The Natchez Trace Parkway: A Few Thoughts on Its Bike Friendliness

Before we move onto our next adventure getting out of Nashville and on to Bowling Green, KY, I wanted to note a few things about the bike friendliness of the Natchez Trace.  They really sell it as a great place to bike, and in general, it is.  However, there are some things you should know if you're doing a self-supported trip.  There are only three full-service (with running water) campgrounds on the entire Trace and a scant five bike primitive campsites that, as noted before, are not clearly marked.  Also, they should tell you to bring your own food...unless you really want to add miles to your trip.

Water along the Trace can also be an issue.  There are a few additional places besides the full-service campgrounds to get water, but if you don't plan correctly, you could be drinking water you've purified from a Mississippi stream (as our friend Julian had to).  Sorry, but the water in Mississippi was pretty brackish.

Finally, in the section where the drivers are most aggressive (Tupelo), there are no signs indicating that it is state law that drivers give cyclists three feet of room.  You'd think that if it were a problem area, they'd try to make it better for cyclists.  There weren't many Park Rangers driving about, which could help slow some of the drivers, and the few cops I saw were speeding along themselves, without lights ablazing, so I didn't think they were there to make the roads safer for us.

Yet despite all this, it was a really beautiful and pleasant ride.  All the Park Rangers that we spoke with were quite friendly and helpful.  We even got a bike story from one of them.  It's worth the trip, but forewarned is forearmed.

Natchez Trace: May 19th or This Is What It Sounds Like When Quads Cry

Our last day on the Trace - it was foggy and cool in the morning, but it quickly cleared up and turned sunny and warm.

It was mostly a riding day, with lots of hills.  I really put the quads to the test, and thankfully, they didn't fail me...although they hurt a little.  I guess that's to be expected.

Elementary school kids on an annual death march, I mean, fun walk.

Not even on the map!  War of 1812 Memorial .   Amazingly well-written and error-free!

The view from the double arch bridge, where we didn't see the double arches; I think they were saved for the drivers below.  Typical.

A bummer was that there was no 444 mile marker at the end of the Trace; in fact, there was no sign at the actual end of the Trace, it just dumped you onto a highway.  A sign signifying drivers from the north were entering the Trace was some four to five miles in already.  A bit anticlimactic, if you ask me  (Oh National Park Service, please ask me what I think.  Please.)

So I took a photo of this marker, just off the Trace and on the highway...

...in the wrong direction, which my father took us for 2.5 miles.  Yes, an additional 5 miles - just for fun.  I don't know if that was what Faye had in mind when she thought our trip was going to be a great father-daughter experience.  It was pointless to be mad for too long; we just ground our way through some ass-traffic on Highway 100.  Sure, the signs said "Share the road," but the drivers said, "Not interested."  Eventually, though, we got to my friends' place in Nashville (had to find the greenway/bike route between a Target and a Steinmart - nice!) and off our bikes.  The Trace portion of the program is over.  Onto the next portion - stay tuned!

Natchez Trace: May 18th or The First Rule of Bike Camping Is You Don't Talk About Bike Camping

Our motel from the night before

Chad's Restaurant

Sleeping indoors is definitely not overrated, especially if one has endured a number of nights, and mornings, in the rain.  And while it was drizzling Sunday morning, the weather forecast called for clearing skies.

We'd gone to Chad's the night before (remember?  I had the chicken fried steak - still sticking to only one fried meal a day, thank you very much) and as they weren't open Sunday mornings we asked if they might suggest a place for breakfast.  Well, Faye, who happens to be Chad's mom, offered to let us come in for breakfast while she prepared for Sunday lunch.  Really?!  We went over there Sunday morning, and she made eggs and sausage for us.   It was really nice, and then, after we paid and were going to leave, she said something really nice about how she could tell this was a good father-daughter trip.  (I believe I'd set the record straight, as it were, that I was not his peppy younger wife.) Great way to start the day!

The day did turn out to be sunny but with a cool breeze, which was perfect for cycling.  We stopped at the Meriwether Lewis campground and checked out the memorial to him.   There's a "mysterious death" story here, but I haven't gone on to research it.

My BBQ sandwich with some of the best fried okra I've encountered - definitely freshly made.

The trading post - where we had lunch.

Sunday was also the day the road stopped being pretty flat.  In fact, one hill nearly kicked our asses.  Thankfully, halfway up there was a scenic stop.  Yay!  Reason to get off the bike.

