Vicksburg, A Coincidence, The Natchez Trace

An oxbow lake is a remnant of what was once a loop in the Mississippi.
The river washes away the neck of the loop eventually bypassing the
loop altogether.  There are many along this stretch of the river.

I left Warfield Park and spent the rest of the day is spent pedaling steadily down the road pass a series of small towns. I have crossed the river back into southern Arkansas.  In the town of Eudora I stopped for dinner and read the headlines in the local paper someone left in the booth. The article describes a horrific triple murder in town.  The shooter was still on the loose.  For a town of 2500 that a serious crime.  Yet, as I leave the proprietor warns me about the next town down the road.  "Some advice- don't stop in Lake Providence"  I asked why.  "Its just too dangerous because of the gangs".  I am thinking to myself - I guess a1q triple triple homicide shouldn't be a concern.   I stop in Lake Providence the next morning anyhow for breakfast at a Sonic.  The place is perfectly normal from what I can tell.   Later I cross the state line and I am officially in Louisiana, the last state of my journey.

One of the first towns is interestingly called Transylvania.  It even has a giant bat painted on the water tower.  I decided it would be a good place to post my absentee ballot.  Good postmark.  Once again, I asked two women outside the Post Office how the town got its name. One didn't know but the other said it actually was not a tourist hook as I suspected but rather the name of the original plantation the town was platted on.  The plantation actually predated the  fictional Bram Stoker Dracula story.
After traveling a section of northern Louisiana, my destination is Vicksburg, MS.  To cross the river you have to make a "appointment" with the Vicksburg Bridge Commission if you are on a bicycle.
There are two bridges, one only safe for cars, the other is no longer used at all.  It can't handle the traffic weight.  I  had made my appointment in the morning and now waited to be ferried across.  There is a formidable gate, barriers, cameras and threatening signs around the entrance to prevent guys like me from getting resourceful.
At the appointed hour, an official pick up shows up, a young man in a uniform gets out, opens Fort Knox and loads us up.  I asked him how often they get requests for cyclists to do this crossing.  I am thinking a number per week.  "Oh not more than once every 3 months or so."  Evidentially this is not the most heavily traveled bike trail.
Since Memphis it has been dead level flat. That is until you get to Vickburg.  Suddenly it is really hilly.  The commanding elevation was the reason Vicksburg was chosen by the Confederates as a major strongpoint to control the Mississippi and was the last to fall in a major battle lasting several months. I will spare you the details but basically after several failed attempts by Grant to take the fortifications by force they laid seige to the town for 47 days.  The Confederates finally surrendered rather than starve and the south was effectively cut in half by Union control of the river hastening the end of the war.

The Minnesota Memorial

It is now commemorated by the Vicksburg National Military Park that lies outside of town and spreads across several square miles.  It is the tourism magnet that now supports the Vickburg economy.  I rode around the park for an entire day.  It is considered the world's largest Art Park as it has thousands of sculpted monuments commemorating the efforts of military units from each state that participated. It is quite moving and well maintained by the National Park Service.  I happened across an event being held at the only house that survived the battle.  The Shirley house was owned by Union sympathizers and ended up behind union lines thus was spared.  There were some
re-enactors staffing the restored home.  As I approached, a young woman dressed in period costume spots Murphy in his trailer and is immediately taken in by his handsome guiles, petting him as I tied him up outside.

Katie the "School Marm"

Vicksburg National Military 

 When I returned she was now giving him a belly rub telling me how much she would love a dog like this.  She is the "School Marm" in period character and is actually a local high school senior.  I talked to her at length about her role and later her plans to go to college at the University of Montana in Bozeman.  I am impressed with her refreshing ability to relate to adults despite her age and that she would take an interest in such an activity as a volunteer. Too many 17 years olds would loathe to  cheerfully converse with anyone as ancient as me. I was to later learn her name was Katie.  I moved on to see the remaining 500+ plaques and statues that awaited me.  The park also has an actual civil war iron clad gun boat in an well designed open air exhibit.

The Cairo ironclad

The 14 gun Cairo was sunk by an underwater mine during the siege.  It has the distinction of being the first vessel sunk by such means in history.  It sank in 12 minutes but all 251 men were rescued. It lay on the bottom  of the river forgotten for 100 years.  One day some investigators located it with a compass in a small boat and set in motion the discovery, raising operation,  restoration and exhibit of the boat as well as thousands of personal artifacts that were left behind. It all took decades.

The next day I left Vickburg heading toward the Natchez Trace Parkway.  I was about an hour out when I realized I had forgotten one of my half gallon water bottles back at a gas station in Vickburg.  I had to back track to retrieve it.  Naturally I got another flat tire to add to my frustration and the ongoing 90 degree temperatures had returned making especially miserable. Things were not going my way. The delay meant I would not reach the parkway before dark.  Two and a half hours later I was back on track riding trying to make up time and after 5 miles further down the road I spotted a smart phone laying in the gravel alongside the pavement inches from the passing traffic.  This is the fourth phone I have found that was not already smashed to bits on this trip.  It was a nice Samsung model.  I pushed the "on" button and the screen flickered to life.  Let's see, contacts.  Scroll down, "DAD". Select.  Ringing.  "Hello".  Hi, my name is David Thorpe and I am on a country road south of Vicksburg and I have found a smart phone that must belong to your son or daughter.  "Oh that is great, she has been really upset since she lost it on Friday".  I made arrangements for him to meet me along the road.  I asked him if he could bring a large wrench as I had broke another spoke and needed to remove the rear gear spocket again to replace it.

Katie's Dad Curtis and friend Philip

Curtis shows up 25 minutes later in a pick up. He has on a Park Service volunteer shirt.  I mentioned my visit the day before. He asked me if I had visited the Shirley House. Did I see the re-enactors?
He was the union corporal.  I told him I did not remember the Corporal but I had a very nice conversation with the School Marm.  "Oh yeah, that would be my daughter Katie".  In an incredible coincidence I had found 20 miles away, the intact smart phone of the young lady I had just met yesterday.  Curtis was not able to track down a wrench but he immediately got on his phone, tracked down a friend with one who lived 15 miles further down the road.  I accepted his offer to take us there in his pick up and soon had the repair done. As we drove he half jokingly told me that the state of Mississippi was rated nationally dead last in everything that was good but in things that were bad they were first.  That said he still liked living there.  His friend Philip then ferried me the last 5 miles to a campground right on the Natchez Trace Parkway just at dark.  My miserable luck had changed and I bypassed 20 miles of hilly road that had no shoulder and heavy traffic.

The Natchez Parkway

In contrast, the Natchez Trace Parkway constituted the best 50 miles of the MRT I have ridden.   It was an early travelers pathway that evolved from original Indian trails. Somewhere further north Meriwether Lewis of Lewis and Clark fame had met his fate on the trace.  He was found dead either of suicide or possibly murdered.  A mysterious end for a great explorer.  The trace is now preserved as a beautiful parkway that winds for 444 miles between Nashville and Natchez, Mississippi.  It was made a National Park service unit in 1938. I joined it for the last 50 miles to its southern terminus in Natchez. It is popular with bicyclists as it passes through a verdant bucolic swath lined with majestic southern pines and oaks dripping with spanish moss.  The road is smooth, very little traffic with commercial vehicles and trucks banned.  It even has almost no litter which is remarkable in Mississippi. It is a sweet ride.  It is also free of all commercial development  which means no place to eat for me.  I had to rely on my meager emergency rations.  I hated to see it end but my hunger was a powerful motivator to get to Natchez.

Our tent site along the Natchez Trace the last night