The Emerald Mound
The Sunken Trace
The Natchez Trace after the rain
Ride Statistics
From Natchez to Vicksburg
Distance 85- rode 50
travel time 5 1/2 hours
ride time 4 hours
speed average 12.9 mph
After a fraught couple of miles of road construction in downtown Natchez, we finally wended our way onto the Natchez Trace National Parkway where we would be riding for 64 out of the day's journey of 85 miles.
The original Natchez Trace was a 500 mile long trail running through Choctaw and Chickasaw lands from Nashville, Tennessee to Natchez, Mississippi. First a game trail, and then a trade trail for the Native American tribes, it finally became the way that traders, who brought goods down the Mississippi River, walked home after selling their goods and boats. Over the years, many portions of the path became worn down into the ground, providing ideal sites for local highway robbers to lurk and spring down upon unwary travellers, carrying their profits back up the river. The trail crossed through dense woods, sucking swamps and rivers, making the journey both dangerous and difficult. The Natchez Trace Scenic highway runs along the original trace from Natchez north.
About three miles into the ride on the trace, the skies opened. There was a quick scramble among some of the riders, still grouped in early morning bunches, to break out rain coats and covers. Because the temperature was warm, I opted to continue riding and so ended up riding retty much solo. I found a comfortable cadence and settled in for the ride. About 10 miles later the rain stopped, but not before my socks, shoes and gloves were soaked. Since the road was relatively level and I was making good progress, I decided to make a side trip a couple of miles off the main road to visit the Emerald Mound, the second largest mound temple in the United States.
When I arrived, I was the only person on the site,which was still swathed in mist from the morning rain. It was oppresively quiet and almost eerie. I took advantage of a viewing bench to wring out my gloves and socks and pour the water out of my shoes, as well as dry off my sunglasses. I climbed to the top and stood just listening to the silence, an occasional faint bird song and the drip of the easing rain on the leaves. As I was leaving several other visitors pulled up and there was some interested comment on the other woman riders they had seen, who we were, where we were going and why. As usual, the comment and reaction were equally split between being appalled at the distances and logistics involved and admiration for the women over 50 who are able to attempt such a ride, let alone any portion of it. For me, this was going to be my third day of going further and riding longer than I ever had before, except for the previous two days, so those comments were particularly gratifying
Back on the Trace once again, the sun came out completely and the wind of my steady cadence dried me out. The ride was mostly very peaceful, little traffic and no trucks of any sort since commercial vehicles are not allowed on the highway.
At one point, a couple of large travel homes passed me, each blasting their horn unnecessarily as they pulled even with me. When that happens, I try to be forgiving and think that drivers who do that are trying to be friendly but as I shy off the shoulder onto the verge, it certainly doesn't feel friendly Since the highway was a four lane highway and there was no other traffic, there was certainly no need to drive me onto the shoulder even though that is what the honking did. I guess the moral is that if you can't honk nicely- two short beeps if very friendly- it is better not to honk at all, especially when a bike rider is involved.
The road, although wide and smooth was also sly and very deceptive. Although it appeared flat, it was actually doing a very slow and steady climb. Even when I could have sworn I was going downhill, I was pedaling hard and not gaining speed so I guess I was still climbing. When I talked to other riders at the SAG stop, several were convinced that they had had their brakes on the entire distance, or at least that was how it had felt.
The visit to the Sunken Trace at mile 45 was a moving experience. When I first arrived, there was no one else there so I was able to go down into the sunken part and walk in the shadowy depth of the trace. It was easy to imagine how dangerous the trip north must have been for foot weary travellers.
The rest of the ride along the trace was equally peaceful. No more trailers and only one car passed. I saw some wild turkeys poking along the edge of the woods, and the butterflies and songbirds were out in force after the rain.
I was feeling a bit weary from three long days on the bike, as well as a bit shaken from the early morning construction traffic and the trailers (rude or friendly) so when the route left the Trace at Utica, I flagged the SAG Van and rode into Natchez with Michelle, the second guide, and group cook. It was a different sort of a challenge to identify the riders as we passed, mark them off on the list and navigate for her as we went.
As we swooped up and down the last 10 miles of hills, I was glad I had opted to Sag instead of ride. Although I felt badly about giving up, perhaps too easily at 50 miles instead of riding the entire 85, I was also well aware of the fact that my mind and heart were not really in the ride any longer, and that it was a relief not to be sitting on the bike.
How ironic that the longest days are at the early part of the trip. After I leave in Memphis the remaining 30 days of the ride average less than 50 miles per day instead of the 75-90 we have been averaging so far.
I also find it interesting that the mileages have gone up about 10% since the preliminary trip plan was mailed out. A conspiracy perhaps, or maybe just the difference between map figuring and actually driving and logging the route. Who Knows? It is something to remember for the future.
I think that in spite of the rain, the insidious slope and flagging out at the end, this has been the best day of the ride so far. The daily routine is shaking out, the bike is behaving intself and the cameraderie of the group is apparent which makes the whole experience that much more rewarding.
