Running from the top of the boot all the way down to the toes, La. Highway 1 serves as a corridor to many historic things in Louisiana, but the most infamous one may be at the southern most end.
Looking down upon Grand Isle on Google Earth may lead one to question the sanity of the man who decided it would be wise to cultivate and settle the strip of marsh land and muddy-sand beach.
I assume many people wonder how the isle still exists and how it hasn’t been wiped away by the storms that frequent its eroding banks.
Even during a common summer storm, the highway resembles more of a canal than a paved roadway.
Regardless, Grand Isle is known for one thing: fishing. It’s even home to the U.S.’s oldest fishing rodeo — the International Tarpon Rodeo.
I’ve always heard stories of the Tarpon Rodeo and seen pictures of not only the colossal fish caught in the tournament, but also the kind of vice indulgence that takes place at the dock, so I decided I’d have to see it for myself this year.
Imagining for the most part that one has to travel to foreign exotic places to catch such monsters of the sea, I soon became aware that Grand Isle during the Tarpon Rodeo is exactly that — wild and exotic.
But maybe not so foreign to a member of our traveling cohort, Alex Guinn, who described it as Bourbon Street on a boat.
Cullen Hughes, a veteran of the rodeo, said, “It’s a no-shoes, no-shirt, no-teeth, no-problem kind of weekend.”
My conclusion was that Grand Isle during Tarpon — as regulars call it — is as wild as any corner of the Amazon jungle.
When revelers are making their way down the only route in and out of Grand Isle — unless, of course, you’re travelling via vessel — LA-1 becomes a two-lane parking lot with truck-bed hot tubs and mobile dancing poles.
Jello shots are thrown like Mardi Gras beads to onlookers as they cat-call over their PA systems.
It truly is a sight to see.
This year, Grand Isle saw some nasty thunderstorms at times, but this only intensified the show.
Dance floors become slick with summer rain, making it plausible to experiment with dance moves.
Reports of flesh-eating bacteria trolling the waters of Grand Isle did not keep people away.
Kegs were being floated as they floated alongside the jetties, giving a new meaning to “redneck yacht club.”
But just like that, as the sun rose Sunday morning and the bars finally closed, Grand Isle returned to peace.
Shrimp trawlers resumed their slow routines just off the beach and crew-boat engines cranked up to bring their roustabouts back to the rigs.
Locals began their repairs right away as camp-owners wiped up Tarpon Rodeo residue from their cabin floors.
As far as the fishing tournament went, LSU was well represented. Recent 2013 graduate and Houma native Cory Cheramie landed the only Tarpon of the weekend at 102 pounds.
The Tarpon Rodeo is the Wild West on water. “Dangerous” is a way to describe it, and “fun” just doesn’t do it justice.
If you’re from Louisiana, you should take a trip down Highway 1 during July, let your trashy side come out for a weekend and add this notch to your belt.
Chris Ortte is 22-year-old political science senior from Lafayette.