Saturday Summary - Week 11 - Jan 10th - Jan 16th - Seasoned, Slow and Satisfying

Waveland, MS (70’s) → Kiln, MS (70’s)  → Baton Rough, LA (60’s) → LaFayette, LA (50’s) | Jan 10th - Jan 16th

This week felt like a true reset, as we finally moved again after the holidays and settled back into the rhythm of road days, campground conversations, bike rides, and unexpected connections. We met generous strangers, reconnected with familiar faces, rode our bikes a lot, and ate very well.

Waveland & Kiln, Mississippi

We returned to the Gulf, this time on the Mississippi side. The campground itself wasn’t as polished as Gulf Shores, but the people more than made up for it. Alabama had felt quiet and reserved—almost retirement-community quiet—where everyone kept to themselves. Mississippi was the opposite. Nearly everyone who walked by stopped to chat, share stories, and offer suggestions.

The standout was George, a 78-year-old sailor from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. He gifted us half a pound of shrimp because he’d bought too many, along with a handmade shrimp deveiner fashioned from a fork. Completely impractical for bus life. Completely impossible to refuse. George has sailed for years, told incredible stories, and casually mentioned that he’s preparing to bike around Norway. Icon behavior.

One evening, we walked (not biked) to a nearby dive bar about a mile and a half away—easy enough, but pitch dark. The bar was exactly what you’d expect: a true dive. I was uncomfortable at first, but no one paid us much attention. Don struck up a conversation with a woman who harvests mushrooms locally, and we ended up staying longer than planned, talking about foraging, life, and lost dogs.

The next day, we biked into Bay St. Louis. I had spotted a Dolly Parton look-alike contest on the tourism page and was determined to see it. We did a little shopping, then had an incredible lunch—based on a local recommendation—at The Blind Tiger, eating Ruby Red Shrimp while overlooking the marina. It was the perfect Gulf of Mexico scene: epic and truly memorable.

We started the Kuhl Call from a local bar, and thanks to Don asking, an entire group of Dollys waved and said hello to my family mid-call—easily a highlight.

The “tallest hair” contest delivered. I made a couple of Dolly friends and couldn’t help thinking: if everyone who dressed like Dolly also lived like Dolly—kind, generous, unapologetically themselves—the world would be a much better place.

That evening, after showers (important detail), we met Brandon, one of Don’s colleagues, and his wife Katie for dinner in Picayune. Wonderful people. They sent us off with spicy pickles (for me) and King Cake (for Don). Food was good; company was better.

The next morning, Don spent time with Brandon at his office while I took Lucky to the vet. Heartworm prevention is no joke in the South (explained to us by Katie), and since Lucky hadn’t been tested, we squeezed in an appointment. The staff was kind, efficient, and had us in and out quickly—one of those quiet wins on the road.

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

We moved on to Baton Rouge and landed at a horse activity center. We seem to gravitate toward horse properties. This one wasn’t our favorite—wide open, few trees, not much happening—so we shortened our stay.

I biked the levee trail along the Mississippi River. The trail itself was smooth and well done, though seeing the river was oddly anticlimactic; I think I’d built it up too much in my head. I plotted two points of interest: the Sing the River sculpture and a Baton Rouge mural tucked into a neighborhood. Both were worth the ride.

Once off the trail, biking got dicey: rough roads and no bike lanes. I rode through LSU and straight to the dentist. A loose crown had been bothering me since before Scotland, but there was no way I was risking that trip. This was the first real opportunity to deal with it. The dentist was wonderful; the crown survived. Lucky had a vet visit one day, I had a dentist visit the next. Hopefully, we’re both all set and healthy again.

We biked to Chimes for dinner that night, right near LSU, and the riding was much better than earlier. The next morning, Don ran a 5K and I walked one on the levee trail.

Before leaving town, we stopped for lunch at Bellue’s Fine Cajun Cuisine, recommended by one of Don’s colleagues. Parking was questionable, the neighborhood unassuming, and the food unforgettable. The owner, Wirt, welcomed us like old friends when he heard who sent us. We stocked up on gumbo and boudin—my first time trying it. I almost didn’t ask what was in it, just in case. Turns out: pork, rice, seasoning. I’m a fan.

The drive out of Baton Rouge took us over the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge—18 miles of water, swamp, and sky. Completely mesmerizing. This was truly one of the most memorable drives I’ve ever done. The camp host later confirmed: stunning when traffic is moving; brutal when it’s not.

Lafayette, Louisiana

Acadiana Park Campground was lively—lots of families, a great nature center, and beautiful boardwalk trails. It also had…surprises. Frequent police presence, surveillance equipment mounted on posts, and stainless steel, no-seat bathrooms that felt more institutional than expected. Still, the setting itself was lovely.

I biked into downtown Lafayette the next morning to test whether it was safe enough for a dinner ride. The answer was no—rough roads again—but the walk downtown made up for it. My favorite moment was watching a massive mural come together: painters on lifts, on the ground, and one wielding the longest paint roller extension I’ve ever seen.

That night, we headed to Adopted Dog Brewery. We shared a smashburger, enjoyed beers and live music, and watched dogs everywhere. A perfect low-key ending to a week that finally felt like movement again.