Riding La.14...Kaplan to Gueydan to Lake Arthur
    It is 8:30 am and I know the air temperature is approaching 70 degrees F. We're international, you know, so I have to put the F. or they'll think we're boiling.  It was warm with a very strong southerly breeze and I was ready to ride. Good thing, because it would take 60 miles before I picked up where I left off writing the La. Highway 14 Chronicles in Kaplan..
   I fueled up in Abbeville and headed down straight road 14 to Kaplan. I did a little once over and decided that I would have to spend time roaming the streets to find anything I hadn't on the last page. I was ready to see new stuff and Gueydan was next. The road is really straight. Really straight. There is not a lot to see unless your are very nosey about people's garages. And there are very few garages. Why did I say that? Guess I am noisy. There are more crawfish ponds and more cattle and more rice fields which were greener than the last time. Actually the levees were greener since clover is grown on them to keep them from eroding. It's pretty and stands out in all the  winter gray.
     Got to Gueydan.  Rode down the main drag. Immediately saw the highlight of the town, at least to me.  I like old buildings. You knew? So the old bank got the first and only shot in town. Gueydan is a working town, like Kaplan. It also is the Duck Capital of Louisiana, in reality, not just some trumped up title. The birds here in January are unbelievable.
License plate on the car sitting in front of the bank.  It was like saying, "I'm from Gueydan".
  Hunting Lodges are an industry down here. Perfect for those individuals and groups who enjoy the comraderie and luxury of "the hunt" handed to them on a silver platter. The damn birds were right next to me on the highway, sitting in a field thinking they had it made, then boom, boom, they all, well almost all, took off. If I shot a shotgun into that cloud of birds, they'd think me "bwana", too. I guess.
   Sport? Not my definition. Louisiana Man feeding his family? Fire away brother and good luck.
That was right on the east side of the Mermentau River.  Remember, that river's from our last, but really the first lesson. I took this holding the camera in my mouth.  Jimi H. would be proud. Notice the thick leafless hardwoods on the bank of the river. Leave it at hardwoods, it's something I've always heard.
  I've taken to going under bridges. Today would not be an exception. This is looking south from the west bank.
  I left the underside (sounds scarry) and got back on the road and veered left and left 14 following the lake which at the bridge the Mermentau had become. Lake Arthur, named for?  These 5 bare Cypress trees got the next bit of film.
   Because.
  Lake Arthur is a very neat old town. I will guess that it was a getaway location for those living further inland. I think I recognized the remnants of an old dance hall which was over the water. That use to be "the thing" since I guess it was free air-conditioning and working up a sweat dancing in the Louisiana heat, it was needed.           Also, I suggest that there was some flirting at the rail overlooking the water lapping away.
    It has a little beach and a really nice city park which we will look at on the next page.
   The house above was right on the water and the neighborhood was full of old Victorians and  little cottages. (Were they camps of the rich in the past?)
Saturday Morning, 1/3/04