Louisiana has included the names and paths of many of these bayous and creeks on the official state highway map. These waterways' natural beauty, solicit wonder and the desire to solve their mysteries. If I carried a boat, I'd never get home.
I stop on the bridges and peer down their channels, feeling the same drawing power that a road which has not yet been conquered radiates. The next group of pictures will be some of those peerings.
The first bayou is seen shortly after turning onto 565, Bayou Cocodrie. Yes, evidently the namers did not check to see if maybe the name was getting a little worn. I know of at least two others in the state. This one flows north into, you guessed it, Cocodrie Lake, also simularly named elsewhere. So, hunting stories can get blurry as to the exact locations.
"Dat's by Turkey Creek?"
"No, cher, that's the other one."
As it approaches Cocodrie Lake, it becomes known as Bayou Cross Cocodrie. We will actually see Lake Cocodrie later and cross Cross Cocodrie.
One of the exciting things about this ride was being able to tie all this water and all these roads together.
I arrived in Monterey. There was a bank to my left which proclamed this to be "Black River Country". La.565 turns north here with the river, actually the river's cut off lake, appropriately named, Black River Lake. It will be on your left, going north.
I found it hard to get a clear shot of the lake because it is lined with residences. But I did. Do not try to deny me.
Continuing north, you leave the lake and Monterey. After crossing the intersection with La. 906, you will cross Bayou Cross Cocodrie as it prepares to enter the lake. Soon you will see the lake on your left, going north. Notice the pine tree. It is a sign of things to come.
Arriving at Lismore, turn north, still on 565, the Black R. will be on your left. Soon you will be in Wildsville, man. You will have a choice of two gas stations and a manual carwash in which to get wild. Here you join US 84, the Camino Real.
This road goes places. Except for traversing all the large towns which have grown up along its path, it would be quite a ride. Take it west to Jonesville, crossing the Black River. Sorry, I couldn't stop on the bridge to take a shot, so this is a moving picture. Jonesville seems to be a working town. Let's leave it at that in the light of no enlightenment.
After Jonesville, not to be confused with Jonesboro, turn north off of US84 onto La.124. Soon you will cross the Little River. The Little River will be mentioned again as I add to the article. It is another piece of the puzzle. At this point I will say,"It flows into Catahoula Lake, which occupies a large basin just east of Alexandria and is one of those problems Carl so profoundly mentioned".
At this point, let me mention that the Tensas River and the Quachita merge north of Jonesville to form the Black River which eventually joins the Red River which later becomes the Atchafalaya River. I didn't know this, now we both do.
Before getting to Harrisonburg, you will pass two cutoffs (oxbow lakes) of the Quachita River. One is visible from 124. It is Walace Lake and will cost you 3 bucks for an all day pass to launch your boat. The next is Tew Lake. I didn't see it.
The next big water is Bushley Bayou. It has been cut off by the Corp, I bet, from the Quachita. It is large and I'll bet it was important in the flow of things prior to its severance.
Things would change a bit at Harrisonburg. The town, seeing its large courthouse, I would suspect is the parish seat. It is also the border of the Mississippi Valley, I think. You go up a big hill leaving town which does not depict "still in the valley". Stop at the fort (Memorial Dr., on the right going up the hill) for a break. Shamefully, the facilities are not kept up. There is a viewing tower. Go up it at your own risk. I felt rotten wood on the steps. Still it is a quiet, cool, shaded place with picnic tables.
Streams are now being called Creeks. You cross Rawson Creek. This is no creek. This is a lot of water. It flows into the Quachita River.
The next watery vision is the mighty Quachita River. It is the same river as the one in Arkansas, flowing out of the Quachita Mountains, near Mena. Isn't it refreshing that it's not that other Quachita.
Then I saw the sign for the ferry and the road got bad. Expectations were growing, but no ferry. I arrived at Enterprise, no ferry. I left Enterprise, after shooting the neat little post office and evidently the entrance to the home of the owner of Jim Bowie's Relay Station. But, no station.
The thought just came to me. All this water creates the need to explore ways around it or find ways over it. Can you imagine doing this in the Sixteen and Seventeen Hundreds. Oops, I just complained about the road surface. I guess I do "soft exploring". |
