The Natchez Trace, Part I

First, I want to announce a couple of milestones: We finished our drive down the Natchez Trace today, ending in Natchez, Mississippi. There were a couple of camper parts waiting for us at a UPS pickup location in town, which we were pleased to see. I figured that would work to get things delivered to us on the road, but you never know. The Scamp folks sent us two parts for the camper that had broken—the table leg (just a button at the top had popped, we could still use the table) and the cover for one of the wastewater tanks (Mike had temporarily Gorilla-taped it back on).

We had been camped at the Natchez Trace State Park, about 10 miles from the end of the trail, for the last two nights, but this morning we completed our passage down the parkway and crossed the wide Mississippi River. We moved camp to a nice place called Riverview Park, which was indeed right on the riverfront in Vidalia, Louisiana. Another milestone: It was our first time setting foot in Louisiana, so now we can say we have spent at least a day—usually much longer—in every single one of the lower 48 states. Not sure why Louisiana had eluded us before this, but the map is now complete (someday we may make it to Alaska, who knows?)

A barge on the mighty Mississippi River,

from our campground in Louisiana

Back to the story of our traverse down the Natchez Trace National Parkway. We stopped at a Welcome Center in Tennessee not too far from the Land Between the Lakes and were pleased to see there was a volunteer on duty. He told us the best way to get to the beginning of the Natchez Trace Parkway, southwest of the city of Nashville. “Beginning” is sort of a misnomer, since it is the terminus of the parkway, which officially begins at mile marker 0.0 just north of Natchez, Mississippi. So we were driving it backwards, beginning at mile marker 440.

Either way you drive it, the Natchez Trace is a beautiful drive. I think the National Park Service should open 20 or so more parkways all around the U.S. It’s a lovely passage through several states, with so many historical markers and sites of interest that it could take us all day to go 100 miles (and it did!). Best of all, it has a 50 mph speed limit and a ban on semi trucks. We saw one big truck near Rock Spring and reported it to the authorities. And I’m happy to say it was the only one we saw.

The Owl Creek Indian mounds, one of about

a half-dozen sites with mounds along the Trace

In Tennessee, we didn’t drive far the first day before we were looking for a place to stop, which turned out to be Fall Hollow RV Park. It was a little run down, but a shout out to Noel, the manager, who keeps things looking as good as he can and led us to our site sitting astride a golf cart. I felt kind of like an airplane coming in for a landing. For an overnight stay, the place was just fine.

The next day, we made a stop in a town alongside the parkway, Collinwood, Tennessee. We met six charming people in a half hour there. The first was the volunteer at the Welcome Center, who was quite talkative and had an uncle who moved to Sidney, Ohio. Then we chatted with two clerks and a customer at the local hardware store, while looking for elusive license plate bolts, and after that we stopped at the Dragonfly Coffee Shop for some delicious chess pie and the proprietors there were very pleasant. They told us they’d never raised the price of their regular coffee: 91 cents a cup. The coffee and pie hit the spot on a cool, rainy morning.

Our next stop was in Alabama, where we got off the Trace to see Muscle Shoals, of rock music fame. We didn't actually see the famous Sound Studio, but an historical note: The Rolling Stones started a recording session there 55 years ago next week. I hope they found better accommodations than we did, though. We crossed the Tennessee River to stay in Florence, and that was a mistake. We got a hotel room, still worried about rain (more on that later), and while we were dry, the room was infested with bugs of every kind, crawling, creeping, and flying. It was terrible. We slept with the lights on to keep them at bay and got out early.

The original Muscle Shoals Sound Studio, where

many famous folks recorded with The Swampers.

There were many springs, creeks, cemeteries, Indian mounds, bits of the “Old Trace,” and stands—what they called inns along the path—through Tennessee and Alabama, including one stand where Meriwether Lewis was killed. Or died. Or committed suicide. No one really knows for sure, but much later they put up a big monument to him, to mark his grave on the Trace. 

This monument to Meriwether Lewis, of
 Lewis & Clark fame, was erected in 1848 with $500
in funding from the Tennessee state legislature.

The stand where he died is one of only two that are still standing along the Trace, but there were dozens of them at one time. The Choctaw Indian tribe had negotiated the rights to run the stands along the Trace (early privatization), which is impressive, but it turned out a lot of them were run by French or American men who married Choctaw women, who were the innkeepers of record.

Grinder's Stand, where Meriwether Lewis died under 

mysterious circumstances on October 11, 1809.

I’ll continue our trip down the Trace through Mississippi in my next blog installment. Meanwhile, tonight we’re going to find some Cajun/Southern food over in Natchez for dinner and I’m looking forward to that.