Mardi Gras

It was a long time ago, 1979, I think. I rode a new Harley-Davidson to New Orleans, Louisiana intending to enjoy Mardi Gras for a few days before making my way to California and back. It was raining when I left Greensboro, North Carolina but I rode on.

I had no place to stay while I was in New Orleans (no rooms at the inn) so I slept chained to my motorcycle on the sidewalks. I got drunk but I didn't have much fun as it rained the whole time I was there.

I continued to Houston to the Greyhound Bus Terminal where I picked-up a package I'd sent to myself before left home. Dry clothes, food, motor oil and a bottle of George Dickle. I spent the night in a cheap motel, put my wet clothes in the box and shipped them home.

It had rained every day since I began my trip and was still raining when I left home. I hadn't been completely dry more than a few minutes in over a week. I decided to ride back to North Carolina and forget California.

It rained all the way home.