At the 6,083-mile mark of our journey, we enter the Natchez Trace Parkway, and for the next 444 miles, we’ll almost wish that this scenic road was not open for cars but just bicycles, as this would be one of the most perfect roads for an extended bike ride, except for the rain. Immediately after passing the entry sign, we encounter a bunch of wild turkeys and a deer. We are excited.

This is the first time Caroline and I have seen drying tobacco. If either of us still smoked, I think we might have considered pilfering a small leaf and taking it home to fire it up. Hmmm, had we known about smoked drinks at the time, we should have taken some of this tobacco to add a little flavor from the Natchez Trace to a drink.

No selfie here in this rain, plus we would have blocked your ability to read the sign. Way more important to read the sign than see our faces, which, of course, will come up soon enough because a day without John and Caroline’s faces is like a day without sunshine, which we don’t have right now.

The Natchez Trace Parkway runs a bit more than 30 miles across the northwest tip of Alabama, crossing the Tennessee River. The above creek is not the Tennessee River but a creek I cannot identify, though I’m sure it’s in Alabama and not Tennessee.

Only four hours on the trace, and we are already 127 miles done with this stretch of our trip. Behind the Entering Mississippi state sign is a Native American burial mound!

In keeping with my thought that I must share more than the big picture and great landscapes, I present you with this close-up of plants growing on a tree.

Caroline took this photo of spider webs; well, that’s what she says it is. Looks like melted plastic and water drops to me. I’m seriously curious about the fluorescent green dots on the back of the leaf in the top left corner. Are they radioactive?

There are no businesses along the Trace, no gas stations, motels, or food stands. Signage is kept to a minimum, and no commercial signage is allowed. Places to get on and off the trace are also relatively rare. Near Tupelo, we left the trace to find lunch and thought we should fill the tank. Someone back at the last visitor center on the trace tells us about a place in Saltillo, Mississippi, that, in our opinion, was seriously lacking, but it was only $10 a meal. Got $10.10 worth of gas, which ended up being 6 gallons on the nose. In a minute, we were back on the trace. Guess we’ll have to visit the Elvis Presley Birthplace & Museum in Tupelo on another trip across America.

The rain comes and goes, as do the creeks scattered along the route.

While the road that is the Natchez Trace Parkway pretty much follows the historic trade route, there are still sections of the original foot trail that dot in and out along our drive. This section of the footpath looked to be the perfect place to grab a selfie. Jeez, I have to admit that my wife is really cute with short hair. Please, nobody tell her that I let you know.

The further you go and the deeper you look, the more you find worth remembering about your time out on the Natchez Trace Parkway. Maybe even a bicycle would be too fast to travel this road; a good long walk might be the more appropriate mode of travel. Heck, that’s exactly how traders used this path in its early history.

Speaking of walking. We ran into this arachnid that was taking its time to explore the trace as leisurely as anyone else might dream of.

The colors of fall warm the heart of desert dwellers, especially when they are made up of rare leaves unseen in Arizona, though we do have our fair share of cactus needles.

By this time, if anyone didn’t know it, you should be able to tell that not only do we love ocean shores and big rivers, but love these tiny creeks too.

French Camp Visitor Center is one of the few structures right on the Trace. This cabin was built back in 1840. We spot a few more deer in the area, and fog shrouds the trees across the way. In less than an hour, we’ll leave the trace for the night.

It’s almost dark by the time we leave the trace and head to Kosciusko, Mississippi, to find a room. We have some pretty low standards, but the places we find in this corner of Mississippi are horrible. So we continue down the road to Carthage and check into the Carthage Inn. Food choices in Carthage are meh….doesn’t seem this part of Mississippi is much of a tourist destination.