Baton Rouge Round Two


Louisiana was proving to be a state of surprises and contrasts. Human-made refineries amid raw, natural wetlands; the humblest of homes just steps from mini-mansions; and, as we meandered its riverside roads, the undeniable elegance of antebellum plantations, timeless and serene and evoking a certain nostalgia even though neither one of us ever lived that life, but with the specter of their past impossible not to feel.

We’ve seen several plantations that still stand in Georgia, so we were eager to see how Louisiana’s compared. With that goal in mind, each time we toured within Baton Rouge and beyond its borders we looked for plantation homes. Some remain private residences, and some are open for tours or function as B&Bs.


Carter Plantation is a bit of an anomaly. It now sits in the middle of an upscale residential community, and while it would have been considered a relatively large home in the 1800s, it’s fairly small by today’s standards, and certainly in comparison to its immediate neighbors. But it boasts the status of being on the National Register of Historic Places, and is set apart from other plantations because it’s the first in the county to be owned by a free “person of color,” African-American Thomas Freeman. Freeman and his slaves (!) worked its 2,000 acres until 1838.

Carter Plantation

Carter Plantation’s new neighbor

Built in the style of an English cottage in 1790, Butler Greenwood Plantation is also relatively small by Georgia standards, but it was a thriving agricultural concern back in the mid-1800s, when nearly 100 enslaved people worked the cotton, sugarcane, and indigo fields. It’s a private residence, largely unchanged since the 1850s.


Nottoway Plantation, on the other hand, is exactly the sort of plantation home that drips with the style of its time. You could easily imagine Scarlet O’Hara sitting on the porch with the Tarleton twins complaining about “war talk,” though frankly, my dear, Tara was nowhere near this grand.

Today, it’s the South’s “largest remaining antebellum mansion,” and it’s hard to wrap your head around the size of this place. At one time it held 176 people in enslavement, doing the brutal work of sugarcane production on the owner’s 7,000+ acres. Now, it’s a hotel that also does tours.

This is the back of the house!

Oak Alley doesn’t shy away from its history of enslavement, and it includes an exhibit that tells the stories of the human beings forced into labor in the plantation’s sugarcane fields. Tours of the slave quarters and the Big House are offered, but we arrived too late to take one.


We passed several more over the course of our final week in the areas surrounding Baton Rouge, including the magnificent Whitney plantation, setting for scenes in the movies Django Unchained and 12 Years A Slave. Its history includes some of the most brutal aspects of slavery, but its modern face is turned toward telling that story through the voices and experiences of the enslaved. It is marked out as a designated “Site of Memory,” (in this instance, a location in which a significant point in history, held in collective memory, is contained) as well as being on the National Register of Historic Places.

If Georgia’s fictional Twelve Oaks and Louisiana had a baby, it would be the Whitney.

We didn’t discover the names of the following plantation homes along the scenic Great River Road, but they gave us a fairly clear idea of what neighboring homes of wealthy land-owners would have looked like, pre-Civil War.




Over the course of this trip we’ve been so appreciative of the places that look the uglier aspects of their past straight in the eye, call it what it is, and strive to educate toward an understanding of those events, unfiltered by bias.

Louisiana is, of course, far more than its past. Our tour of the downtown area turned up lots of interesting sights, including Louisiana’s Old State Capital, the WWII destroyer USS Kidd, Red Stick Market farmer’s market, and the fascinating Sing the River Sculpture, which reminded us of The Bean in Chicago.





Bluebonnet Swamp Nature Center made for another easy drive and gave us the chance for some fresh air in natural surroundings.


You can take the kid out of the jungle, but…

How moody!

Susan still wasn’t up for much cooking, so we decided to grab lunch at Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers, which started in Baton Rouge in 1996. We’re not big fast-food people, but we had to agree, these were some pretty terrific chicken fingers, and one order was enough to split (3 for Simon, 1 for Susan).


