointe. For more information and some nicely hand-colored old photographs of these events, check this link. https://www.invasiveswatch.org/greatraft
 |
| today's route |
Well, I was right - that ghastly road to the campground is paved going north. A vast improvement over that awful dirt road from yesterday. I quickly saw a sign for Iberia Parish, and a quarter-mile later saw a sign for St. Martin Parish. (No wonder LA can't afford to label their rivers and lakes - they've spent their budget labeling their parish boundaries.)
Then I turned left from this nice road to cross some stream or bayou or something and found a one-lane bridge (because of bridge repair), and on the other side saw several pickups pulling boats, presumably heading toward the boat ramp at the state park.
I passed a sign saying I was on the Bayou Teche Byway.
I was heading for St. Martinsville to visit the Longfellow-Evangeline State Historic Site and the giant oak called Evangeline's Tree, both of which arise from the expulsion of Acadians from what's now Nova Scotia. It's Canada's loss and our gain that so many of them settled in Louisiana, creating the Cajun culture that we all enjoy so much now. For some information about how legends are created and how they affect today's life, here are 2 different kinds of links. https://www.lafayettetravel.com/legend-of-evangeline https://solotripsandtips.com/evangeline-oak
The problem is I never made it there. Main Street, which is the road the historic site is on, was blocked by a sign saying "Bridge Out." All traffic was being rerouted, and the way the streets were set up, I couldn't figure out a back door to get around that blockage. I ended up going miles out of the way, and when the detour route finally allowed us to go right, I was already (a) lost and (b) almost to New Iberia, according to the road signs.
The detour route led down a highway that seemed to be going a long way away from where I wanted to go, and although I'm sure there was a turn up the road that would lead back to St. Martinsville, that didn't guarantee I'd be able to find what I was looking for. I sat in a driveway for a few minutes looking at the maps, and finally decided that I'd never been that big a fan of Longfellow in the first place and didn't myself have any personal attachment to Evangeline or her plight. I figured I'd find another museum somewhere that explained about the travails of the Acadians and that this was one site I'd have to miss.
The weather's been so squirrely this year - massive amounts of rain, and the ground's completely soaked so new rainfall's got no place to go but to cause trouble. This bridge I missed was apparently one of the casualties. I guess I was lucky that one-lane bridge earlier was even operational at all.
New Iberia
I came into the area by a route that's on the map, but it's not the one I planned, so I had to drive by guesses and by hope.
I passed a company labeled Iberia Sugar Coop that looked like it was defunct. I looked it up and learned it did indeed close in 2004 after 67 years of operation. Coop authorities attributed the closure to a then-recent Free Trade Agreement that loosened tariff restrictions, allowing sugar from Central America greater access to the US, making it harder for US sugar to compete. According to a newspaper article I saw, they were very anti-free trade agreements and urged others to register disapproval of them. I'm guessing these folks are now big supporters of Pres. Trump.
In New Iberia I passed the First United Methodist Church, which looked very Spanish/Mexican in its architecture and seemed out of place here in Cajun country. This internet photo is fuzzy so you can't really tell that the roof is covered with those red tiles so common in Mexico and the wooden front doors are beautifully carved.
I also passed St. Peter's Catholic Church, which also looks very Spanish but in a different style. Unfortunately, there weren't any internet photos that weren't copyrighted, so you'll have to look it up for yourself. I guess the architecture's not too surprising (though I was surprised) because this town was first settled in 1779 by a batch of folks from Andalusia.
I came to town mainly to take a tour of the Konriko Rice Mill. Their internet site and a large sign in town assured me they had tours of their factory, and online comments said the tour was worth the time. Sadly, I never found it. I turned where their sign said, which was also where my online directions said to turn, and I drove down the street their website said they were on, and I have absolutely no idea where they are. There was nothing anywhere along that street that looked like it was an entrance to anything, let alone a tourist attraction with a parking lot. No parking lots. No signs. Just a long street of very old, dusty, decrepit buildings that looked like they were once factories for something now unknown. I have no idea where I went wrong.
Avery Island
My final destination was the Tabasco plant on Avery Island, and I thought if I couldn't find this place I'd have to believe I'd been caught in the Twilight Zone. But I found it. Actually, it's touted so heavily as a tourist attraction I'd have to have been blind to miss it.
Avery Island isn't really an island, but was called that because early folks thought it looked like one. It's an ancient salt dome, one of about 500 in the Gulf of Mexico area (they're found world-wide). By a geological quirk, petroleum often accumulates around them, and the first salt dome was discovered in 1900 when they were drilling the Spindletop oil well near Beaumont, TX.
To enter the company grounds, you stop at a guard booth on the passenger side of the vehicle; the guard opens his window, gives no instructions but hangs a stick out of the window with a card at the end; I stopped, got out and went over to find out what he wanted me to do, and he criticized me for doing that - said he wanted me to roll down my passenger window so he could poke the stick inside and drop the card on my windshield. I thought a sign with instructions might have been a good idea but wouldn't have wanted to do it even if I'd known, because Dexter was sitting right there and I'm not sure he'd like having a stick pointed right at him through the open window. Weird. Why not put the booth on the driver's side of the road?
