October 17, 2018
Last Day
Day Seven: Houston, MS to Kosciusco, MS
It was chilly this morning, but it wasn't raining. Breakfast was some junk food in my room before I rode out of the motel parking lot, then past a gas station that advertised "Chix" fried chicken, the greasy odor of which made me slightly sick as I rode by, then past the Wal Mart, and then onto some quiet, dog-free, traffic-free country roads until I rejoined the Natchez Trace Parkway.
There was very little traffic this morning. I'd already decided that if the traffic level was as high as it was in and around Tupelo yesterday, then I would abandon the Trace for back roads, and take my chances with the dogs. But this morning, and the entire day, was very pleasant. Pleasant but a little boring - there really is just not that much to see except trees. A few days in a row of this kind of riding is as much as I want, I think.
I spent time pondering the large number of anthills along the side of the road and pulling over to read the occasional historic information sign.
I saw a van with road bikes mounted on top, and pulled off to talk to a guy who was conducting a supported ride of the Trace from south to north. I asked him if any of the riders rode in yesterday's cold rain, and he laughed and said that a few did, most were in the van with him.
The sun struggled to come out a few times, but it remained overcast much of the day. The temperatures never seemed to get above the low 60s, and I never took off my rain jacket, although I did eventually remove the ear warmers, which was nice. I could actually hear the birds now.
I exited at one of the picnic areas and had an amusing conversation with a motorcyclist. The large, jocular man was dumbfounded by the idea of traveling by "pedal bike", and had many questions for me. While we were talking, some serious, Lycra-clad roadies pulled in on expensive custom-made bicycles, and the motorcyclist managed to pull them into the conversation, even though I could detect the reluctance of the roadies to talk to a motorcyclist (or me, for that matter.)
Back on the road, I was getting bored in the tunnel of trees, and exited to check out a small community just off the Trace. There wasn't much there except for a school, a couple of churches, and a closed country store.
Later I stopped at the village of French Camp (population 174), which was a bit of a tourist trap. At a cafe/gift shop I had an expensive, nearly inedible sandwich, the disappointment of which was lessened by the good bowl of potato soup that was served with it. While I was there I had a nice conversation with Paul and Amy Lindley, a couple of cyclists from Texas,
As I rode away from French Camp, I decided it was time to go home. Work and other responsibilities were starting to encroach on my little spontaneous adventure, and I felt like I'd gotten what I wanted from the last days of riding - a chance to get away from my desk and get outside on the bike and see some new scenery. The next town, Kosciusko, appeared to be large enough to have a couple of U-Haul places where I might be able to rent a small truck to drive home in.
The rest of the ride to the outskirts of Kosciusko (population 7,402) was easy. I got the last room at the less terrible-looking of the two motels, then had dinner at the nearby Mexican restaurant, then semi-successfully attempted to use the U-Haul website to reserve a ten-foot truck in town for tomorrow.
Today's ride: 79 miles (127 km)
Total: 520 miles (837 km)
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