As our time in Baton Rouge wrapped up, we decided the only area we hadn’t really seen yet was to the north of the city, and a day-trip found us in Natchez, Mississippi, just across the Mississippi River. So often during our travels we’re led to something special, and this road trip was no exception.

We grabbed lunch at Pig Out Inn BBQ solely based on its funny name, splitting a scrummy chopped brisket sandwich with sides of potato salad and baked beans. It was all delicious, but those beans…Susan could easily have made a meal just of those (which would be a bad idea later that night in a 36-foot space, so she didn’t).


The unexpected highlight of the day, however, was the Natchez Powwow, which we stumbled upon as we walked along the riverside, celebrating culture through dance, music, food, and camaraderie. Everyone was welcome to join some of the dances, but we stayed off to the side, since we had Ruthie with us. We did check in advance to make sure photos were acceptable, and were told we were welcome to take photos and video.


Dances circled a tent in the center of the ring, where drummers and singers were located, and people moved along the dance route in whatever way moved them. Some shuffled, some danced alone, some danced shoulder-to-shoulder, and it was so beautiful we forgave ourselves for getting a bit misty-eyed.


Beautiful, powerful women!

I love the generations in this photo.

Baton Rouge and its surrounding areas surprised and delighted us, and it’s certainly an area to which we’ll return. We are reminded again and again how blessed we are to experience the events and meet the people that make this country so diverse and compelling.

Striking A Balance With The Big “Red Stick”


In 1699, a French-Canadian expedition led by Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville made its way along the Mississippi River, and came upon bloody cypress sticks driven into the ground, with fish and the heads of sacrificial bears attached at their pointy tops. These markers signified the Houma Indian and Bayou Goula tribes’ hunting borders, and spawned the name Baton Rouge, or “red stick,” which was the next destination in our Year on the Road journey.

The drive between Lafayette and Baton Rouge turned out to be an adventure in itself, and we were delighted by the scenery on both sides of the 18-mile-long Atchafalaya Basin Bridge. This was real Louisiana stuff; bayou all the way, with people fishing from boats right there along the split highway. Fantastic!

A long, long bridge with a great view!

How pleasant is this?

You know there’s gators in there!

We missed getting the photo, but there are people fishing in small boats in that waterway.

Our first week combined lots of rest for Susan, who was still testing Covid positive, with as much touring (and her fully masked up) as we could possibly do. Tiger’s Trail RV Park proved to be blissfully quiet, with lots of open space that made staying “home” scenic and comfortable.

Isn’t this peaceful? Lots of space around us. That’s the casino in the background.

We had earmarked several Scenic Byways, and because Tunica Trace Scenic Byway was the shortest, we made it our first drive. But this is us, so if you’ve been reading the blog from the start, you already know it won’t be as simple as getting in the car, ambling along joyfully, and ending with happy memories of a relaxing excursion.

Beautiful! Serene! Peaceful! Oh-oh.

We try to find a balance between research and allowing for discovery when we choose the places we’ll tour, so we knew we’d be on a designated Byway (Highway 66) through the Tunica Hills Wildlife Management Area, featuring rolling, forested hills. What we didn’t know was that Highway 66 isn’t paved, it’s only wide enough for one-and-a-half cars, and no one will come to your aid if you break down or blow a tire because there’s no cell phone service in the forest. Plus, there’s bees. Hundreds and hundreds of giant bees, who follow your car for the entire 20-mile trip.

It’s like something straight out of a Bob Ross painting.

And then the “uh-oh” began.

All we could think of was blowing a tire and having to change it with a thousand of these angry bees swarming around in a murder rage.

Poor little Nippy lurched and pounded and battled her way through, and we were incredibly relieved when we finally reached the end of the Byway and hit solid pavement.

And then there was this.

We were slightly less relieved when we came to the end of the pavement and were face-to-face with the notorious Louisiana State Penitentiary, also known as Angola Prison, home to what the locals call “the real bad boys.”

