Boudin? Bo Dan?

"Yeah, you need to have that," said the guy in line behind me in the checkout line at a gas station off I-10 near Lafayette, Louisiana in response to my question about what a boudin was because a sign was offering three for $1.89.

A boudin, pronounced bo dan, is a Cajun dish consisting of dirty rice either fried (as in the photo) or in a sausage casing. The things seem to be a snack staple of Cajun country. Across the street from the gas station where I first encountered the delicacy there was a shack resembling a traditional South Carolina barbeque joint, and the sign on the building read "boudin to go." At the Roanoke One Stop in Roanoke, LA, where I parked my bike under a shed waiting out a thunderstorm, I was introduced to a boudin that resembled a link sausage. And, after eating a boudin in a link sausage format (I couldn't tell whether I was to eat the casing or not) I waited out the storm by taking a nap leaning against a stack of old car tires. Long distance motorcycling requires the ability to sleep for short periods of time in any circumstance.

The encased boudin reminded me of white sausages that are popular morning coffee break fare among blue collar workers in Munich. I think I like the fried ball better, but that may be on account of their resemblance to hush puppies.

Not knowing whether to eat the casing got me thinking about my friend and recently retired journalism professor Kent Sidel. Some years ago Kent, Erik Collins of the J-School, Bill Rogers of the S.C. Press Association and I went with then journalism dean Judy Turk to Hong Kong to conduct a series of discussions on the shape of the press after the territory reverted to the People's Republic of China. On our first day in Hong Kong Kent and I went to brunch at our hotel (the YMCA). We selected an item that looked to us to be stuffed grape leaves, a Greek traditional dish. We ate the things leaves and all even though in texture and taste the leaves reminded us of Kudzu. We found out later that most people didn't eat the leaves as they tended to cause indigestion.

Riding through Louisiana provided a contrast to the panhandle of Florida. There were still signs of Katrina devastation and recovery. Downed trees and billboards. FEMA trailer parks, closed businesses and camp grounds for contractors and their work crews in trailers and recreational vehicles. And, as good as I-10 was in Florida it was just as bad in Louisiana. Much of the highway was undergoing resurfacing and widening. At one point traffic in both westbound lanes came to a near standstill because two miles ahead the lanes had to merge to a single lane through a construction site. Rather than drive to the merge point and alternate lanes sending a car forward traffic stopped while people tried to merge two miles early.

I sat in the stalled traffic until my engine began to get hot, a problem with an air-cooled motorcycle standing still, and then decided that the prudent thing was to ride to the front of the line so I could keep moving. I tried not to be obnoxious about the move, and was careful to ride at a sedate pace so as not to incite someone waiting in line who happened to be armed and angry. Once I got within a half mile of the merge point the right lane was completely open because everyone was fighting for a position in line earlier. I got the bike moving, I wasn't any longer stuck in traffic, and I didn't get shot. Success on several fronts.

While in the traffic I did notice that a great many cars in Louisiana have cracked windshields. I'm guessing the damage is a consequence of a hurricane, but figured they hadn't been repaired because replacing a cracked but intact windshield has a much lower priority after a hurricane than it might have if your windshield were cracked because a rock fell from the truck ahead of you on the road.

I made it to Austin this afternoon, but not in time to get my bike to Lone Star BMW-Triumph for service. Thunderstorms west of Lafayette, LA and in Beaumont forced me off the road to wait out the storms, and traffic at the construction site in Louisiana and around the Houston beltway slowed my progress. I'll take the bike in the morning for routine service and new tires. I could probably ride as far as Seattle on the tires I have on the bike, but neither my sister Mary nor her husband Ken plays golf. Ray plays golf. So, the bike gets serviced Wednesday and Ray and I play golf.

Many of the people I meet on the trip want to talk about my motorcycle or motorcycles in general. Most ask what I am up to, and when I tell them, they say, "Gosh, I've always wanted to do something like that."

Well, life lesson number one: If you've always wanted to do it, and can figure out a way to do it, go do it. During the Vietnam war Ray was an airborne ranger, pathfinder, Green Beret and decorated helicopter pilot. He frequently says, "Life is uncertain, eat dessert first." Good advice.

While stopped for gas and a cold drink between Houston and Austin (on A.J. Foyt Boulevard, no less) I met Mark Hooper who owns Hydro Services. Mark's company uses high pressure water to clean sewers and drains. Mark has a son moving back to Texas from the west coast, so Mark is going to ride his 1300 c.c. (a big honker) Honda cruiser to California to help his son get moved. Mark will come back with the household furnishings and ship his bike back. To me it looks like Mark is making the most of a slice of opportunity affiliated with a helping hand for a child to do something he has been wanting to do. Have a good ride, Mark.