The McIlhenny family that own the "island" as well as the Tabasco company knock themselves silly trying to emphasize to visitors their commitment to protecting the environment and that oil drilling, which continues near the salt dome, is being done responsibly.
Near the guard gate is a wetland area heavily patronized by egrets. I took this photo on the way out, to be closer to the birds, though it's still hard to see them.
The factory and the company housing are enclosed inside a dike, presumably because it's all pretty close to the Gulf of Mexico. (These photos all look gloomy because the sky was heavily overcast all day; I've lightened them as much as I can.)
The tour of the Tabasco plant is a self-guided tour (so I thought the $5.50 entrance fee a little steep) and rigidly regulates what folks see, but I was curious and went anyway.
Tabasco® Plant Tour
The company used that ® symbol everywhere but I'm not going to bother. What I'll do is show you what I learned on the tour.
Overview inside the Visitor Center
In most cases, I cut off the title to make the text easier to read, so I've put the titles as captions to each photo.
Then I turned left from this nice road to cross some stream or bayou or something and found a one-lane bridge (because of bridge repair), and on the other side saw several pickups pulling boats, presumably heading toward the boat ramp at the state park.
I passed a sign saying I was on the Bayou Teche Byway.
I was heading for St. Martinsville to visit the Longfellow-Evangeline State Historic Site and the giant oak called Evangeline's Tree, both of which arise from the expulsion of Acadians from what's now Nova Scotia. It's Canada's loss and our gain that so many of them settled in Louisiana, creating the Cajun culture that we all enjoy so much now. For some information about how legends are created and how they affect today's life, here are 2 different kinds of links. https://www.lafayettetravel.com/legend-of-evangeline https://solotripsandtips.com/evangeline-oak
The problem is I never made it there. Main Street, which is the road the historic site is on, was blocked by a sign saying "Bridge Out." All traffic was being rerouted, and the way the streets were set up, I couldn't figure out a back door to get around that blockage. I ended up going miles out of the way, and when the detour route finally allowed us to go right, I was already (a) lost and (b) almost to New Iberia, according to the road signs.
The detour route led down a highway that seemed to be going a long way away from where I wanted to go, and although I'm sure there was a turn up the road that would lead back to St. Martinsville, that didn't guarantee I'd be able to find what I was looking for. I sat in a driveway for a few minutes looking at the maps, and finally decided that I'd never been that big a fan of Longfellow in the first place and didn't myself have any personal attachment to Evangeline or her plight. I figured I'd find another museum somewhere that explained about the travails of the Acadians and that this was one site I'd have to miss.
The weather's been so squirrely this year - massive amounts of rain, and the ground's completely soaked so new rainfall's got no place to go but to cause trouble. This bridge I missed was apparently one of the casualties. I guess I was lucky that one-lane bridge earlier was even operational at all.
New Iberia
I came into the area by a route that's on the map, but it's not the one I planned, so I had to drive by guesses and by hope.
I passed a company labeled Iberia Sugar Coop that looked like it was defunct. I looked it up and learned it did indeed close in 2004 after 67 years of operation. Coop authorities attributed the closure to a then-recent Free Trade Agreement that loosened tariff restrictions, allowing sugar from Central America greater access to the US, making it harder for US sugar to compete. According to a newspaper article I saw, they were very anti-free trade agreements and urged others to register disapproval of them. I'm guessing these folks are now big supporters of Pres. Trump.
 |
| 1st United Methodist Church |
I also passed St. Peter's Catholic Church, which also looks very Spanish but in a different style. Unfortunately, there weren't any internet photos that weren't copyrighted, so you'll have to look it up for yourself. I guess the architecture's not too surprising (though I was surprised) because this town was first settled in 1779 by a batch of folks from Andalusia.
I came to town mainly to take a tour of the Konriko Rice Mill. Their internet site and a large sign in town assured me they had tours of their factory, and online comments said the tour was worth the time. Sadly, I never found it. I turned where their sign said, which was also where my online directions said to turn, and I drove down the street their website said they were on, and I have absolutely no idea where they are. There was nothing anywhere along that street that looked like it was an entrance to anything, let alone a tourist attraction with a parking lot. No parking lots. No signs. Just a long street of very old, dusty, decrepit buildings that looked like they were once factories for something now unknown. I have no idea where I went wrong.
Avery Island
My final destination was the Tabasco plant on Avery Island, and I thought if I couldn't find this place I'd have to believe I'd been caught in the Twilight Zone. But I found it. Actually, it's touted so heavily as a tourist attraction I'd have to have been blind to miss it.
Avery Island isn't really an island, but was called that because early folks thought it looked like one. It's an ancient salt dome, one of about 500 in the Gulf of Mexico area (they're found world-wide). By a geological quirk, petroleum often accumulates around them, and the first salt dome was discovered in 1900 when they were drilling the Spindletop oil well near Beaumont, TX.
