. . . old time commerce would have been a lot more difficult. Today, it’s a National Scenic Byway and an All-American Road covering the 444 miles between Natchez and just below Nashville, TN. But it’s origins go back to a series of hunters’ paths of the Choctaw, Natchez, and Chickasaw Indians. 
By 1733, had been mapped by the French. In the late 1700’s, Ohio farmers who had floated their goods down the rivers to New Orleans returned on foot via the Trace. By the early 1800’s, it became a wilderness road, punctuated by inns and brigands.
although it starts to get a bit soporific after a while. I mean, how many trees can you take anyway?
It does, however, have historical and quirky stops along its way. Quirky:
And historical:
It’s nothing more than a large hill, but when you think the Indians constructed it by hand, without tools or draft animals, it becomes a lot more impressive.
If it looks like we’re plodding, we were! It wasn’t the climb, which was easy, it was the heat and humidity. Mississippi was undergoing a heat wave with the heat index well over 100. El sweato. The view from the top was underwhelming, but at least we weren’t being sacrificed to the spirits.
We bailed the Trace at Jackson and followed Dora’s instructions to what we thought was our RV park for the night. Turned out it was another one we’d not heard of. The one we were heading for closed years ago, and this one just happened to be there. Serendipity. It was a little slice of Mayberry, with resident kids riding scooters and playing in the lane.
The owner was a Blanche Dubois doppelganger, with an accent that dripped honey and magnolias. Welcome to the Sahyouth, y’all.
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