New Orleans Plantation Poker Run

‘Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!’ I’m feeling cantankerous as Rhett Butler as I’m putting on my gear for the Plantation Poker Run. It’s only 8 a.m. but the sun is already cresting over New Orleans’ skyline and the humid air closes in on my wife and me as soon as we leave the air-conditioned comfort of the Ambassador Hotel’s lobby. A blast from the steam whistle of the paddle wheeler called the Natchez docked a few blocks away sets the mood for some ‘Mississippi Playtime.’ Gambling is intertwined with the South’s history almost as much as the antebellum mansions that were our day’s destinations, and I’m as anxious to get rolling as a riverboat gambler holding a hidden ace up his sleeve.

Pulling into the Riverwalk Festival lot on a 2009 Harley-Davidson Electra Glide, there’s more bikers gathered this morning than I’ve seen at any other event in my two day’s at Bike Week New Orleans. Damn the luck. The fewer people I had to beat out to win the new Sportster up for grabs as the poker run’s grand prize, the better. The odds of winning were quickly getting worse as it became a mad scramble to get a map of the day’s stops. While many riders mill about waiting to head out as a group, we strike out lone wolf-style after punching the address of the first stop into our secret weapon, our Garmin GPS. All’s fair in love and poker runs, and we were hoping to be one of the first to draw from a hot deck.

A quick ride up the bumpy thoroughfare known as Poydras Street takes us right by the Louisiana Superdome. The convex white dome is symbolic of the city’s fortunes as it has served as both refuge during New Orleans’ struggles after Katrina and as the home to the championship winning football team that restored so much pride to the city. We cruise by admiring the impressive architecture of the massive dome then jump on I-10 for a short stint before turning off on Airline Highway on our way to New Orleans Harley-Davidson.

The big orange roof of N.O. H-D leaves no mistake that we are in the right place. I guess more riders were keen on the idea of an early start as well as the parking lot is already packed with full-dress Harleys. We go inside eager to draw our first card. Whenever I’ve played poker with my wife in the past, she’s always wins handily, so I’m hoping her good fortunes will carry over to the poker run as she chooses the first card. She pulls from the middle of the deck, turning over an eight of clubs. Not the start we were hoping for, but we’ve got four more chances to match it up with more eights or clubs. A trip to the Harley dealer’s service shop is in order before we head out again as the suspension on the Electra Glide is set too soft for riding two-up with saddlebags full. The reps are more than happy to oblige and with a few quick pumps the tech has the rear end dialed-in, but not before my wife can spend $100 on a new pair of Harley-Davidson riding boots. A lousy eight and a hundred in the hole at the first stop. I get an inkling of how this day’s going to go.

We jump back on Airline Highway, which takes us by Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. A steady stream of big jets land and take off on runways that run parallel to the highway. The road leads us to Interstate 310 and it feels good to open up the Electra Glide to highway cruising speeds and leave the congestion of the city streets behind. The stretch bridges swampy areas dominated by cypress trees draped in Irish moss. The fertile wetlands are in full spring display as a green carpet dominates both sides of the road. The undergrowth is thick and virtually impenetrable unless you’re a large, four-legged semi-aquatic amphibian with skin like armor and a propeller for a tail.

It’s not long before we’re at our second stop. The Destrehan Plantation, with its giant white columns and a grand second floor balcony that runs the length of its façade looks as regal today as it did when it was established back in 1787. Destrehan holds the laurels of being the oldest documented plantation home in the lower Mississippi River Valley. The property was first bought by Jean Noel Destrehan who purchased the land from the estate of his father-in-law. Jean Noel was instrumental to shaping the economic situation of the South by helping to perfect the granulation of sugar which led to the boon of the sugarcane industry. The antebellum mansion also houses the ‘Jefferson Document’ which was signed by Thomas Jefferson himself that assigns four men, one being Jean Noel, to the Orleans Territorial Council. It is considered one of the most important documents in New Orleans history.

We take a quick trip into the worn-wooden building of the Destrehan Plantation Store to get our second card. Inside the gift store we get a surprise – no cards. Apparently, the guy back at New Orleans Harley-Davidson wasn’t supposed to have us draw. Instead, they are stamping tally cards at each stop and everybody will draw all five cards once they get back to the Riverwalk Festival. This is a first among the poker runs I’ve participated in and negated some of the fun that pulling a card from the deck at each stop holds. Of course, this also meant that our eight of clubs was null and void and we’d have a chance to improve our hand. We take advantage of the historic charm of the building with a photo op of the Electra Glide in front of the large-pillared mansion. In the distance, we see a woman in a big-hooped dress popular in an era long-past leading a group of tourists around the grounds.

