Poor Old Louisiana

We traveled south from Natchez on Rt. 61, which runs parallel to the Mississippi River, and then west on Rt. 190 rather than cope with the aftermath of Hurricane Rita on I-10. The surface of our road was decent, but the damage to homes and the terrain in Rita's angry wake a few months ago was significant and ugly. There were virtually no campgrounds left standing, and the few that were operative had been converted to FEMA trailer courts for displaced families. There was no scenery that warranted taking time for photos. Junk cars in yards were in abundance and reminded us of the poorest areas of WV and Eastern KY. The homes untouched by the storm were mostly double-wides that probably had needed repairs even prior to Rita's wrath. All of that was in sharp contrast to Nachez, which we had just left.

We traveled south from Natchez on Rt. 61, which runs parallel just east of the Mississippi. Then we turned west on Rt. 190 rather than cope with the aftermath of Hurricane Rita on I-10 to our south. The surface of our road was decent, but the damage to homes and the terrain left in Rita's angry wake a few months ago was significant and ugly. There were virtually no campgrounds left standing, and the few that were operative had been converted to FEMA trailer courts for families displaced by Rita. There was no scenery that warranted stopping to take pictures. Junk cars in yards were in abundance and reminded us of the poorest areas of WV and Eastern KY. The homes untouched by the storm were mostly double-wides that probably had needed repairs even prior to Rita's wrath. All of that was in sharp contrast to Nachez, which we had left that morning.

The reason we were traveling in that stark, desolate area is because we were on an important mission. Our back seats were folded down, and our GMC Yukon was filled to the rooftop with our own stuff plus donated supplies from our church in Virginia. The goods, intended for the victims of Sabine Pass, TX, included everything from baby food to diapers to wet vacs. Sabine is the hometown of one of our church members and is located on the LA-TX border (Gulf of Mexico) in refinery country. It had been nearly wiped out by Rita, but the people had been evacuated prior to the big hit.

We finally found a place to stay in a rundown, combination motel-truck stop just before the Texas line. Even though it was dark, the friendly owner stayed open for us and provided a site with full hookups for our rig. She also invited us to use the laundry. Our dirty clothes were a big priority, since we knew that there would be no laundrys or campgrounds in Sabine Pass. It wasn't the Ritz, but we were grateful for the convenience of our site.