Northport to New Orleans, Day Three
The Trace through Jackson has been complete less than a year. Now you don’t have to exit in Jackson and meander your way to the other side of the city to pick up the Trace again. I begin Day Three on this new section.
At Rocky Springs at Milepost 55 I stop at the first of five areas where I will leave a bit of Sherry. You know, Sherry would die (poor choice of words, but you know what I mean) if she knew I was sharing this information. Sherry was an extremely private person. Many of my friends never even met her. To them she was just a pleasant voice on the telephone saying, "Larry's out riding, but I'll tell him you called."
Throughout our life together Sherry let me and encouraged me to pursue all my interests. She was a "loner," and I think enjoyed this time to herself. For much of her life she suffered from clinical depression and many times preferred the "aloneness" to having me or anyone else around. A friend of mine described our lives together as parallel -- each of us doing things apart from the other. But Sherry was a pretty good SAG driver. Very low maintenance. When we went on a trip all she needed were several mystery paperbacks and a crossword puzzle book. If a casino was around that would even be better. I would try to arrange many of our excursions to include casinos for her and plenty of riding roads (or trails) for me.
Sherry was a bit time challenged, directionally challenged and "casino" challenged. One example of this I call the "Philadelphia Story." Once when we were at the Silver Star Casino in Philadelphia, Mississippi, I decided to start biking toward home with plans for her to pick me up along the way. I laid out the route for her and told her the time she needed to leave in order to find me after I had completed about a 60-mile ride.
I began looking back around mile 50. Of course I had padded the time, knowing her "challenges." I continued looking around for the next 50 to 70 miles. No Sherry. I was worried -- but what to do? I kept going and arrived at my home in Northport. As I was walking in the house I heard the telephone ringing. It was Sherry. In an enthusiastic voice she said, "Hey honey, you made it, I started winning, I'll see you in a few hours."
I was stunned to say the least. As I stood there speechless I was relieved she was OK and kind of excited I’d made a 140-mile bike trip.
My next stop on Day Three is in Port Gibson just off the Trace. This small town’s claim to fame is that during the Civil War General Grant crossed the Mississippi River here on his quest to begin the siege of Vicksburg. The town, he said, was "too beautiful to burn." Many antebellum homes and churches still exist in Port Gibson as a result.
My second stop to sprinkle ashes is at the Bernheimer Bed and Breakfast in Port Gibson. Just off to the side of the veranda in the azaleas. A fitting location. Afterward I sit and drink iced tea (the other universal drink) with the B&B owner and talk over good times.
Natchez is the end of Day Three, which took me some 115 miles. Natchez is a beautiful town with old homes, a casino and great restaurants. It kinda reminds you of a small New Orleans without the smell. The terminus of the Natchez Trace is here. After I pull into the Isle of Capri Casino Hotel I cajole with the desk clerk to give me the "players club rate" since my wife had been a casino player member. I hesitate when she asks if my wife is with me. After a moment I simply reply, "In spirit." She gives me the player's club rate.
Lesson from Day Three: Don't lie to the motel desk clerk.
The Trace through Jackson has been complete less than a year. Now you don’t have to exit in Jackson and meander your way to the other side of the city to pick up the Trace again. I begin Day Three on this new section.
At Rocky Springs at Milepost 55 I stop at the first of five areas where I will leave a bit of Sherry. You know, Sherry would die (poor choice of words, but you know what I mean) if she knew I was sharing this information. Sherry was an extremely private person. Many of my friends never even met her. To them she was just a pleasant voice on the telephone saying, "Larry's out riding, but I'll tell him you called."
Throughout our life together Sherry let me and encouraged me to pursue all my interests. She was a "loner," and I think enjoyed this time to herself. For much of her life she suffered from clinical depression and many times preferred the "aloneness" to having me or anyone else around. A friend of mine described our lives together as parallel -- each of us doing things apart from the other. But Sherry was a pretty good SAG driver. Very low maintenance. When we went on a trip all she needed were several mystery paperbacks and a crossword puzzle book. If a casino was around that would even be better. I would try to arrange many of our excursions to include casinos for her and plenty of riding roads (or trails) for me.
Sherry was a bit time challenged, directionally challenged and "casino" challenged. One example of this I call the "Philadelphia Story." Once when we were at the Silver Star Casino in Philadelphia, Mississippi, I decided to start biking toward home with plans for her to pick me up along the way. I laid out the route for her and told her the time she needed to leave in order to find me after I had completed about a 60-mile ride.
I began looking back around mile 50. Of course I had padded the time, knowing her "challenges." I continued looking around for the next 50 to 70 miles. No Sherry. I was worried -- but what to do? I kept going and arrived at my home in Northport. As I was walking in the house I heard the telephone ringing. It was Sherry. In an enthusiastic voice she said, "Hey honey, you made it, I started winning, I'll see you in a few hours."
I was stunned to say the least. As I stood there speechless I was relieved she was OK and kind of excited I’d made a 140-mile bike trip.
My next stop on Day Three is in Port Gibson just off the Trace. This small town’s claim to fame is that during the Civil War General Grant crossed the Mississippi River here on his quest to begin the siege of Vicksburg. The town, he said, was "too beautiful to burn." Many antebellum homes and churches still exist in Port Gibson as a result.
My second stop to sprinkle ashes is at the Bernheimer Bed and Breakfast in Port Gibson. Just off to the side of the veranda in the azaleas. A fitting location. Afterward I sit and drink iced tea (the other universal drink) with the B&B owner and talk over good times.
Natchez is the end of Day Three, which took me some 115 miles. Natchez is a beautiful town with old homes, a casino and great restaurants. It kinda reminds you of a small New Orleans without the smell. The terminus of the Natchez Trace is here. After I pull into the Isle of Capri Casino Hotel I cajole with the desk clerk to give me the "players club rate" since my wife had been a casino player member. I hesitate when she asks if my wife is with me. After a moment I simply reply, "In spirit." She gives me the player's club rate.
Lesson from Day Three: Don't lie to the motel desk clerk.
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