The knowledge that we get to discard our eight of clubs and draw five new cards reenergizes our zeal for the run. Hopping back onto I-310, we get an overhead view of the muddy waters of the Mississippi from the seat of the Electra Glide as we cross over a bridge. The wide river makes a cargo ship powering upstream look like a toy boat in a bathtub and gives us a reminder of why they call this the Mighty Mississippi. We head north on LA 3127 as the forest presses in on the road. The stretch of road is flat and straight as can be as it heads through the piney woods with the only turns being our swerves to avoid squashed armadillos in the road. Every now and then we pass a car parked seemingly in the middle of nowhere before we see the top of a fishing pole and a local hunkered down at their favorite secret fishing hole. My wife points out the needle of our fuel gauge is creeping ever closer to ‘E’ and there’s no towns in site on this longest leg of the run. A Shell station appears out of nowhere and is my saving grace from the chastising I would have received if we ran out of gas since my wife asked as we were leaving New Orleans Harley-Davidson if we should stop and fill up. Of course I said no, but she also knows I’ve got a bad habit of running on fumes and have had to call in the cavalry to bring me a splash of gas on more than one occasion when I lose the gamble. Bad part is, the cavalry was riding with me this time.

A white picket fence around a large, raised house sitting on brick stilts hidden by the boughs of big oak trees lets us know that we have found the Creole plantation called Laura. The U-shaped yellow building is the Maison Principale of the plantation. The manor house was built in 1804 for Guillaume Duparc, a French naval veteran of the American Revolution who petitioned Thomas Jefferson for the property. Duparc’s house itself is well-preserved, but some of the surrounding buildings like the animal barns, overseers’ cottages and slave quarters are more dilapidated and add to the authenticity of the plantation. Twelve of the buildings are on the National Register and spread out between three gardens. Guides share the story of how the ancient west-African tales of Compair Lapin, aka "Br'er Rabbit," were recorded inside one of the slave cabins.

We get our card stamped and are back on the Harley for the short jaunt back up Hwy. 18 to our next destination. The Electra Glide is the ideal motorcycle for our run. Its plush passenger accommodations keep my wife comfy and happy, we’ve got tunes to enjoy during our ride, and we can strip off our jackets and helmets and stash them in the topcase and saddlebags at every stop. And when temperatures are approaching the mid-80s, stripping off layers is a good thing. It’s a quick ride as we parallel the levied banks of the Mississippi on the 3.5-mile hop between Laura and Oak Alley Plantations.

It’s easy to see why our next stop is called the “Grande Dame of the Great River Road.” Twenty-eight giant oaks, estimated to be over 300 years old, have been perfectly placed to form a natural canopy that leads to the grand multi-storied antebellum home that is Oak Alley Plantation. The fact that somebody planted these trees while our country was still in its infancy and that they all have survived countless floods and hurricanes is amazing. The grand columned house with its Greek Revival architecture is equally impressive, as are its immaculately groomed grounds. It was constructed from 1837-1839 by Jacques T. Roman and is definitely the most touristy stop so far, with a restaurant, gift shop, and on-premise cottages that have been turned into a B&B. We seek out a young man decked out in urban street-rider gear and a big smile that stamps our card and wishes us good luck.

As much as we’d like to take the tour and listen to the ‘Colonel’ spin yarns about the Civil War, the four o’clock deadline to turn in our card is approaching fast. The route to San Francisco Plantation takes us back over the Mississippi once again as we roll under the steel cables of a suspension bridge that dominates the otherwise flat landscape.

The final stop is at the most ornate and decorative plantation yet. The San Francisco Plantation stands out with its yellow painted sides, blue window shutters, and a white ventilated roof. Built in the old Creole style back in 1856 for Edmond Bozonier Marmillion, the mansion reflects “La Belle Epoque,” a period that celebrated the finest things in life. The mansion’s Gothic windows, roof top balcony, and twin cisterns with pointed spires are but a few of the building’s many artistic details that set it apart from the rest. A fountain near its entrance has been constructed from giant metal pots that were once used in sugar production.

With our card stamped full and less than an hour to cover the 39-mile ride back to town, we start making our way back to I-10. I’m winding out the gears of the Harley tourer as I weave between open lanes. A radio broadcast informs us that an accident on I-10 East in Kenner is bottlenecking traffic. As luck would have it, traffic comes to a halt as we approach the scene of the wreck. The bike’s digital clock is counting down the minutes – 25,24,23. I’m determined to make it back to town in time to turn in our card and bounce from opening to opening trying to keep in motion. Fortunately, the 2009 Electra Glide has the new chassis and the motorcycle is handling like a charm. With the Superdome in sight, we dodge off the freeway and pull back into the Riverwalk Festival lot with five minutes to spare.

We head over to the Southern Comfort booth with our tally card complete with all five stamps from the five different stops riding a wave of confidence from making it back on time. Maybe that luck will transcend to our draw. The lady shuffles and lets my wife cut. She divides it into three different piles and the lady stacks them together. We think we’re going to be able to draw cards one at a time from the deck, but she informs us they are dealing the first five off the top, another first for a poker run. We take the news in stride, just happy for a chance to play. The guy turning in his card next to us is throwing a fit that the Ace that he drew at New Orleans Harley-Davidson isn’t any good and storms off without drawing at all. My wife and I look at each other and laugh. Sure, everybody likes to win, but poker runs are more about the ride and the chance to see scenic sights beyond the rally limits that you’d otherwise miss. It’s also a great way to meet fellow riders. The lady flips over our cards - Ace,10,7,4,3. We won’t be riding away with the grand prize today. But we came out winners anyways as we spent the day escaping the city, touring grand homes rich in history and riding through the bayous, taking in as much of the Louisiana experience as possible.