I have eaten enough shrimp to get my cholesterol up to the point where my blood is the consistency of mayonnaise. I had to get out of Louisiana while my butt still fit on my bike.
So on Wednesday the rain was moving out and so was I. My sister let me park the tow vehicle at her house and I saddled up my three legged mule. It was time to let the horses run.
I headed north up the Mississippi River on my way to Natchez. I wandered around through all of the cypress bayous and ante bellum homes on the old plantations as I made my way north. From where I started in Thibodaux, pretty much everything is North.
I did pass by Alcorn State in Mississippi which was made somewhat famous by the late Steve McNair. Sad that he had to go the way he did. Shot to death by an ugly woman. That is just wrong.
I want to go quietly in my sleep like my grandfather. Not yelling and screaming like all of the people on the bus he was driving.
Okay my mind is drifting again…
In Natchez I got on the Natchez Trace scenic byway. This is a stretch of road that runs about 440 miles from Natchez, Mississippi to Nashville, Tenn. Long ago this route was used by the Indians to get from one casino to the other. ( I could be wrong about this) Now the sole purpose of this road is driving pleasure. It does not go any where that you couldn’t get to easier some other way. It is only open to recreational traffic. No trucks are allowed. It is silky smooth through beautiful woods and meadows. There are no services available at all. If you need gas, you need to leave the trace. The speed limit is 50 so if you are in a hurry this is not the road for you.
I rode on this almost the entire day. I saw one thing that could pass for a pot hole. I saw three small pieces of litter in 260 miles. There is no shoulder on this road. There is just well maintained grass right up to the edge of the pavement. There is virtually no traffic. The trees form a canopy overhead so it is very cool to ride in the shade underneath. I puttered along a lot of the time with the throttle lock on and my hands folded over my chest. It was very relaxing.
My 3 legged mule
But after 8.5 hours and 460 miles I was ready to turn in. There are few places to get off of the trace and find lodging for the night but I got off in Tupelo for the evening. Elvis was born in Tupelo. Machine Gun Kelly robbed his last bank here. And now Bob Naquin has slept here. That could be important some day.