This was another interesting day but for different reasons. We never know the real story of each day's ride until the "ride talk" on the morning of that day. We get a minimal preview at "Bill's Talk" the previous evening before the show which are mostly description of the places and sights on the route. Specific questions about the rides themselves are skillfully deflected. We think the primary reason for this is that Bill and his team will spend part of the prior evening and early morning finishing or completely changing routes. This is especially true on this trip because the river is still rising after all the rain of the previous week and some planned docking spots are under water. They have really been scrambling to make adjustments almost every day and to do it with as limited a negative impact on our overall experience as possible. There are complaining malcontent participants on every trip, of course, but I say if you can't go with the flow on a Santana trip, better not sign up. Which brings us to the logistics of getting all of us to and through Angola prison.
At the morning route talk, Bill announced that the ride one way would be 25 miles, plus 10 miles within the compound itself. So, knowing that only a few of us would want to ride 60 miles (although he added a couple of side attractions so people could ride 70 or 75, and some did), he had to split us in half: one group would bus and truck bikes out in the morning and the other half would ride out and bus/truck back. A coin was flipped in front of the whole crowd and it was determined that the even numbered rooms would ride out and the odds would ride back. Being in room 509, this was NOT going to work for us. We were exhausted from the previous days' rides but I was determined that we were not going to miss Angola and only completely disabled people were allowed to ride the bus both ways (which pride would not allow us to do anyway). So. Any hope for us would be to ride first, and die later. There was one option that allowed us to go in the morning without breaking the rules: if we could find a couple that was in an even numbered room and who planned to ride both ways, we could go in their place in the morning. So while Joe stood in line for the new rout sheet, I ran madly around the boat looking for Richard and Rhonda and confirming that it was their intention to ride both ways and could we partner up with them. Done.
So we set off with our friends and rode through the small town of St. Francisville, along a short stretch of four-lane highway and then turned down a two-lane road that would take us straight to the gates of the penitentiary. Well, not exactly straight (there were some curves) and, as usual, there were some hills. Once again, our riding companions were much stronger, but they kindly tried to not let us drop too far behind. As before, they disappeared on the hills, but let us catch up on the downhills and flats. It was a lovely rural road and then we finally pulled up to the sound of live gospel/soul/blues music, savory smells of jambalaya, and riders milling around under lovely green shade trees. Just a few more steps and there was the front gate of the "Louisiana State Penitentiary."
As I mentioned in the last post, the band were inmates released from work to play for us and they were wonderful. Really good musically and very heartfelt. We were able to mingle and talk with them between numbers and they seemed to really appreciate our appreciation of them. Yummy lunch of jambalaya, salad, rolls and blueberry cobbler. In the building behind us was a museum containing all kinds of information and historical artifacts of the prison, including a replica of the electric chair "Gruesome Gertie," which could not be avoided on the way to the ladies' room.
The group that took the morning bus was returning from their ride-tour of the complex and we were finishing lunch. The a quick call to get on the bikes and with the cry of "We're rolling!" 200 people on singles and tandems took off with a jeep escort in the front and another in the rear. We were told to not leave gaps, but that's difficult with so many riders and especially with tandems. Nonetheless, we were on our way. The first third of the ride looked like riding through a large farm. The whole place is 13,000 acres and we were told that it was prison land as far as we could see. We stopped once so a guide with a bull horn could tell us about the agricultural activities and products of the prison. An interesting comment was that they found it was more economical to sell the cattle we saw being raised and buy cheaper cuts of beef on the outside for the prisoners to eat "in their meat sauce." Also, there were no milk cows because it was discovered that people did not want to buy "prison milk." We scratched our heads over that one for a while.
The group took off again and passed a medium security section of non-violent offenders who had been moved there from other prisons that had been closed down elsewhere in the state. We waved to inmates who were out playing basketball on the sunny afternoon and they waved back. We passed a couple of pens with some bison, bulls and for whatever reason a camel! Rode past the maximum security buildings which Joe noted did not have air-conditioning units. This was confirmed later, but they do have fans. On this April afternoon, it was already hot. We rode past the rodeo arena, where last weekend they had their annual Angola Rodeo. We were told that the inmates were not "forced to participate" but many did, enough to draw crowds from all over to come and see the rodeo. As we rode by, inmates behind razor wire fences were breaking down colorful booths and other festival-like stuff. It felt strange. And then, we rode past a beautiful, tranquil golf course where people from the outside can come to play (the inmates cannot). One last stop under the trees for a Q&A with our guide, and an opportunity to meet and talk with a couple of dogs and their handlers. There were lots of questions from the group and it was interesting. My question was, are there any women in the facility, and the answer was no. The youngest inmate is 15, with a life sentence for murder. They are keeping him separately "until he is mature enough to join the general population." Whatever that means. Except for the small medium security facility we passed, almost all the inmates are either on death row or in for life without possibility of parole. The average age is high and there is a hospital and hospice on the grounds. All very sobering stuff.
We left the prison, grabbed a snack, made sure our bike was loaded onto the truck and got on the bus. As we passed the riders cycling on the route home, we were very glad we weren't climbing those hills again.
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