Fall Hollow was really nice and gave us a chance to rest our legs.  For the record, it was a mile long hill at a 13 degree grade.   Just sayin'.

Over the past week I've seen a lot of different animals.  Early on it was snakes (mostly dead on the road), and then turtles, lots of birds (cardinals,  blue jays, and these small indigo/purple-winged things - clearly, I'm not a birder), plus wild turkeys, a few deer, and a quail with chicks.  I'd also seen a number of dead armadillos, but then, I saw these -

live, little armadillos just rooting around the leaves.  I have to say, they were pretty damn cute.  The next day a woman at the gas station (mmm, mmm, good) said they carried leprosy.  Not so sure about that.

Finally it was time to set up camp.  Here's something that's a bit tedious about the Trace and its "bike friendliness."  There is a scattering of "bike primitive campsites" (meaning you can pitch a tent, but don't expect a bathroom other than the great outdoors itself) designated with a bike symbol on the map, but the symbol never appears on any of the signage on the parkway itself.  It's kind of like a club - if you don't already know about it, you won't find it.  Thankfully we found ours that night - it was off the Trace, but at least it was there.

Where we spent our last night on the Trace.

And since I know you're waiting for it - here are Sunday's grammar issues:

Care to add a few commas for clarity and flow?

One of my biggest pet peeves - the comma splice!

Natchez Trace: Grammar & Social Commentary

So I've stopped photographing every grammatical mistake I find because, frankly, I'm tired of them.  Here are just a few more.

In addition to finding the grammar or spelling mistakes, my father and I have taken to unpacking the signs for their hidden messages or reinterpretation of history.  At the end of this post, I have uploaded Werner Herzog reading Curious George, which I feel is along the lines of what we try to do.  Enjoy!

Are they referring to multiple storekeepers or was it just one?  And does anyone possess anything?  Also, what's up with that last sentence?

Where, oh where, are the commas we need here?

Some spelling mistakes are carved in stone... guess the Daughters of the American Revolution couldn't afford a proofreader.

It's really nice that "Americans" could travel safely through Indian land.

Uh, by "other men" do you mean poor men? Not unlike prison populations today.

Hi, kids!  Today's lessons is on connotation - what do you think the opinion is of "Indians" in the first sentence?

Natchez Trace: May 17th - Three States, One Day

Tennessee River

Natchez Trace: May 16th

We've seen lots of fallen trees, but this one was unique

Indian Burial Mounds

Petroleum barge on the Tenn-Tom Waterway

Tenn-Tom Waterway

Natchez Trace: May 15th

(most of the 14th images were in the "What Day Is It Post?" or will be in the grammar update to follow)

Lots of beautiful flowers and lots of thistles.

Halfway up the Trace!

At first we thought this was where we were going to eat...

But this place was across the street and actually open.

Natchez Trace - What Day Is It?

That's right - WiFi is not everywhere, especially not on the Trace.  But tonight we're staying at a motel in Collinwood, Tennessee - a motel with two rooms for rent.  Here's our room.  It's kind of unreal but in a good and welcomed way.

We spent last night in Tishomingo State Park.  We awoke to rain at 5am, but we both pretended it wasn't happening and dozed on and off until about 7am when we had to face reality.  Then we stayed in the tent until about 7:30 before we decided we'd have to suck it up and break down camp in the rain.  Staying at the campground another night would've been just too bleak, plus all we had for food were some peanut butter crackers, four hard boiled eggs, and some granola bars.  We ended up, however, having a good cycling day - cool with surprisingly little rain.

Speaking of food - we seem to be on an epic "How much are you willing to eat from a gas station?" trip.  In fact, I'm logging down every gas station meal.  Yesterday we had breakfast at our Warmshowers.org host's house in Tupelo so that was an actual meal, but we had lunch at a gas station (shared a slice of double pepperoni pizza and a cheeseburger - yes, I ate a cheeseburger from a gas station.  Oh, how my standards have...changed) and dinner from a gas station (three grilled chicken sandwiches and, believe it or not, two jalapeño poppers, plus some Sam Adams - seemingly the one beer you can count on in a sea of Bud Light, Busch Light and various other blue cans).  I think at the end of the trip I will just do a post with a tally of the "meals."  Tonight, thankfully, had a great meal at a real restaurant (although they don't serve beer - some of my standards have not changed): chicken fried steak for me and smothered chicken for Dad.

