Working At Sea Level

I'm taking a 34 hour break down at Port Fourchon LA this weekend. If you've never been down in this part of the country you are missing out on a unique cultural experience. These folks down here have their own unique culture, their own foods, a unique vernacular, the Zydeco music is theirs to claim - they've got boats that are unique to the area, they've even got their own unique breed of dog (the Catahoula hound - one of the finest dogs for hunting wild hogs with, and he also makes a unique dog for working with cattle) I've got one of these at home "Cricket", who jumps and barks excitedly every time I come home from being out on the road.

These folks can wail out a sad love song with those accordion strands going on in the background that will bring tears to your eyes even though you can't understand a word of their quasi-French lyrics.  The live music in this area is pretty amazing.

I picked up 15 bags of salt weighing 3,000 pounds each from a salt mine in Carlsbad NM to deliver to a Halliburton yard down here at Port Fourchon. Here's a look at the salt mine and the bags of salt.

Port Fouchon is basically an oilfield area that also services the off-shore rigs out in the Gulf of Mexico, there are great ships here along with lots of Helicopters and other various forms of oilfield equipment. Just about any company that's involved in the oilfield support business has a drop yard or facility of some sort down here. Here's a photo of one of many ships that was docked at the yard I delivered to and following that is a photo of a "Man Camp" right next to the truck stop I'm taking a break at. It's not the greatest photo, but notice how the mobile homes are all elevated - everything down here is elevated like that- the roads I'm driving on are just inches above the water levels down here.

Okay, one more interesting picture of what is called a "fishing shack" down here, it's actually more like a beach house or vacation home, but it's out in the water - there's just no other place to put them down here. You don't drive your car to these houses, you either take your boat, or walk down about 150 yards of old rotting wooden walkways to get to them.

There's never a dull moment doing this flat-bed work, last week my daughter was with me when we got into a little snow storm up in upstate New York, and this week I'm enjoying a break down in Louisiana with the night time coastal breezes blowing gently through my truck while I type out this post. You move around so much doing this job that you never know what's going to be next, it's all part of the adventure