getting there
When taking a bicycle trip, there are a number of ways to get to your starting point, including flying, taking a train, driving, and renting a car.
Flying works if you’re going a long way, but if you choose that route you’ll need to box up your bike. That entails taking off the pedals, handlebars, and front wheels, then securing everything inside a cardboard container that will likely have heavy suitcases thrown on top of it. When you get to your destination airport, you unbox it, reassemble it, and start pedaling from the airport. I’ve done that on all of my West Coast trips and one of my East Coast trips.
You can also take a train, but it costs as much as flying (or more), you still have to box up your bike, and it’s slower than the other two options.
Renting a car works well because you just throw everything into the back and it doesn’t require boxing up your bike. You just drop off the car and leave from there. It’s the easiest option if you’re not going to the other side of the country, but one-way rental is more expensive. Fortunately, because of where I work, I only get charged a few extra dollars for going one way.
Renting a car is what I decided to do for this trip. Weirdly, however, there were absolutely no cars in Iowa available for a one-way rental. I checked every single rental agency in Iowa City, Cedar Rapids, Des Moines, Moline, Dubuque, the Quad Cities… they just weren’t letting any of them leave the state. My workaround was to drive to St. Louis, where I was able to reserve a car from there to New Orleans. Fortunately, I have a friend in SL (Kevin) I was able to stay with for the night and leave my car for a couple of weeks.
I got off work at a reasonable time for a change and was able to leave by 5:15 or so. It’s a 4-hour drive to St. Louis and when I arrived Kevin and his wife, Pamela, took me to a great BBQ place called Sugar Fire. I eat very little meat so when I do go someplace I want it to be delicious, and this place didn’t disappoint.
The next morning Kevin took me to the Hertz rental agency where my car was reserved. The guy talked me into having them fill up the tank for after I drop it off ("It's only $2.30/gallon! You won't find gas that cheap in New Orleans!"). It actually can save me money, but only if I bring it back nearly empty. I was given a Jeep Cherokee, which was nice for the long drive, and very quiet.
It’s a 10-hour drive to New Orleans, not including stops, and by the time I got there it was pretty late. I stayed at the Bienville House, which is just a couple of blocks from tomorrow's starting point of Jackson Square. I paid $40.00 just for parking. On a previous trip I spent half of that amount on a motel room in a small town (okay, so maybe not a nice motel, but still). Clearly, I’m just a cheapskate and should quit whining.
I was fortunate to be able to even get a hotel at all. When I initially started looking, there wasn’t anything available. Hurricane Ida had come through less than two months ago, and all of the rooms (excluding the $400+ ones) were occupied by homeless evacuees and the rescue workers coming to the area to help.
I had received a number of recommendations for restaurants and was looking forward to eating at a couple of them, but I was tired after the long drive and it was already almost 9 PM. Instead, I looked up something close and walked there.
Drago’s was 10 minutes away and I was seated shortly after 9:00. There’s a mask mandate in NOLA, as well as a requirement that you have to show proof of vaccination or a negative PCR test to go to a restaurant.
I ordered the fried gator bites, which were amazingly tender, and charbroiled oysters (their signature dish), which was incredibly buttery. The latter came out sizzling and bubbling. I paired it with a glass of chardonnay.
My hotel room was interesting. It was an inner room and had no windows, making it extremely quiet. No thump, thump, thump of bass speakers as cars drove past, no drunken revelers, no sounds of retching up the vodka from that fishbowl-shaped container. Even straining my ears, the only thing I could hear was my own tinnitus. It was absolutely the quietest hotel I’ve ever been in.
I found the sign in the elevator to be humorous. I appreciate the thought, but the whole elevator was only about 5 feet across. I could stand with my back against one wall and almost touch the other side of the car, so there was no way to socially distance yourself from anyone in there with you.
No riding yet, but looking forward to getting back on the bike.
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