Day 1: Natchez Trace Self Contained Ride

Rising early at our hotel in Brookhaven, my wife Helen drove me to Natchez, MS. Glen Wanner’s excellent guide book “Bicycling the Natchez Trace” purchased on Amazon put the start of the Natchez Trace at the corner of MLK and State Streets in Natchez. I opted rather to drive the city streets in Wanner’s book until we came to the actual parkway entrance.

At an Exxon gas station near the parkway entrance, I unpacked my bike, Yak BOB (Beast of Burden) and gear from our car and loaded it onto my bike. With gear packed, a last-minute hug, a kiss, “have a great ride” encouragement from lovely wife and I was on my way by 10:00am.

Mile 1: The Trace road surface is excellent; smooth and without road seams. There is NO shoulder the entire length of the Trace. However, traffic is pretty light and cars generally took a wide berth when passing.

Road mileage markers faithfully appear every mile on the right side of the Trace as you ride north. Historic markers also appear with regularity. I used these historic markers as “surprise rest stops” and as an opportunity to slowly drink in the rich history of the Trace.

Mile 10.3: Took a 2-mile round trip detour to visit the Emerald Mounds. The road surface down to the mounds was extremely rutted and rough. This little detour was well worth the slow and difficult braking required to descend the road.

These mounds were once a central part of a large village complex inhabited during the Mississippian Era from 1300 – 1600. It was hard to visualize from these empty and worn grassy mounds the active and bustling society that so long ago labored to construct these earthen mounds. As I stood atop the main mound, I thought about all the Native American Indians who toiled, lived and died in the shadow of this very mound, but never ascended to its top. I was now a welcomed tourist and even provided the convenience of wooden steps and a handrail to assist my assent. I clicked a few more pictures and then resumed my bike ride.

Mile 15.5: Mt. Locust is one of the original inns or stands, as they were called, that remains from the early days of the Trace. Mt. Locust is a must-see stop on any tour. Built in 1780, this simple inn serviced Trace travelers until foot traffic on the Trace diminished by 1825. Mt Locust then became the plantation homestead for five generations of the Chamberlain family. The inn/homestead was restored by the National Park Service to its rustic feel of 1820.

Mt. Locust is a simple home. Staring into the open eating area with a table set for dinner, one could imagine Kaintucks walking homeward on the Trace sitting about the table swapping stories of deeds both true and fanciful. No electricity, no running water, no A/C, no Internet, iPad.

I also visited the slave cemetery a short walk from the house. Only one grave marker remains, but the names of those buried are listed on nearby signage. The visit added to my growing appreciation of the many unrecorded stories surrounding the Trace of real people doing ordinary things.

Back on my bike, I settled into a steady pace beneath overhanging trees draped in Spanish moss. Although this southern section of the Trace is generally flat with very moderate rolling hills, I felt as though I was on a slow climb upward. Nothing difficult, only a sense of a steady slow climb.

Mile 37.5: I planned to have lunch in Port Gibson and followed Wanner’s direction to exit the Trace at MS 61. Generally, I found Wanner’s off-Trace direction less than satisfying. I followed his directions to turn right before “going under the NTP (Natchez Trace Parkway)” and found myself on old Highway 61. Signage off the Trace is spotty and I never quite figured out how to map Wanner’s directions to my riding reality. But I had an adventure riding through a poor working class section of Mississippi. I asked twice if the road headed into Port Gibson. “Yes” was the answer so I continued. I was in search of water and lunch and nothing in the neighborhoods in which I was riding would provide those services.

I used my Blackberry GPS to get my bearings when I was at the junction of 61 and 594. By now I had given up on following Wanner’s directions and focused my attention on finding water, a store or small restaurant. Near my location was a small health facility and I figured they had water. Parking my bike outside the facility, I pushed open the door, wandered a bit until Nurse Rachael asked if she could help me. This was a small facility and the patients were old and infirmed. What I soon discovered was that an angel of grace and care in the person of Nurse Rachael walked among them.

I explained my need for water. Nurse Rachel motioned me to an ice machine where I filled my water bottles. When I asked where a store or restaurant could be found, she paused and responded “Wait here” and the disappeared for a few moments.

Upon her return she re-located me to the nurse’s cafeteria where a sandwich, bag of chips and cold drinks were waiting. My many “thanks” were answered with “I am a 100% nurse!” and so she is. Amen!

As I rode highway 61 back to the Trace, I noticed that if I had not followed Wanner’s direction to turn before going under the NTP,

but rather went straight under the Trace bridge, that a service station was just short distance down highway 61. It would have been a far shorter journey for water, but one with far less adventure and I wouldn't have been touched by an angel.

Mile 41.3: Took MS 18 toward Port Gibson just to see what was “down the road.” MS 18 is a busy road with a rumpled shoulder. After 1.5 miles, I came to intersection with a number of service stations and small stores. My campsite at Rocky Springs was 13+ miles away and I was unsure of the water supply that I might find (or not find) there. I filled my water bottles and the two one-liter soda bottles I carried on my BOB as my reserve.

Back on the Trace, the landscape opened to fields of rolled hay. There was less tree overhang. It was, however, a perfect fall weather day…no heat and little wind. The ride to Rocky Springs again felt uphillish, but again, nothing terrible. I was getting tired on this first day.

Mile 54.8: As I pulled into the National Park Service Rocky Springs campground, I noticed that the ranger station at the campground entrance was opened, but not manned. There was information on the campground layout, bathrooms, water supply and guest registry book. I rode about and saw there were plenty of open campground sites. I pulled into a level site with a picnic table near the comfort station (bath rooms). Dave, the campground host, greeted me and shared that due to the dry conditions campfires were not allowed, but confirmed the use of my Whisper Lite camp stove was okay. He also noted the dry conditions kept the “locals” away this weekend day.

Among my concerns on this my maiden voyage on the Trace was how crowded campsites might be. I have had experiences on other self-SAG rides entering campgrounds only to be told that all spots were taken. Fortunately, I never encountered any of the Trace campsites anywhere near capacity. If such an occurrence had come to pass, the denizens of these campgrounds are gracious. I am sure accommodations for a cyclist would be found.

It was now 6:00pm and I settled in for dinner. Dinner was a foil bag of chicken, Ramen noodles (without the flavor pack) mixed with dry Lipton chicken noodle soup mix. After dinner I scribed my ride notes sipping on an International decaffeinated coffee drink.

I had checked with Dave if bears were a problem in the campground. “No” was his answer, but raccoons were frequent visitors. I hung my food bag from a tree that night. I was extremely careful not to have food in my tent.

Experiences on un-developed Cumberland Island off the coast of Georgia showed me how resourceful raccoons can be. During this ride, I would hang my food bag in a camp comfort station or wrap my food bags in one or two plastic bags and hang the food inside the heavy metal gauge camp garbage cans.

In the middle of night, I was glad I had taken food precautions when the howl of coyotes filled the air. I typically selected a campsite near the comfort station. Such campsites provided easy to access to water and bathroom facilities, a beacon to find one’s campsite after an evening stroll and usually off the perimeter of the campground where the coyotes tend to congregate.

Another precaution I took was to self administered an Advil PM with dinner. I have no history of knee problems, aliments on century rides or problems on week-long organized rides. However, I was on my own now and did not want even the smallest muscle/stress problem to grow to debilitating situation later in the week.
Total Mileage: 67 / avg unknown