urban bicycle journeys

About two years ago I took a writing class taught by Loyola University lecturer CW Cannon. CW grew up in an artsy bohemian household in Faubourg Marigny. As a kid he ran around the streets of the French Quarter. Back then he felt like he was on another planet from elite Uptown. In one of his published essays about New Orleans, he proposes that in the latter half of the nineteenth century the “real” Mardi Gras was “stolen” from the “people” when wealthy Uptowners organized Mardi Gras into big parades. These parades certainly were elitist. For a hundred years parading organizations had a membership that paralleled certain wealthy men’s clubs and also the debutante scene.

The parades have always been a procession of fifteen to forty large floats, the riding members throwing trinkets to the masses. On our living room wall we have a framed “parade bulletin” from 1902. The horse drawn floats of the krewe Knights of Momus look impressive. The theme that year was “Byron” as in the poetry of Lord Byron. Each float represented a certain poem. Byron is a fine poet, but really, how much fun is high brow poetry?

In 2025 parades continue to dominate the New Orleans Mardi Gras season but New Orleans has changed, especially in the past thirty years. The scene is more democratic and the number of parading krewes and their membership has grown exponentially. The label of elitist just no longer applies. Fun is to be had by all.

Nevertheless CW does reflect on a more active method of celebration than “just” watching a parade. The most intense Mardi Gras experience is the unplanned chaos of the French Quarter on Mardi Gras Day.

On that Fat Tuesday supposedly a million people crowd the streets all over the city. Parades on St. Charles Avenue in Uptown continue all day. Tootie and I looked instead to go two miles downtown to the French Quarter. Car travel was almost impossible. Most assume that the only way to get there is to walk. Or ride a bicycle. We rode our two 1970’s Schwinns and locked them on the edge of the Quarter at bike racks beneath the Canal Place shopping mall. We met our friends Lyman and Gillian on Decatur Street.

During Mardi Gras the fading local lingo is that you “mask” for Mardi Gras, not “dress up.” We had masked as Devo two years earlier and reprised this role. Gillian had broken her arm in a fall the night before but she soldiered on.

The red hats are Energy Domes. One’s brain energy feeds up into the dome, then gradually and beneficially spreads down from the top. They are for sale on the band Devo’s website.

At 8:00 AM the Riverwalk was only sparsely populated.

We eventually did find crowds. The thrill of the day is just walking around the Quarter and Faubourg Marigny, looking at people and being part of a scene. Essentially everyone was masked, in costume.

Local clarinetist Pete Fountain died of old age nine years ago but Pete Fountain’s Half Fast Walking Club continues.

We stopped by the Carousel Bar of the Monteleone Hotel. It was crazy in there at 11:00 AM. I do not know these people.

Mardi Gras Day celebrations generally start early and end early. Predicted thunderstorms were on the way and our Mardi Gras would end by 2:00 PM. Near the Riverwalk, on the way back to our bicycles Tootie sat down with some random people.

We biked home. I could heat up leftover gumbo that was in the fridge.