Evacuated from our campground!

Miss our last post? Read it here first!

Ever since Hurricane Katrina, everyone in the country is well-aware that the Louisiana low country can experience irreparable damage when severe weather rolls in. In some ways I think it boosts the loyalty to New Orleans. There is an unmistakable sense of pride and camaraderie that is apparent immediately when you enter the vicinity. Mardi Gras was also just around the corner when we visited, so that probably contributed to the buzz. When I booked a 6-night stay at Tickfaw State Park, an hour northwest of New Orleans, I knew that the park was in the middle of hurricane restoration. Some of the trails were closed and we would be surrounded by downed trees and other destruction. I chose the park anyway because I heard great reviews, despite the park's unfortunate circumstances. We booked a lovely site with a wooden deck and couldn't wait to introduce ourselves to the Bayou.

We arrived exhausted after battling rainstorms and floods on our drive to Louisiana. This made the park's destruction all too real. We entered through the gates and noticed that the entry road was surrounded by water, almost high enough to start seeping onto the pavement. Our campsite was one of the highest and driest, but we still had some puddles in the grass next to our RV. We realized that the deck wasn't just an added accommodation; it was necessary so that we ensured a dry place to put our steps down and make our way in and out of our trailer.

Our traditional campground exploration wasn't the usual fun jaunt. Instead we were somber, seeing all the sites that were completely underwater, mostly tent sites in the loop opposite ours. There were only a few other campers in the park, also quiet and keeping to themselves. When we approached the bathhouse which is built on stilts, we saw a sign indicating the highest flood levels recorded at Tickfaw. For reference, Anthony is 5'11.

We returned to our site, our feet wet and our hearts achy, wondering what the week would entail. We knew some upcoming days predicted rain and we weren't sure how we would fare. After our intense three days of travel, we just crossed our fingers that we could hunker down through the storms. We were both feeling exhausted to the point of sick and we desperately needed a rest.

The next day was overall sunny, and so we went about business as usual. Then in the afternoon, we got a knock at the door. A ranger came to let us know that our loop has now become flooded and they had to close the road. If we needed to leave, we'd have to exit the wrong way on the one-way street. He also said that they were monitoring the rising water levels and there was a possibility that we'd need to evacuate, but he'd let us know for sure in about an hour.

Two hours later, we hadn't heard anything, which we considered good news. We checked the weather forecast and saw that the predicted rain had decreased as well. Also good news. We took this as a sign to finally venture out and get some needed supplies. I was feeling sicker than Anthony at this point, so he took one for the team and went to the store.

Only he didn't get far. Shortly after the truck pulled out of our site, I got a knock at the door. The ranger was back, letting me know that he heard from upper management and they were afraid the rising water levels would leave not only our site in ankle-deep water by midnight, but the waters might also make the entry road inaccessible. Anthony had only gotten as far as the bathhouse, so he turned back around. Packing up was pretty quick since we hadn't done a lot of unpacking from our drive days. The worst part was that the sun would be setting in about a half-hour. We had no choice but to do the very thing we hate. We'd have to tow in the dark. Adding insult to injury was that we'd be towing in the dark, in a flood zone, in a place we don't know. After 3 long drive days. While sick.

Tickfaw had arranged our transfer to another state park about 30 miles east, which was the opposite direction we wanted to go, but what were we supposed to do at that point? It was already getting dark and would take us an hour to get there, but the ranger let us know that someone on staff would be staying late in both parks to help us out. We still had things to do in the area, namely picking up Amazon packages after weeks of being unable to get any deliveries, and so we made Fairview-Riverside State Park our destination. We stopped by the Tickfaw office on our way out to see if we could get anymore information or directions. We set our GPS but last time it took us to a closed side road and through a flood. The office was closed. We were on our own. First thing we had to do was fill up on gas. We were 25 towing miles to empty. This was one of the errands Anthony was going to do when he was out. We found a few gas station options that we could fit into about 12 miles away, but our GPS kept taking us the wrong direction. We decided to just stay on the most main roads possible and follow Google Maps. We got gas, hopped on I-12, and headed back the way we had just come the day before.

When we arrived to Fairview, the office was closed. I get that these people can't change the weather, but the false promises really stuck in my side like thorns. First we were told we'd get the evacuation notice after an hour, but instead didn't get word until we were guaranteed to need to leave in the dark. Then we were told staff would stay late in both offices, which was not the case in either location. We did find something that was better than nothing, though: A list of sites that were reserved, with a note telling us to "pick a site not on this list." At least that gave us an indication that they did know we were coming, but I didn't quite trust it. If the site we chose was long enough, we would have just stayed hitched in case we needed to move the next day. No sites were long enough, and most were rutted by the rain. The pavement on the sites was too narrow to fit our steps, so when we finally chose a spot and backed in, our steps opened into a puddle. No snazzy decks this time. We put blocks down so the steps wouldn't sink in the mud. Were they really sure that this state park wouldn't also flood? It was looking pretty wet already.

The silver lining to needing to unhitch was that at least then Anthony could run to the store, which was now a lot closer than when we were at Tickfaw. We got our needed supplies and settled in, purposely not unpacking until we checked in at the office the next day.

Turns out, our gut instinct was right. The communication between the state parks was terrible, and by the time Anthony checked us in, it was clear that Fairview was quite aggravated with Tickfaw. Can't say I blame them; I was aggravated with them too. Tickfaw never gave Fairview the reservation details on the displaced campers, and because we were planning on riding out our stay until that Saturday, we couldn't stay in our chosen site. Someone was coming in later that day. Fairview gave us a list of actual available sites, and so we dragged ourselves through the rows of campsites, at that point not really caring where we'd end up as long as we didn't have to move again. We had one spot that seemed like it would fit us the best, but apparently between the time we got the site list and the time we told them which site we wanted, they had booked that site. So they just decided to put us in site 1. A bit short for our length and so we gouged the muddy grass with our truck tires when we inevitably had to park Clyde at an angle, half off the pavement, but the staff didn't seem to care. They likely had bigger fish to fry at that point.

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, we figured if we were changing sites anyway, we might as well dump so that we wouldn't need to conserve water during the remainder of our stay. Good choice considering the humidity was up around 90%, so between that and our compromised immune systems, we were doing a lot of washing of a lot of things.

Including our site change that day, we had 5 days in a row of moving the RV. The trailer was a mess, we barely had time to unpack, and now we had to deal with chasing after a refund from Tickfaw. Fairview gave us our "evacuation" night free, and at the time of writing this post, Tickfaw is working on issuing our refund for every night except the one we stayed.

We went into Louisiana extremely conscious of the sensitive land and high risk of damage. We understand that these things happen. What's disappointing is that these things happen in southeastern LA all the time, and yet the state park infrastructure and communication just weren't up to snuff. We thought about leaving Fairview altogether instead of changing sites, but the price was right and we were just so sick of packing and hitching and towing. We think at the end of the day it was a good choice. Once we settled into our new site, we headed over to pick up our Amazon packages, which was an adventure of its own. Had we stayed at Tickfaw we wouldn't have gone this route, but our new digs led us closer to the causeway over Lake Pontchartrain, a 24-mile bridge connecting the I-12 corridor to I-10 around New Orleans, famed as the longest bridge in the United States and the world's longest continuous bridge over water. What a spectacular drive! (Gephyrophobes, maybe skip the next video/photos).

With our errands done, the next order of business was to just hope nothing would displace us again so that we could start feeling better and actually take advantage of our remaining time in Louisiana.