Back away quietly, Simon.

But we’re glad to have the story, since we lived. If not for having to watch the road every moment for massive potholes and downed trees, it would truly be one of the most wild and beautiful drives we’ve done so close to a major city.


We drove on to St. Francisville for a glimpse of The Myrtles antebellum plantation, whose current owners call it one of America’s most haunted houses. Up to ten people are said to have been murdered at this former slave-owning plantation, but documentation indicates it was really only one.

That one person isn’t the ghost most people agree haunts the place, though.  Instead, Chloe, a former slave hung by her neck until dead for the poisoning of a former owner’s three children, still walks the grounds. Problem is, it seems none of the plantation’s records include a slave named Chloe, two of the children actually died from Yellow Fever, and the third lived a long-ish life. Even so, hauntings are fun when no one gets hurt.

A caretaker named William Winter took a bullet on one of the house’s side porches, but doesn’t seem to spend any time in the house now that he’s enjoying the afterlife.

Susan was still testing Covid positive, so we were finding a balance between touring and napping, and a quieter day was on the cards. Louisiana State University wasn’t far away, so we popped over to see the Indian Mounds and pose with a statue of the university’s mascot, Mike the Tiger.


What we didn’t realize was that Mike (at least, the seventh incarnation of the original Mike, who died in 1956) has his own habitat right there on campus grounds. We had thoughts about that particular brand of captivity, but it was still incredible to see such a glorious cat as he sunbathed, yawned, stretched, and found a nice rock to flop down on, to the delight of all onlookers.

Mike doing what Mike does.

And now…a nap!

We had a good, long drive around the campus’s lake area, where huge homes enjoyed one of LSU’s prettiest views. And that’s saying something. Of course, Michigan State University is the most beautiful campus in the country, but LSU is certainly right up there. Simply gorgeous, and those Live Oak trees…!

One of our lasting memories of Louisiana, and especially Baton Rouge, will be these gorgeous Live Oak trees. They’re everywhere, and they’re just stunning.

There were several Scenic Byways we hoped to explore, and Southern Swamp Byway was next on our list. Our first stop along the byway was Cajun Village, a small collection of restored Acadian dwellings made into boutique shops with a distinctly “bayou” flair.



Simon went into the Coffee House and came out with two hot drinks and a bag steaming with three fresh-made beignets, those crispy-soft, fried delights absolutely drowning in powdered sugar. And since he bought them, there was nothing to do but eat them. So we did.

The deliciousness!

The destruction!

Bayou Francois wasn’t far away, so we brushed the powdered sugar off our jeans (and our phones, and our seats, and the floor) and made the trek out into the wilderness. The bayou’s big appeal is fishing and kayaking, but those were off the cards for us. Even so, the drive to the bayou was punctuated by gator sightings, hundreds of birds, and an up-close view of an Exxon Mobile Pipeline plant surrounded by hundreds of acres of swampland.

A rocky road runs through swampland on both sides.

Most of this isn’t solid ground. So many creatures live in there.

Giant gator alert! There were several biggies here, as well as a few smaller ones.

A stark contrast between natural wetlands and burn-off from Exxon Mobile’s plant.

After a few days of touring, we needed a quiet day (and by “we” I mean “Susan”), so one of us slept much of the next day away and the other (Simon) went to see Dune 2 at a nearby movie theater (fully masked, of course, and with only three other people in the theater), then checked out the casino that supports Tiger’s Trail campground.

The casino and hotel are quite elegant, and are situated right off the Mississippi River.

At that point we had a decision to make. We had planned to move on to New Orleans after a week, but there was so much to do in Baton Rouge, and we felt we hadn’t done the area justice yet. True to the very best of Southern hospitality, the staff at Tiger’s Trail were absolutely brilliant in extending our stay, and their kindness was, without a doubt, the key to a better recovery for Susan and more time in a wonderful city for both of us.