The day before yesterday, as we were getting off the Trace for lunch (near Tupelo), a woman in a silver Mercedes sports coupe pulled up to my dad, rolled down her window, and asked my father, "Do you know how many people have been killed doing what you're doing?"  My father answered, "No."  She replied, "Well, I'm just letting you know."  Nice.  Real nice.  I kind of wanted to ask her, "Do you know how many people those things (cars) have killed?"  We spoke to a park ranger yesterday who was annoyed by that because, while no cyclist death is acceptable, there have been maybe three deaths in the last five years and that kind of attitude isn't helpful.  I will say, the traffic around Tupelo was the most aggressive we've experienced on the Trace.

We stayed in Tupelo that night with Rufus, a Warmshowers.org host.   We ate well in Tupelo, at a place called South, and after dinner, Rufus drove us by Elvis's birthplace, which was enough of a tour for us both.

Natchez Trace Day 2 or We're Going to Jackson

All day I had this song in my head because I knew it was where we were headed (we actually stayed in Ridgeland, just a bit outside Jackson).

Our accommodations from the night before.

It was a hot one yesterday - according to the weather report, it was 90F, and we rode around 55 miles (supposedly a short day - hah!).  I think it'd barely gotten above 50 when I left Hamilton, and that was just a few weeks ago.  In addition to water & butt breaks (as I call them...and need them), we took a shade break.  We might luck out with an afternoon thunderstorm today - huzzah!

Morning visitor at the campsite

My father and I have worked out the food issue, and today's lunch was courtesy of Big Daddy's BBQ - housed in a gas station.

My father thinks that a beer bottle in a paper bag is subtle; I just drank my Bud sitting on the curb.  Now that's subtle.

Dare I say it?  My ribs are better.

Have I mentioned how beautiful it is?  It's pretty amazing.

And yesterday's grammar issue was comma usage:

Either you get rid of the comma before Greenwood or you add one afterward.  You cannot split the difference.

Natchez Trace Day 1 or One Person's Frappucino Is Another Person's Vienna Sausage

After a solid breakfast at the Holiday Inn Express we made our way to the Natchez Trace Parkway.  Unfortunately we totally missed the Visitor's Centre where we might've purchased the bike book because it wasn't on the Parkway itself but on a highway leading to it.  Thanks!

It was a beautiful morning, and it was so nice to be on a road where the cars give you a wide berth without shooting you resentful looks as they pass you.  We only saw two other cyclists yesterday (clearly day trippers - are you paying attention to the hierarchy?) but got waves from motorcyclists on the route.

My father and I had both eaten early - he before he went to 8am Mass, I just shortly thereafter - and didn't leave the hotel until almost 10:30 so by about an hour into the ride, I was wondering where we were going to have lunch.  We pulled into one of the historic sites, Mount Locust, and it was then that I found out that food was few and far between and not on the Trace.

Let me go back a month or so before we started on this trip.  I sent my father a couple of emails suggesting that we carry just a small camp stove so we might have coffee in the morning.  Oh, no, no, no.  No need for that.  We'll just get coffee on the road.  Lesson here?  Trust your intuition.

Thankfully the ranger had a list of services off various mile markers on the Trace although they weren't always close or convenient.  Needless to say, I was pissed.  Clearly my father's and my need for food differ.  The ranger did suggest a place another 15 miles up the Trace and two miles off it (yes, that means 4 extra miles!) that had an all-you-can-eat buffet with the best fried chicken.  It could've been corn dogs for all I cared at that point.  So off we pedaled, in somewhat stony silence, to Mr. Dee's.

It actually was really good (although not ad hoc good - sorry!), and I ate my share of fried chicken, stewed okra, collard greens, and macaroni and cheese.  Good thing, too, because for dinner I had beef jerky, three Samuel Adams', and a Fig Newton.  My father had spicy Vienna Sausages, three Samuel Adams', and a Fig Newton.  Okay, I tried two Vienna Sausages - they have the weirdest texture but desperate times call for desperate measures.

We set up camp after a day of cycling 64 or so miles.  We had a little rain on our way home from Mr. Dee's, but nothing apocalyptic.  I made a fire, we played cribbage, and then did our best to wash up in the park bathroom.  Lights out by 10:30pm.

In the morning, I drank a Frappucino I'd purchased at the gas station when I was shopping for "dinner."  I offered my father a swig, which he took, and then said "One man's Frappucino is another man's Vienna Sausage."

A side project is finding misspellings or poor grammar on the National Park Service signs.  Yesterday's find was this:

Really?  You didn't think to spellcheck this before carving it into wood?  I have the feeling a little White-Out is not going to fix this one.