The foliage out here is dense, and stately Gulf Coast live oaks grace many of the more affluent homes, of which there are many. However, ramshackle shacks with old cars rusting away in their yards are also common. Folks around here, both black and white, have been very polite to me, and curious about my journey. Many folks' names are French, and I was happily surprised to learn that French is still spoken by some as a home language here in Acadia. Though it was a pleasure talking to people today, it was a very tiring day, because the route wound through many residential areas, containing legions of unrestrained pet dogs. Every 10 or 20 minutes, I had to stop and yell at dogs that darted out of some yard to chase me. I yelled all of them away, but the frequency of this incident has made my voice hoarse, and my head fatigued. So for the end of today's ride I left the small country streets and kept to the shoulder of a busy state highway, where homes and keptdogs were less common.
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