Bicycle Advocacy: A Stormy Trail

By Larry Lagarde

This is the 1st in a 3 part series describing how a catastrophe turned me into a cycling advocate and led Tennessee cyclists to ground truth the Mississippi River Trail.

Just An Ordinary Guy
Up until Hurricane Katrina, I was a guy minding my own web services business. I'd been hosting, designing and marketing websites since 1996. I had lots of small business clients in the local tourism industry.

Three months before the storm, I started a new website named RideTHISbike.com. The site was a proof of concept of several e marketing strategies that I believed in. At the time, clients were cool to ideas like blogging so I wanted to demonstrate what could be done. I focused on cycling because, other than work or sleep, I did more cycling than anything else.

One month before Katrina, I married a young, blond fireball named Robin. Robin and her 2 sons were still in the process of transitioning from their apartment into my home when Katrina struck.

Storm Warnings
On August 23rd, 2005, my dad telephoned to say that there was a hurricane named Katrina in the Atlantic Ocean. Though it was too early to know for sure what the storm would do, computer models were predicting that the Katrina would enter the Gulf of Mexico, strengthen and make landfall between Lake Charles, LA and Gulf Shores, AL, placing New Orleans straight in the cross hairs.

Dad asked me if he should include a room for my young family in his reservation at the Hollywood Casino in Tunica, MS (the closest hotel he could find). Although I thought it premature, hotels beyond the potential evacuation zone were booking up fast so I said "sure".

By August 28th, Katrina was a category 5 hurricane with winds of 170 mph and was gunning for New Orleans. Around 9am, with storm gusts already caressing the city, I finished boarding up my home, jumped into my Kia Sportage SUV and hit the road. My car was crammed to the ceiling with possessions including Feisty (one of my 3 cats). The other cats were too freaked out to catch so I reluctantly left them behind.

Robin, Mateo (my 5 year old stepson), Feisty the cat and I caravaned in 2 vehicles (Eli, Robin's oldest, had already left town with his dad). For 2 nerve wracking hours, we snaked along at a pace slower than walking. Approximately 15 hours after the start of our exodus, we arrived in Tunica - thoroughly exhausted.

About 7am August 29th, my brother knocked on the door of our hotel room. There was live coverage of Katrina on television. A group huddle was called around the television in my parent's room. Early reports were that Katrina had lost strength and that the city was spared. Ecstatic, my dad announced that we should all prepare to check out; we'd be home by the end of the day.

Tomorrow: Reality, Shock & Despair plus Relocating On The Fly