Motorcycles grow on poles


Wandering just for the sake of wandering has its own benefits. I figured this out one fine day in Louisiana – when we were driving casually through the marshes in and out of small towns along the lake Pontchartrain just outside of New Orleans. First, there are no time constraints to reach a destination, so one can simply be in the moment.

Second, you come across scenes that you wouldn’t otherwise pay attention to. I mean, look at the picture above, the driver of the car did not even blink an eye at seeing this motorcycle hanging from a pole. Whereas, I and another fellow wanderer, stopped our car, went into the private property to get a few pictures of this hanging motorcycle.

No sooner than we were done, comparing our notes, I knew we were in trouble. In hindsight, we should have just stayed on the road. The owner of the compound was not pleased to see our presence on his property. While we were shooting, he had brought out his own handgun and aimed it squarely at us. At gunpoint, he started his interrogations and wanted to know who we were and what we were doing there. Our cameras must have been convincing for him to buy our story that we meant no harm. Nevertheless, he let us go only on the condition that we delete all the pictures we had taken. This one survived to tell the tale.

From the picture, I can’t tell if this is a Harley or a Triumph.

Edit: This picture was taken just a few months before Hurricane Katrina struck Louisiana with all its ferocity. I might have survived the day, but every time I look at this picture, my thoughts go back to the guy and his motorcycle on the pole – did he survive Hurricane Katrina?

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