For us, it doesn’t seem that any day goes as planned. Jackson was supposed to be only about 45 minutes from Roosevelt State Park, but as we were driving Tom asked me to see if there were any motorcycle shops to try to get a new battery for my scooter. I found one on SR80, which was the road we’d been traveling ever since we drove into Alabama and continued into Mississippi, and which would take us into the capital. But, in the relatively small town of Brandon, we ran into stopped traffic, and most of the cars in line in front of us were turning around to take another route. Following the lead of the locals, we turned around as well and got on I-20. We only took it a few exits before getting off and getting back on SR80, and it turned out we were just a couple of miles short of the motorcycle shop. We pulled in, found it was open even though Monday was a holiday, and Tom asked about the battery. They didn’t have one in stock, but said they could order it, but also suggested another bike shop on our route to Louisiana where we could try. We got back on SR80 heading towards Jackson, when Tom spotted a Love’s truck oil and lube garage with huge bays. Our truck was about 1000 miles past due for an oil change, so Tom veered in (as well as you can veer in a cumbersome 8-ton camper) to see if they could do an oil change. The whole staff was really happy and friendly, and they said they could, but that they didn’t have any filters for our truck. It’s probably no surprise to anyone who knows Tom, but we are, of course, traveling with a few spare parts for the truck, and the oil filter was one of them. (It was actually one of three, so we still have enough for two more oil changes.) The guys at the shop had us drive around to the back of the building and get in line to drive into the bay. They had to finish the truck in front of us, but we used the wait time to get lunch, and we were in and out in just over an hour.
At this point, we were only about 10 minutes from the Mississippi State Capitol. Being MLK Day, we didn’t encounter any traffic, and the downtown capitol area was empty. As we were driving into the city, we noticed that Jackson is more than a little run down. Within blocks of the capitol, we saw abandoned buildings, many buildings in need of major renovations, and overgrown empty lots filled with garbage. The streets were horrible, with chunks of pavement coming up, large potholes, and so many seriously uneven spots that getting down the street was like driving an obstacle course. I made the comment that we seemed to have arrived after the apocalypse, and Tom asked if I’d seen anything in the news about Jackson being hit by the tornados. I hadn’t, so we can only guess that it’s always like that. To give the city a little bit of credit, it was much improved for three or four blocks around the capitol which, besides being in need of a good power washing, is quite pretty and substantial. We were able to park in a church parking lot kitty-corner from the capitol building, so we were able to walk around the grounds, which are much more park-like than Montgomery, and were being maintained by a large crew of workers even on the holiday. Tom had been warned by one of the guys in the motorcycle shop that downtown Jackson was very rough and a little dangerous, but we didn’t feel at all threatened, and actually didn’t see anyone other than the guys working on the grounds who were all friendly and waved and said hello. We felt nowhere near as uncomfortable as we felt in Dover, DE, or, for that matter, in Atlanta with all of the homeless people. I guess we can give Jackson some points for not feeling dangerous, but as we drove out of the city on the other side that post-apocalyptic look returned, the roads continued to be horrible, and we left, glad to have Jackson in the rear view mirror.
At this point, we were only about 10 minutes from the Mississippi State Capitol. Being MLK Day, we didn’t encounter any traffic, and the downtown capitol area was empty. As we were driving into the city, we noticed that Jackson is more than a little run down. Within blocks of the capitol, we saw abandoned buildings, many buildings in need of major renovations, and overgrown empty lots filled with garbage. The streets were horrible, with chunks of pavement coming up, large potholes, and so many seriously uneven spots that getting down the street was like driving an obstacle course. I made the comment that we seemed to have arrived after the apocalypse, and Tom asked if I’d seen anything in the news about Jackson being hit by the tornados. I hadn’t, so we can only guess that it’s always like that. To give the city a little bit of credit, it was much improved for three or four blocks around the capitol which, besides being in need of a good power washing, is quite pretty and substantial. We were able to park in a church parking lot kitty-corner from the capitol building, so we were able to walk around the grounds, which are much more park-like than Montgomery, and were being maintained by a large crew of workers even on the holiday. Tom had been warned by one of the guys in the motorcycle shop that downtown Jackson was very rough and a little dangerous, but we didn’t feel at all threatened, and actually didn’t see anyone other than the guys working on the grounds who were all friendly and waved and said hello. We felt nowhere near as uncomfortable as we felt in Dover, DE, or, for that matter, in Atlanta with all of the homeless people. I guess we can give Jackson some points for not feeling dangerous, but as we drove out of the city on the other side that post-apocalyptic look returned, the roads continued to be horrible, and we left, glad to have Jackson in the rear view mirror.
Our original plan on Monday morning had been to drive to Jackson, see the capitol, and then head south to the Homochitto National Forest and find a place to camp. However, we didn’t get out of Jackson until almost 3PM, so we started looking for places closer to Jackson. We’re really glad we did, because we quickly realized that the Natchez Trace Parkway, which is a National Park road like Skyline Drive or the Blue Ridge Parkway, runs right through Jackson. And, about 30 miles south of Jackson, there’s a National Park Campground called Rocky Springs Campground. And…it’s free. It only has 22 campsites, and it doesn’t have any hookups or even potable water, but all of the sites are paved, relatively level, and nicely spaced out. You can’t make reservations, so you just have to show up and hope you can find a space, but we decided to try since it is less than an hour from Jackson. We took a minor detour off the Natchez Trace Parkway to stop at a Kroger and stock up on groceries, and headed for Rocky Springs.
