October 17, 2021
Day Eight: Kosciusko, Mississippi to Raymond, Mississippi
It was cold again this morning. As I walked across the street to a gas station to purchase my morning Diet Pepsi and some snacks for the road, my teeth were chattering.
By the time I rode away, with my raincoat and ear warmers on, it was after 8:30, and the sun was out. It had warmed up a few degrees.
Only a few hundred feet into the ride, I stood up on the bike and violently dropped the chain.
A voice called out "I hate it when that happens!"
It was an older man on a lightly loaded bike. He told me he was on his way to New Orleans, had camped "in the woods" last night, and was now in search of breakfast. I talked to him for a few minutes, and surmised that he was the cyclist riding from Minnesota that I'd heard about at the McDonald's in Dover, Tennessee on day two of this trip.
I got back on the Natchez Trace Parkway, where it was more of the same: Trees and fields. Much flatter than the northern sections.
I stopped at a rest area, sat at a picnic table, and ate a healthy breakfast.
It was still early enough on a Sunday morning that traffic was light, even though I was slowly approaching the busiest portion of the Parkway.
A large group of cyclists approached in a tight, double paceline. I threw up my hand in a wave, but none of them acknowledged me. I was annoyed by this, so I called out sarcastically "HELLO ROADIES! HELLO ROADIES!"
They continued to stare down at their stems with furrowed brows, concentrating intensely. Serious business.
Traffic picked up as I approached the Ross R. Barnett Reservoir, which I rode alongside for several miles. A nice change of scenery.
Traffic was really picking up now. I glanced to my left and noticed bike/pedestrian path. I rode onto it.
I followed the path for a couple of miles. It was a welcome break from the Parkway.
The path appeared to end, though, so I got back on the Parkway to find that the traffic had perhaps quintupled. What a nightmare. I'd heard about how bad it could be through Ridgeland, but this was far worse than I'd expected. Obviously locals were using the Parkway as an alternative to the nearby interstate.
Then I glanced to my right and saw, several feet down the embankment, another bike/pedestrian path, or perhaps the same one I'd been on earlier, but had exited prematurely. I rode down the grassy embankment to the path. I stopped a local cyclist who confirmed that the path paralleled the Parkway for five or six miles, and that I could avoid the worst of the Parkway traffic by using it. Great!
The next several miles were enjoyable. The trail finally ended abruptly though, so I walked around the barrier, through some tall grass for several hundred feet, then down into a ditch, and then back up to the Parkway, where traffic had thinned considerably from the worst section through Ridgeland, but was still annoying.
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I was sick of the Parkway now, so it was a relief to finally exit it and ride for three or four miles on country roads to my destination for the day, the town or Raymond (population 1,933.)
Upon arrival I looked around the town square, then had an early dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I was concerned that the size of the vegetarian plate I ordered might be too small, so I ordered two of them. The waitress wryly expressed doubts that I could finish both of them - and they were larger than I expected - but I proved her wrong.
The waitress asked where I was from, and then volunteered that she'd been to Kentucky once, and that 1) No one there knew how to properly prepare grits, and 2) They didn't understand how to make proper "ice tea" either. I just laughed and agreed that she was probably right.
At the grocery store next door where I purchased multiple Little Debbie products, a large woman working there stared at me (still in cycling clothes), then asked "Can I ask yew a question?" [pregnant pause] "Do you ride a bicycle? How do you do it?" I laughed and told her that it gets easier the more you do it.
Today's ride: 83 miles (134 km)
Total: 627 miles (1,009 km)
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And I agree with your server--the best iced tea is made in the deep south. Kentucky isn't deep enough.
3 years ago
What's next? For sure I'm going to cross the Mississippi the day after tomorrow (I'm staying in Natchez tomorrow and not riding), and check out Louisiana, which I've never ridden in.
3 years ago