The Road Less Traveled

I've posted about this before.  It's something we do on Saturday afternoon.  We are very simple people and like simple things.  Our little Saturday afternoon excursion is so doggone enjoyable.  Here's what we do.  Long about 5 pm, we jump in the pickup truck, roll down the windows and being riding on country roads.  We don't have any set route or travel plans.  Like Jerry Jeff Walker sings, we just kind of let the truck "wander around."

We do have several rules.  First we listen to old time country or bluegrass music.  We both sing to the top of our lungs, especially to Montgomery Gentry's "Lucky Man" and "Amarillo Sky."  We drive very slow and try not to go over 25 or 30 miles per hour.  Oh from time to time someone will come behind us, but we pull over to the side and let them pass.  We are setting the pace here.

We try our darnedest to not drive on blacktop roads, if at all possible.  We put gravel in our travel.

We observe the sights and sounds around us that busy schedules might cause us to easily overlook.  Last trip we saw a coyote.  This trip we saw a rabbit.  I was telling Tricia about shooting the .22 rifle off the gully bridge at snakes and turtles.  We didn't have the rifle this trip, but we stopped nonetheless and saw an alligator lazily swimming in the muddy water.

Other than killing time, we have no agenda, no timetable, no deadline or due date.  Our destination, however, is Peto's.  Peto's is a gas station that sells, among other things, sausage, specialty meats, boudin, duck quesadillas, fried fish, cracklins and boudin balls.  The boudin balls are either spicy plain or stuffed with jalapenos and cheese.  We grab a couple of boudin balls for the road and eat them in the cab of the pickup.  Boudin balls are a special treat!  Now, it is not healthy - it's boudin (minus the casing) rolled into a ball, battered and deep fried.  Talk about good!

We never take the same road home.  We drive slowly by as the sun descends and see parties and crawfish boils going on at people's homes, kids riding four wheelers in the woods.  The pace of our truck as well as life in the country is slow and easy.  I mention to Tricia that you wouldn't imagine that busy I-10 is only a mile from where we are as the crow flies.  Hank Jr.'s "Family Tradition" comes on the radio and we sing along as we see an old truck in all its rusted glory parked on the side of a homeplace.

We take a turn on Dama Landry Road that we like.  The trees grow to meet one another, making a tunnel that we pass through.  One could easily be fooled into thinking we've stepped back in time.  The road dips down and we pass over flowing water.  

All in all we've made what is normally a ten minute trip last an hour and a half.  As we get ready to turn back into our driveway, the sun is dipping beneath the horizon as God paints the sky a dazzling array of colors.

As we pull into the driveway, my wife says, "What a great afternoon.  This is my favorite thing to do."  I must say I agree.  If you have a country road nearby, I highly recommend going out and letting your truck wander around on it.  There are adventures to be enjoyed by simple folk on the road less traveled.

Put A Little Gravel in Your Travel

On late afternoons/early evenings in the summer, Tricia glances out of the kitchen window and sees the sun casting long shadows.  That is a 'bat signal' for us to take a "Sunday Stroll" even though it is not Sunday.  We jump in the car and drive westward for about a mile.  One left turn puts us on gravel roads for as far as the eye can see.  You can see what I'm talking about in the photo below if you look in the passenger side mirror.

The gravel makes a crunching sound under the car tires and the dust kicks up billows that trail behind the car as we drive out in the countryside.  We pass no traffic.  It is quiet.  There are rice fields on either side of the road.

We take in the sights and sounds.  We pass a (relatively) ancient farm implement on a turnrow.  I explain to Tricia and Benjamin what it is.  This contraption was a levee packer.  Once levees in rice fields were pulled up, you'd pull this on top of the levee to pack it down.  It is made of solid concrete, shaped like an hour glass.  This thing hasn't been used for quite some time.  It will likely hold down this spot until Jesus returns, biding its time, watching, if it could, changes taking place in the surrounding landscape.

A snake slithers stealthily across the road.  I speed up and run over it, but it is not affected and continues on its belly until it reaches the ditch.  Water is gushing out of a drop pipe as water is being turned loose from surrounding crawfish ponds.  Crawfish season is coming to an end.  Egrets and shore birds scavenge the pond bottoms for aquatic snacks that have been exposed as the water level drops.

We continue westward for a few miles as we sing along to old country music and come upon a field of recently baled hay, reminding us that we'll soon be putting hay up in our hay loft - a truly hot job!

The hay will soon be picked up and arranged in rows along the fence row to allow for fresh growth and another cutting or two of hay before dormancy.

Soon we turn left on the Roanoke Highway.  It is a blacktop road, smooth and quiet.  It leads us to the pot of gold at the end of our rainbow.  We always end up at a gas station that sells BOUDIN BALLS.  It is a concoction of boudin stuffing, rolled in batter and deep fried.  There should be a 12 step program to help you get off these things.

We spread out napkins on our laps and feast as we slowly start our 5 mile trip back home, retracing our steps on the gravel road.  The boudin balls hit the spot!

We head back to the homestead just as the sun finds its way back home beneath the western horizon.

Nothing like a peaceful, pastoral, afternoon drive - away from civilization, almost stepping back in time in the countryside.  A simple afternoon with simple pleasures for a simple man.

A Friday Afternoon Treat

Most of the time, we like to eat homegrown food raised right here on Our Maker's Acres Family Farm.  It is good stuff and we enjoy growing it and cooking it and especially eating it.  On some Fridays, however, we bend the rules a little bit.  Our family jumps in the car and heads due west.  The paved road soon turns to a gravel road and the dust billows up in big clouds behind us, making me glad that the car hasn't been recently washed.  We slow down as a mama duck and her ducklings cross the road and enter a ditch and hide in the grass.

We drive over the small bridge that brings us over Bayou Chene.  A family is standing on the edge of the bridge peering into the water below.  Several young boys take aim with their BB guns at a turtle or a stump or perhaps a snake.  We wave and continue westward, coming to a stop sign where the washboard road makes us bounce a bit.   After a minute or two, we turn onto a paved road and drive due south for about 3 miles, reaching our destination.

We get out of the car and go inside.  Right behind the glass case under a heat lamp, we see our prize - Boudin Balls!  Boudin that has been battered and deep fried!  Sometimes we get the plain spicy boudin balls.  Other times we get the boudin balls stuffed with jalapenos and cheese!

We climb back inside the car with the box of boudin balls and dole out napkins for everyone.  We can never wait until we get home to eat them.  Boudin balls are quite tricky to eat in the car.  As you bite into them, the napkin doesn't quite catch the pieces of rice and meat that fall onto your shirt and into the cracks of the car seat. 

We drive back home full of boudin and turn back in our driveway.  The sun is now setting as we disembark.  It is a nice little treat that we enjoy.  Boudin balls are hard to beat!