Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 21, Mile 4076: Between Melpomene and Terpsichore.

Ah, to be greeted at dawn in New Orleans by the Muse Terpsichore, festooned with Mardi Gras beads, blowing a trumpet. Traditionally, it should be a harp, but this is NOLA, baby, where you're nothing without a good horn section!

Terpsichore is the muse of dance and fun (terpos means amusement in Greek), and we are planning on big fun in the Crescent City, cher (which we pronounce "sha" in the Cajun way).

We're in the lower Garden District, a neighborhood a trifle more shabby than the Garden District proper, but full of beautiful oaks and lovely old homes. All the east-west streets here are named after the Greek muses. We're sandwiched between Terpsichore and Melpomene, the muses of dance and tragedy.

I'm sure there's a profound metaphor there.

Here's the B&B where were staying. Funky, but comfortable.

A few images from my morning walk. The park is a block from our B&B.

It's the end of our third week on the road, and our first N'awlins adventure requires us to leave town (as if we haven't done enough driving) on a forty-minute trip over Lake Ponchartrain and into the woodsy bayou country northwest of the city.

We're going on a two-hour Cajun Encounter!

This rusty old drawbridge is the gateway to gator heaven.

We have an Elvis sighting!

Elvis has apparently been reincarnated as a 13-foot, 90-year-old alligator (I don't quite get how that math works out, but that's what our guide, Captain John, told us).

Elvis was only the first of many gators to greet us.

Alligators grow about a foot a year until they're seven, then they grow about an inch a year, so a 15-footer would be 103. A female will lay about 60 eggs and stay with them until the babies are about a week old. Then they're on their own. Very few of the sprats survive to adulthood; egrets, herons, raccoons, and other alligators eat the majority of them.

The gators all know the sound of the boat, and eagerly swim up to gulp down the tasty alligator chow Captain John throws out.

When we first did a swamp tour back in 1989, the guides would put out a stick with a piece of raw chicken impaled upon it, and the gators would leap for the bait. That practice has been banned. 

Here's a picture I took in those more innocent times.

The pellets of alligator chow make for less drama. 

A sedate approach.

A discreet flash of teeth is as exciting as it gets.

Where's mah chow at, cher?

Flashing a little tail.

Plenty of sunken craft on the bayou. The storm surge here from Katrina was 18 feet!

Anybody can build a house boat and launch it into the river. Louisiana has no regulations on building these dwellings, and you can live on the river rent and property tax free! 

Until that storm surge comes along.

There were turtles in abundance.

The forecast was for afternoon thunderstorms, so we worried about getting soaked, but the day only got sunnier.

Snake!

George the bedraggled raccoon heard the boat approach and was waiting patiently for a handout.

He was soon joined by several hungry pals.

This female has learned that looking cute is rewarded.

George will give Captain John a high five for a treat.

Please sir, can I have some more?

The bayou is beautiful--vibrant green studded with bright flowers.

They saved the best for last--a cameo appearance by Kevin Bacon, a female wild pig.

Captain John was her foster parent for a night when she was but a tiny piglet, and he found her alone in a storm. Fortunately, he was able to reunite her with her mother the next day.

But their loving relationship continues.

Goodbye, Kevin. And thanks for all the bacon!

The trees are beautiful even when they're dead.

A red-capped woodpecker drills for insects.

One last alligator shot.

O was craving gumbo and found a little hole-in-the-wall that is reputed to offer some of the best in town.

Luizza's At The Track is very popular, but we were willing to wait for good gumbo.

It was worth the wait. Rich, complex broth, redolent with slow-cooked roux and smoky with andouille. The shrimp are cooked fresh for each order and added at the last minute.

I had a garlic oyster po-boy. The crunch of the toasted garlic bread was an excellent addition to the usual crispy fried oysters.

Luizza's had a couple of big-screen TVs above the bar, both showing Rachel Ray making some kind of sheet pan Korean chicken. Almost every other commercial was an ad for a different personal injury lawyer. 

We've noticed in both Texas and Louisiana a majority of the billboards are also for injury lawyers. 

What gives? Is this a part of the culture of greed and grievance? Are people down here just more careless or accident-prone? Is it a plot by the Deep State?

Fortunately, as we walked back to our car, we saw this sculpted totem that filled us with good juju.

But then again, there was this:

Too many omens, good and ill. Once again we're sandwiched between Melpomene and Terpsichore.

P.