Frankly, when we found our way back to the big bright blue Dodge truck I was overjoyed. Everything appeared intact. For starters we had parked a very long way from the Café Du Monde and the area we had parked in was sparsely populated. There weren’t that many people gathered on that section of the street. While I was sopping up more powered sugar on my beignet (shameful isn’t it), I had the thought: “I hope the stuff we have locked in the truck hasn’t been bothered.” Fill me with powered sugar, and my mind goes berserk!
I could almost envision a shattered passenger door window and my computer gone. The rest of the stuff was just stuff, but my computer is a treasure chest of written memories. It means nothing to anyone but me, but it matters to me. Much to my relief, nothing had been bothered. It was probably crazy on my part to even momentarily contemplate that someone might ransack the truck.
When we left the French Quarter it was with the intent of going west. Natchez, Mississippi was calling our names as we purposefully took the long-road to Jackson. The last time I traveled to Jackson, I opted for the quickest route. That was about a month ago. This time I wanted to do it differently. I wanted the whole enchilada so-to-speak. On second thought, maybe it was the whole bowl of gumbo. I wanted to experience the scenic view and take it slow and easy. That almost has a poetic undertone.
The Long Road to Jackson sounds like it could be the name of a country western song. I won’t hum a few bars to see if you recognize the tune. Actually, the sound is echoing in my head, but it is all based on imagination. It ought to be a song, because the long road to Jackson via the Natchez Trace is worthy of pursuit. It was an unprecedented adventure for us.
I guess it one of those things you have to experience to really comprehend. It was intended to be a quick trip. We weren’t going to be in either place long, but where else other than Natchez can you see so many antebellum mansions? I get it. Some of you are thinking of a line from a movie. How did it go? “Frankly, my dear, I don’t…”. Simply catching a glimpse of homes left over from the Civil War era would be better than seeing them on HGTV.
Wednesday turned out to be a really enjoyable day. We spent a lot more time in the car than I intended, but we saw places in Louisiana and Mississippi that neither of us had seen before. The trip from New Orleans to Natchez and then on to Jackson, MS took a lot longer than I imagined. By the time we were finished, we had traveled 313 miles. Rode hard and put up wet pretty well describes the experience.
Actually, that’s not totally true. Once we were on the Natchez side Baton Rouge, the scenic tour really became a scenic tour. Up until then, it more closely resembled a stop-and-go, bumper-to-bumper nightmare of a commute. I don't care if I never drive through Baton Rouge in rush hour traffic again. It feels a lot like Austin.
Unfortunately, darkness had mostly fallen before we made it as far as Natchez, but we didn’t let that slow us down too much. I wanted to take the Natchez Trace, but wasn’t sure that made sense. After all, it was dark. However, with the headlights on bright, it was easy to get some sense of the terrain.
It was a narrow two-lane road. The trees on either side were tall and some almost met in the middle of the highway well beyond the reach of traffic. A light rain was falling. It was pitch black outside. Without the lights on bright, it was really difficult to see where we were going.We had lots of time to look around because the speed limit was 50 mph.
Would you believe that for over 100 miles, we saw nothing along the roadway? There was no place to pull over. There were no gasoline stations for fuel. There was absolutely nothing but more road and towering trees. We didn’t see houses or any other signs of life apart from knowing there was at least a driver in the few vehicles we saw along the Trace.
It was about 7:00 p.m. when we had started the stretch of our journey coming out of Natchez toward Jackson. I bet we didn’t see more than a dozen or so other vehicles on the road for the next 100 miles. It was really kind of eerie. At the same time, it was sort of refreshing. I found myself wanting to do it in the daylight.
Call us stupid if you want, but we decided to rewind the experience from Wednesday and do it again going backwards. Instead of traveling to Jackson, we’d be on the home stretch for the road back to New Orleans. Up one day and back the next is obviously the way that we roll.
However, there were a few variations from the day before. For starters, in the middle of nowhere, two law enforcement officers where stopping traffic from both directions on the two lane highway. It reportedly was a “routine driver’s license” check. Are you kidding me? If it was routine, the two guys packing heat and looking at driver’s licenses obviously didn’t have enough to do.
I wasn’t in a panic. I had my Texas driver’s license and it was current. The line of traffic was slow in moving. I asked the General if it was acceptable for me to ask if they were looking for anyone in particular? She didn’t think it was a good idea.
I can usually hold my own in a “tit for tat” conversation, but I decided to play the party line with these guys. As I handed over my license, the younger of the two men said: “You’ve got a pretty blue truck”. So was he genuinely being complimentary or was he laughing at the bright color? I don’t really know the answer, but I can truthfully say the truck had a comfortable ride. We were high and lifted up. Consequently, as we approached New Orleans in slow moving traffic, I noticed a law enforcement officer in the car to my left texting on his cellphone as he drove. I started to make a citizen's arrest, but opted to demonstrate grace.
In yesterday’s blog, I referenced the fact that the General’s sister had recommended to that we have lunch at Frank’s. Yesterday as we were traveling back to the Big Easy to catch a flight this morning, my daughter sent a tongue-in-cheek text. She simply acknowledged that Kevin had grown up In New Orleans and he wasn’t familiar with Frank’s. Of course, he and Andrea frequent the Big Easy on occasion and they always come back with stories related to culinary delights that make me wish I had been a tag-along.
So why hadn’t we reached out to Kevin to ask for a restaurant recommendation? Through text messaging, Kevin asked for our neighborhood in New Orleans. In response he had a recommendation. We opted to go for it.
Would you believe, the restaurant proved to be just around the corner from our hotel? It was within walking distance. So we are headed back to Texas this morning with our own stories of culinary delights. We really need to get out of town more often. This has been fun! I even managed to get a picture of Chef Ron with the General. Under threat of death if I posted another picture of her, I decided to play it safe.
All My Best!
Don