Eight miles later, in Sugartown, I refilled my water bottles again. I also poured water on my head and neck. It’s another scorcher. A hot day along the Gulf Coast in late July?  What a shocker.

I passed the Welcome Pentecostal Church, which I thought was an interesting name…. you know, as opposed to that church down the road, the Unwelcome Pentecostal Church, where people sit around inside saying to each other, “I wonder why we can’t get any visitors??”

My plan was to ride through DeRidder, but in Sugartown I saw a sign that said “Dry Creek Baptist Encampment  12 miles.”  The church camp I’d stayed at in Missouri had been very welcoming (even without having the name Welcome Camp), and I wondered if this place might have an extra bunk, so I continued south instead.

I just showed up uninvited, but Mac Sharp and Phil Morris greeted me, brought me a large, cold Pepsi, then ushered me to the pool where I was truly able to cool off. After the refreshing dip, I talked to the Camp Director, Mr. Hagan, about spending the night and was relieved when he agreed. Since I had no real skills with which to repay my night’s stay (although I had become a halfway decent roofer on this trip) I tried to find things to do around the camp….  sweeping, picking up trash, washing dishes, etc.

Once settled, I pulled out my tent to let it dry on a picnic table, then brought it inside after about ten minutes because it still wasn’t drying out, and because it looked like it was about to rain. Keep in mind this was an old tent in 1982, and not one made of the thin, fast-drying technical materials tents are made with today. About ten minutes after I brought it inside, the heavens opened and it started raining again.

Something I couldn’t easily do in 1982, I reviewed the rainfall averages for Alexandria. It appears that I pedaled through the region during the second-wettest month, and that the odds of it raining were a hair under 50% every day.