Trip Journal Post 8: Days 29- 35

Day 29: Return to Baton Rouge (0 miles) It was an uneventful flight into Baton Rouge. After deplaning I walked the .5 mile to the Supreme Inn across the street and checked in. I also contacted Dave from Dave's mobile bike repair (the links been added) to arrange the return of the Koga. I had contacted Dave in the middle of a crisis; His response was priceless. He drove up to New Roads (30 miles away), collected me and the bike, dropped me at the motel across from the airport, and stored the bike while I was gone. Dave and his wife dropped it by the motel this evening and, after a short visit, I began to repack for the first day.
Day 30: Baton Rouge to Centreville, MS (71 miles) After a hardy continental breakfast I left the motel at 7AM. I wasn't hungry in St. Francesville so I rode the ferry back to New Roads and came right back. I just needed to complete the circuit as part of my mourning process. Between getting to the ferry and eating in Jackson, it added 6 miles to the trip. The next section was dense forest with occasional fan palms and a sprinkling of wild flowers. I entered Mississippi right after Norwood, but it was with a flat tire. When I noticed the flat I just limped it over the state line to make the repairs. That night I stayed at Rose Hall, a BnB in Centreville, and enjoyed both dinner and breakfast with owners, John and Jacque.
Day 31: Centreville to Port Gibson, MS. (92 miles) Right after leaving the town of Centreville, I spent the next 2 hours being chased by dogs. It was 46 miles into Natchez, and after lunch the course merges onto the Natchez Trace Parkway. The Trace doesn't allow commercial vehicles and I quickly learned there usually isn't much traffic either. The trees are packed tightly with little sun penetrating to the forest floor. The humidity is now so high that my evaporation system can't keep up.
Day 32: Port Gibson to Ridgeland, MS. (71 miles) While eating breakfast from a nearby gas station, I laundered all my bike clothes. The Trace is a bikers delight. There are some places under construction, but, as in life, it makes us steer a narrower course. The humidity and yesterdays mileage has sapped my energy. I rode 46 miles before finding a place to eat. Once I arrived in Clinton, I had to ride off course several miles to find a restaurant. It worked out well though with a post office across the street, as I needed to ship my other bike seat home and the seat post back to Commuter Bikes. If you have been wondering why I quit talking about the bike seat problems, it's because the leather Brooks saddle has been working very well. I started rubbing conditioner into the surface while on the flight out here and continue to soften the leather daily. It might look exceedingly uncomfortable, but, in fact, it's no wonder that so many people swear by them. Concern for my rear end is no longer an issue! I rode another 14 miles into Ridgeland, MS.
Day 33: Ridgeland to Kosciusko, MS (60 miles) Something is amuck with the medial side of my right quad at the knee. After three days I'd hoped to find my rhythm again, but the sharp knee pain isn't helping. I continue on the Trace until Nashville, TN. Forced to slow the pace, I spent the day stopping to see the posted sights. My favorite was a Cypress swamp. It was soothing to the soul to see the sights and reflections surrounding the swamp, and to hear the odd array of unfamiliar sounds. There was a wooden foot bridge suspended over the water, and as I walked across another visitor pointed out a 6' alligator cruising through the mossy water within my reach. It stopped to stare and afforded me a great photo opportunity! By mid-afternoon my knee threatened mutiny so I limped into Kosciusko, MS. I readjusted my seat slightly lower since it could be the cause. And maybe a shorter day will help.
Day 34: Kosciusko to Witch Dance Campground (74 miles) The cool morning was a welcome relief from the afternoon heat and humidity. I headed to French Camp, MS., where I hoped to enjoy a hearty breakfast, but when I arrived 22 miles later, everything was closed. Oddly enough there was an open laundromat right near the Trace where I dried yesterdays wet clothes. Thirteen miles later I had one of my freeze dried dinner packets for lunch at a gas station at Jeff Bugby Park. It really hit the spot, but my knee was giving me grief once again. The searing pain has not returned. The goal of Tupelo at 103 miles receded into the distance though. I was more than pleased to strike a primitive camp at Witch Dance picnic area. Supposedly witches once danced there and no grass would grow where their feet touched. They must have danced as much as I have because I camped on a beautiful stretch of turf! I took some pictures of the Old Trace Trail today. I doubt they will do it justice, for it's like a freeway cut out of the forest much like the one in the Last of the Mohicans. It strange to tread where the likes of Fernando De Soto and the "Kaintucks" have gone so long before! For those of you interested in the Trace, it was a series of Indian trails eventually turned into a postal route and used by the flat boatmen traveling down the Mississippi as their route home.
Day 35: Witch Dance to Tupelo, MS (36 miles) I was up with the sun, packed quickly, and was on the road within 30 minutes. Pedaling slowly to give my knee proper warm-up time, it started pinging immediately. Thirty miles later I took the first exit into Tupelo, convinced the ideal breakfast was just around the corner, only to find the first Starbucks since I left Phoenix. Naturally that warranted a prolonged stop where I visited with the manager, who bought my coffee, and with two local park rangers who made a recommendation to ride another 6 miles to the next exit where everything I required would be at hand. It was a cornucopia of restaurants, a great motel, theaters, and a mall. The motel has a lobby computer available where I have updated the site and done my required banking, since I seem to spend so many more days in motels than I expected! Tomorrow is a leisure day while I hope to give my knee recovery time.