On a rainy Monday evening in January, we didn’t have any trouble finding a very nice spot. Only five or six other campers were here, which were a few vans, a couple of tents, and a couple of cars which may have been people parked for the day, or people might have slept overnight in them. We took the dogs for a quick walk around the area, and settled in for the night. In the morning, we took the dogs for a longer walk around the area, which is quite interesting because Rocky Springs is an abandoned town, so besides getting to walk on the genuine Natchez Trace, we could see the remains of the village in the forest. Tom had called the more southern motorcycle shop and found that they didn’t have the battery we need, so he decided to call the shop we’d visited before visiting Jackson to see if they could order it. They could, and said it should be ready to be picked up by Friday, so we decided to spend most of the week at Rocky Springs Campground, hiking the Natchez Trace, doing some of the endless camper maintenance jobs, and relaxing.
On a rainy Monday evening in January, we didn’t have any trouble finding a very nice spot. Only five or six other campers were here, which were a few vans, a couple of tents, and a couple of cars which may have been people parked for the day, or people might have slept overnight in them. We took the dogs for a quick walk around the area, and settled in for the night. In the morning, we took the dogs for a longer walk around the area, which is quite interesting because Rocky Springs is an abandoned town, so besides getting to walk on the genuine Natchez Trace, we could see the remains of the village in the forest. Tom had called the more southern motorcycle shop and found that they didn’t have the battery we need, so he decided to call the shop we’d visited before visiting Jackson to see if they could order it. They could, and said it should be ready to be picked up by Friday, so we decided to spend most of the week at Rocky Springs Campground, hiking the Natchez Trace, doing some of the endless camper maintenance jobs, and relaxing.
This church is the only building remaining from the Rocky Springs settlement. Services are still held in it once a month.
Stopped for a few days we took the time to take the scooter off its back rack - and actually use it - as well as to set up our new screen room.
The park surrounding the Natchez Trace Parkway is very narrow, so we didn’t have a lot of hiking opportunities. On Tuesday, we hiked around the immediate Rocky Springs area, and visited the still standing church and its cemetery. We were again struck by the number of graves of children in the cemetery, and pondered how the anti-vaxxers can continue to rant against vaccines when it’s so obvious that they’ve made such a huge difference in child mortality rates. We looked at cisterns and safes, which are about all that’s left of the village. The signs give lots of reasons why the village failed and was abandoned, but the most obvious was that the settlers were trying to farm in soil so prone to erosion that the entire area is a series of washed out ravines where even the trees can’t hold the ground together.
The majority of graves in the cemetery are of children.
Erosion is still a problem.
On Wednesday, we took another hike south on the Natchez Trace to find the Owens Creek Waterfall. The 2.5 mile hike turned into more like a 4 mile endurance test by the time we detoured around the washed out ravines, but we saw lots of interesting birds and encountered another old cemetery in the middle of the woods. This one didn’t have as many dead children, but the latest death date we could find was 1902, so the cemetery has apparently been abandoned for quite a while. Shortly after the cemetery we abandoned the trail and hiked the rest of the way to the waterfall on the parkway, which probably saved us and the dogs a lot of ticks.
We were glad we did it, since the waterfall was a few drops of water going over an eight foot ledge, and while it was pretty, it wouldn’t have been worth fighting through the underbrush. The walk back to the campground on the road was only about 2 miles, which we did in about 45 minutes rather than two hours.
We were glad we did it, since the waterfall was a few drops of water going over an eight foot ledge, and while it was pretty, it wouldn’t have been worth fighting through the underbrush. The walk back to the campground on the road was only about 2 miles, which we did in about 45 minutes rather than two hours.
Owens Creek Falls…not much of a waterfall compared to what we’re used to in Belize.
We hiked on the real Natchez Trace, portions of which are still obvious as you hike through the woods.
Back at the campground, we talked to other campers and watched how this free national park campground is used. We’ve found a lot of other free places to park on our trip, but this is our first free official campground. It’s different, and is making us a little bit sad. At the pay campgrounds, we’ve found a lot of vacationers in a variety of vehicles, from cars with tents to vans to Class Cs to the big fancy expensive Class As. Here, we’re not finding a lot of vacationers. There’s one other guy traveling with his old dog in a self-built utility trailer camper, and a family camping in a couple of tents, but they’re the only other vacation-type travelers. We met a couple pulling a travel trailer who are making their way north to welcome their new great-grandchild, who stay at places like this for a few days when it’s on their route, so they’re sort of vacationers. A few other vans or travel trailers have pulled in for a night or two and then moved on, which is probably about what we would do if we weren’t waiting for the moto part. But then, there’s one old guy who’s living out of his car and sleeping in his tent and moving from campground to campground as his 14-day limits expire. He’s one of a number of gray-haired men we’ve seen and talked to, traveling alone, and living out of their vehicles which are mostly vehicles like 20-year old Toyota Corollas or Honda Civics. For the three nights we’ve been here, we’ve noticed three or four cars a night, always different, being driven by older men, traveling alone, who pull in, sit outside for a few hours, then sleep in their cars, before driving away early the next morning. This is the type of thing you don’t see unless you take the time to stop and look and think, and we’re a little ashamed of ourselves that, like most other Americans, we’ve managed to not SEE it for so long, even though it’s right in front of our faces. I don’t know that there’s anything any individual can do about it, but at the very least seeing it might affect how people vote, since it seems to be an unacknowledged problem in the US. I don’t know how many of our guests at our jungle lodge in Belize commented on how uncomfortable they were with the poverty in Belize, and it’s probably a good thing we are no longer in that business because I think I’d be recommending that those guests take a drive through Alabama and Mississippi and stay at some of the free campgrounds to see that the same poverty is in their own backyards. I’m also going to stop making jokes about being homeless and living in our vehicle, because when you see people who are really doing it, it isn’t very funny.