Difference between revisions of "2010-10-24 29 -93"

Revision as of 03:35, 6 August 2019

Location

On Hwy 1143 in the far eastern portion of the Port Arthur graticule, amidst southwest Louisiana marshland. This is the depth of "Cajun country". 30 miles southeast of Lake Charles, LA.

As far as I can tell, there are only 4 roads in the Louisiana portion of this graticule. Owing to it being 99% marshland, it is fortunate to have a hashpoint hit one of these few roads.

Cameron Prairie National Wildlife Refuge is a few miles away from the hashpoint.

Participants

Phineas
Margle, Amy
Ralph (the naughty bear)and a cast of cohorts

Plans

This will be a virgin graticule, and fairly difficult to achieve, as there is such a high percetnage of water, wetlands and marshes. There are no towns or villages listed on my map of the Louisiana portion of this graticule. We'll see.

7:00 - Play golf
12:00 - Collect winnings from golf bets
12:20 - Pick up family, possible use of force to coerce teenagers
2:40 - Reach Lake Charles, head onto backroads
3:30 - Arrive at hashpoint
3:33 - Depart hashpoint and return to Cameron Prairie National Wildlife Refuge center.
5:00 - Begin return
5:30 - Buy Andioulle and other cajun meats at first market we find (especially alligator sausage)
8:30 - Arrive home

Expedition

Sweet Success for my first virgin graticule!!!!

A long meandering drive from Houston through Lake Charles LA, then southward toward the hashpoint. A stop at the Cameron Prairie Wildlife Refuge was notable, as were the small dead alligators at the side of the road south of the refuge.

The hashpoint itself was on a rural road, all homes were trailers on blocks, most of which were new. Why? This area, very near Cameron, LA, was the primary landfall entry for Hurricane Rita in 2007. As we drove through Cameron, and were right on the gulf coast highway, there were numerous abandoned / demolished buildings, and also a good number of rebuilt homes and fresh trailer homes.

A quick stop at a local restaurant resulted in a, let's call him an "old boy", but the real local term is "coon-ass", approach me as I walked toward the bar. "Ain't no chillen allaad in heuh". I had my wife and 7 year old with me. I informed him we were just looking for a sandwich, and he backed off, his stare never leaving me. I decided that the sandwiches wouldn't really taste so good at this point, so I made quick small talk with the overweight biker chick working behind the bar, and said we'd be movin' on.

Gorgeous drive along the gulf coast line on the way home.