deep sea fishing rodeo, if ya stop workin', ya die!

November 6, 2008

Day Forty Six

"Anyway, like I was sayin', shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That -that's about it."
- Bubba Gump -

"If I had asked the customer what they wanted, they would’ve said a faster horse."
- Henry Ford -

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We left early enough so that we were able to stop by Jim's office on the way to where he picked me up. He's a Port Captain for NOAA and has a great view of the harbor.

Before we said goodbye I gave him Klaus' email and phone number. Later, I was CC'd on an email inviting Klaus to stay with them. They're really nice people and I enjoyed my stay there, and I'm sure Klaus will as well.

I crossed the border into Alabama this morning.

Of course, I walked across the street and took a picture of the Mississippi sign as well.

This morning I passed through Bayou La Batre (pop 2,558), which is where Bubba is from in the movie Forrest Gump.

I can think of a few people who should be buried here, present company included.

East of Bayou La Batre the temperature dropped by at least five degrees as I approached Mobile Bay. For the first time on this trip I caught the distinct smell of fish in the air - not the rank stench of a rotting carcass left on the side of the road, or the greasy smell of fried fish in a cafe, but the fresh bouquet of marine aromas that can only be experienced with a breeze coming off a large body of water.

Today, of course, it isn't a breeze - it's more of a brisk wind and, of course, it isn't coming from behind me. The headwind is strong, but the temperature is pleasant, in the low 70s, and the traffic if mercifully sparse.

Some pictures along the way...

There are a lot of marshy grasslands around here.

This guy is ready for a flood, even in a mobile home. In case you're looking, the satellite dish is near the street, out of the picture.

Some people were just born to be firefighters.... although, on second thought, he's not likely to be a very good one. Maybe a cake decorator would've been a better career option. Or, perhaps we're looking at "nominative determinism" which was mentioned by Jon Ayling in the forum.

the bridge to Dauphin Island (pop 1,238)

Apparently, on Dauphin Island you can get a condo for your boat.

I started wondering what kind of events they have at the “Deep Sea Fishing Rodeo.” Octopus wrangling? Shark roping? Shrimp wrasslin'? Miss Fish Pageant? (She's beautiful, but cold as a fish)

Before I left this morning Jim recommended that I call the ferry to find out the schedule. It never dawned on me that there might be a schedule. I had naively imagined it to be more of an, "OK! Mark's here.... We can leave now!" kind of operation.

The ferry leaves from Dauphin Island every ninety minutes starting at 8AM. I arrived on Dauphin Island at 1:15 and had just enough time to grab a bite for lunch and ride the final two miles to catch the 2:00 ferry.

Before we departed, one of the crew (the only crew member besides the captain) and I began talking. He turned out to be a school superintendent from Indiana. Upon retirement, he and his wife sold everything they had... house, furniture, cars, everything... and bought a 36-foot RV.

He described their plan to travel all over the country. They had been to Dauphin Island on some vacations in the past, and thought it would be a good location to start their tour of the country. Then he pointed across the street at the RV Park.

"That's mine right there. We're still here."

That was more than three years ago.

He loves his job, ferrying people back and forth all day. He has absolutely no stress in his life and is really happy.

He left to attend to his duties while I enjoyed the gentle lull of the boat as it bobbed its way to Gulf Shores.

In the background you can see they're drilling for gas

There were only two cars on the ferry when it left. An overweight but spry elderly man popped out of one of them like a chick springing from an egg and, after taking a tour of the boat and talking to the retired superintendent, bounded over to me.

His name is William Lipsey, a 76-year-old cotton gin salesman from Mississippi.

Cotton gins?? I hadn’t really thought about cotton gins since I learned about Eli Whitney in school. Has anyone? Of course we still need them, since we still produce cotton, but I assumed it was all done at enormous manufacturing sites. With a little research done later, I learned that I was correct. A modern cotton gin (short for “cotton engine”) weighs 22,000 lbs (10,000 kg), and can process up to 33,000 lbs (15,000 kg) of cotton per hour.

William LOVES working, and practically yelled with delight,

"If ya stop workin', ya die!"

Because his job takes him all over the region, he knows the roads very well. When he found out which cities I planned to go through, he seemed very intent on changing my route and having me pedal along the coast. When I explained about the Adventure Cycling Association maps I’m using he remained unconvinced and continued trying to sell me on the new route.

I finally resorted to nodding…. nodding and smiling, nodding and smiling.

He also told me about some empty RV Parks on the other side of the ferry landing where I could camp.

"The Yankees hain't found 'em yet!" he bubbled.

Eventually, "How old are you?" he asked.

"Fifty."

"FIFTY!" he bellowed. "FIFTY! I had my first heart attack at fifty!" I believed him.

He gazed out over the water for a heartbeat, then, looking back, he pierced me with his gaze.

"Do you know the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but William forged ahead,

"Let me fill your cup from mine today."

He went on to tell me about Jesus, Zacchaeus, Paul, Mary, and several of the disciples. After fifteen minutes he was just getting warmed up when we pulled into the dock and he was asked to get back into his car.

Superintendent on the left, William on the right.

On the eastern side of the ferry there were a gazillion condos and rental houses. (I counted each one to ensure an accurate numbering). I would estimate just under half of them were for sale.

This is a rare section where there aren't many.

There’s a seven-mile bike path which runs along the peninsula, but after about half a mile I got back onto the road because the path was in such bad condition. Roots were pushing up on the concrete, and there was a lot of debris scattered about.

the bike path, before it became non-navigable

I found the bike lane on the road to be much nicer, especially as I got closer to Gulf Shores.

This is much better than the path along the peninsula

and when there wasn't a bike lane there was a shoulder and very little traffic

It's okay to dump your trash on the SIDE of the road, just don't leave it on the road itself.

I stopped for the night in Gulf Shores, though not at the vacant RV Park as William had suggested.

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distance: 64 miles
average speed: 12.9 mph
maximum speed: 27.9 mph
time on the bike: 4:52240:08
cumulative: 2296 miles

Today's ride: 64 miles (103 km)
Total: 2,298 miles (3,698 km)

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