When a volunteer with The TECHE Project handed me a souvenir pin stamped with an image of a chickadee last month, I knew I’d nabbed a treasure. With their black and white feathers that look like a tuxedo, chickadees are among my favorite birds.
What I like most is their spunk — how they hold their own at my birdfeeders in spite of their small size.
A fitting mascot, in other words, for The TECHE Project, which is pretty plucky itself. Since its founding in 2010, the Acadiana nonprofit has done much to advance the goals of its acronym, which stands for The Teche Ecology, Culture and History Education Project. As part of its goal to promote the preservation and enjoyment of Bayou Teche, the group helped create the Bayou Teche National Paddle Trail, which extends 135 miles through four Acadiana parishes.
Through access docks along the trail, it’s become a haven for kayakers and canoeists.
I sampled a few miles of the trail around Breaux Bridge last month as part of The TECHE Project’s annual “Shake Your Trail Feathers Paddle Parade,” a two-hour procession of kayaks and canoes that concluded at Parc des Ponts Breaux, an oak-shaded public green space. Proceeds from the weekend parade and related festivities support improvements to the paddle trail.
I’m a novice kayaker, but the leisurely pace of the parade is an easy lift for beginners. I was with my more experienced brother, who likes recreational paddlers because of their casual sense of fun. That spirit was much on display during last month’s event, where some of the participants donned plumage and novelty costumes in a nod to the parade’s bird theme.
It was a flawless Saturday to be on the water.
Early hints of autumn took an edge off the temps, and several dozen of us floated under a soft blue sky. Cypress trees threw their arms across the water, shading us from the rising sun. Spanish moss hung from oaks along the bank, like curtains quietly drawn against the brilliance of noon.
What I felt as I glided through the dark brown water wasn’t the largeness of the bayou but its intimacy, a sense of enclosure. At times, it was easy to feel as if we paddlers were the only people in the world. But homes along the bank reminded us that the bayou threads through many lives, as it has for centuries.
Dogs barked from the bank, unsettled by the odd pageant we made as we floated along.
“You’re almost there,” a woman cheerfully yelled from the water’s edge, unfazed by so many strangers sliding by her backyard. Her greeting told us we’d nearly reached the finish line, then church bells welcomed us to the end of our trip.
If we want visitors to embrace Louisiana’s best places, I thought as we drew in our kayaks, then we should take the time to enjoy them, too.
Email Danny Heitman at [email protected].
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