To enter the company grounds, you stop at a guard booth on the passenger side of the vehicle; the guard opens his window, gives no instructions but hangs a stick out of the window with a card at the end; I stopped, got out and went over to find out what he wanted me to do, and he criticized me for doing that - said he wanted me to roll down my passenger window so he could poke the stick inside and drop the card on my windshield. I thought a sign with instructions might have been a good idea but wouldn't have wanted to do it even if I'd known, because Dexter was sitting right there and I'm not sure he'd like having a stick pointed right at him through the open window. Weird. Why not put the booth on the driver's side of the road?
The McIlhenny family that own the "island" as well as the Tabasco company knock themselves silly trying to emphasize to visitors their commitment to protecting the environment and that oil drilling, which continues near the salt dome, is being done responsibly.
 |
| that's Dexter's head bottom right |
Near the guard gate is a wetland area heavily patronized by egrets. I took this photo on the way out, to be closer to the birds, though it's still hard to see them.
 |
| company housing |
 |
| dike to the left, factory to the right |
The factory and the company housing are enclosed inside a dike, presumably because it's all pretty close to the Gulf of Mexico. (These photos all look gloomy because the sky was heavily overcast all day; I've lightened them as much as I can.)
The tour of the Tabasco plant is a self-guided tour (so I thought the $5.50 entrance fee a little steep) and rigidly regulates what folks see, but I was curious and went anyway.
Tabasco® Plant Tour
The company used that ® symbol everywhere but I'm not going to bother. What I'll do is show you what I learned on the tour.
Overview inside the Visitor Center
In most cases, I cut off the title to make the text easier to read, so I've put the titles as captions to each photo.
 |
| Edmund McIlhenny |
 |
| Early Years & Competition |
 |
| The Business' Early Years |
 |
| Marketing Tabasco Sauce |
 |
| Bottle & Label Design |
 |
| Bottling, Labeling & Shipping |
 |
| Exports - Global Reach |
 |
| Production |
 |
| The Mash - Barrel Warehouse |
 |
| Mixing & Blending |
 |
| The Island - Origin of the Sauce |
 |
| Early Settlers on the Island |
 |
| Early Island Residents |
 |
| Island Geology |
 |
| Rock Salt & Fossilized Mastodon Tooth (found 1885) |
And to demonstrate the reach of Tabasco products into our lives:
Speaking of the military, they show us these:
I skipped Tour Stop 2 - Greenhouse Peppers - and Tour Stop 3 - Barrel Aging Cooperage - because they were in buildings so far away they were out of sight. I was already tired and didn't want to exhaust myself if the dogs couldn't even come along. I went on to ...
Tour Stop 4 - Blending
Some of this I'd already seen back at the Visitor Center.
 |
| Welcome to Blending |
 |
| under those blue things (left) |
Tour Stop 5 - Avery Island Experience
 |
| model of the "island" |
Tour Stop 6 - Salt Mine Experience
 |
| Salt Dome |
They also had a re-creation of mining in the salt mine.
Tour Stop 7 - Bottling Line
 |
| Green Tabasco to Brazil |
Tour Stop 8 - Food, Flavors, Tabasco Today
 |
| the Swarovski version |
 |
| Tabasco Ad Goes Down In Super Bowl History |
 |
| (I thought Ceviche was the poor man's ceviche) |
And the souvenirs they gave us:
After the tour, I walked the dogs a bit. My brother had warned me that alligators (being part of the natural environment they want to protect) are allowed to wander around anywhere they want, so I was ever mindful of running into one. But the weather was crummy enough that apparently self-respecting alligators were doing something else.
I didn't go on the Jungle Gardens tour of the more natural part of the "island," partly because I was too tired, partly because I didn't want to pay the extra fee, and partly because it was already mid-afternoon and I was an hour away from tonight's campground. Very likely more chance of alligators there (reason #4 for not going). Instead, I headed on down the road again.
On the road
Most of the drive was on U.S. Route 90 and should have been fairly comfortable. But Louisiana just doesn't know how to build roads so that the seams don't turn them into corrugation. It was terribly bumpy, which is hard on all 4 of us. I started to get a headache after a bit of it.
I heard an interview on the radio with the founder of Krewe of Red Beans, which parades on Lundi Gras (the Monday before Mardi Gras). They make bean suits and cover floats with beans - real beans, dried ones of course. Donated by Camellia Beans and glue-gunned on. Their first parade was in 2009, and they've since grown to 3 separate parades in different parts of town (they like to keep them small to feel more neighborly) and then all meet in one location for a joint celebration. Onlookers who aren't members of the krewe have taken to making their own costumes and joining the parades. They now get 10-15,000 spectators.
There are bean-centric pitfalls (their phrase), though: the beans have proven to be attractive to locusts and rats, and one year a heavy rain ruined the displays (don't know if the beans started sprouting). But the krewe members just glue-gun on more beans and keep going. (That's the spirit!)
After more than 20 miles of those Louisiana bumps, I turned onto I-10, which I'd rather avoid but was a still a relief. My next campground is right at one of the exits.
I turned off into Scott, LA - Boudin Capital of the World, they claim - and went on to the KOA for a couple of nights.
No comments:
Post a Comment