Day 5: Canton to Tishomingo

10:30 PM |

After yesterday’s feast, today’s breakfast is a bit of a letdown; the scrambled eggs are old and dry, the waffle mixture is separating and produces a limp waffle (that would later cause some stomach upset).

On the way out we meet another friendly kitten. It’s as if Glitter, Phoenix & Callie are saying hello.

When we stop to get gas there's a hilarious sign on the door reminding customers not to drive off without getting gas after you've paid for it. One has to wonder how often that's happened that they had to put up a big sign ...

Downtown Canton is supposedly a nice, historical area but I'm not really feeling it. We stop to ask direction at the welcome center, where the hostess is busy giving instructions to the local inmates about their community service assignments .... hmmm.

A short drive later we are back on the Trace where notice how the leaves are starting to turn color more and more the further we head north. It’s hard to improve on this drive as it is, but when you start adding fall colors in the mix it gets even better.

Cypress swamp is our first stop of the day. Here water tupelos and bald cypresses survive in an area that stays wet through most of the year. In swamps the bald cypress produces little stumps protruding above the water level to help oxygenate and stabilize the tree.

Wooden walkway crossing the swamp

See the little stumps?

From a distance it looks almost like grass ...

Myrick Creek is our next stop; a short trail known for the possibility of encountering beavers. There’s signs with information about their diet, habitat and how they can chew under water. All good info and we learned some cool stuff, but there was sadly no sign of any beaver activity along the trail. The only thing that made it worthwhile was a short section of trail completely carpeted with moss.

Cole creek’s short trail doesn’t quite live up to expectations; not a lot to see and there’s a billion mosquitoes that of course bite me multiple times even though I’m flapping my arms around me like a Tasmanian devil as we walk. Sandy again escapes their notice … talk about unfair!

The view across the road from the trail is much nicer than the trail itself:

At some random point along the Trace (I think ½ mile before the Bethel Mission turn off?) we spot a large herd of horses grazing peacefully in a meadow.

They don’t pay me any attention as I make my way down the grassy hill, but a cute creme colored paint looks up long enough from his grazing to allow me to pet his nose. Just the smell alone is enough to send me to horse heaven and remind me of my baby at home.

While this trip was still in the planning phases, I’d contemplated spending the night at the French Camp B&B. Sadly, it was too far down the Trace, but at least we get to check it out today. It’s the strike off noon when we get out of the car and the church bells are ringing a sweet song that reminds me of Holland.

We take a seat on the patio of the Council House Cafe and are promptly served a full pitcher of iced tea and a large container filled with pickles, which makes for a very homey feeling.

My turkey sandwich is piled so high with turkey that I have to take some of it off before I can even try to eat it, but it is super yummy. There’s homemade honey mustard (you can actually see little green specks in it) that goes really great with it.

Next up, the Jeff Busby overlook. At more than 600 ft above sea level this is one of Mississippi’s highest points, which of course makes for a fabulous view in both directions.

Lazy as we are we had driven the car to the top, but while we’re there we take the Little Mountain loop trail partially down the mountain and then back up. “Up the mountain, down the mountain” is becoming a recurring theme in all of our trips haha.

Driving the Trace is never boring; the road always seems to curve this way or that and there’s subtle changes in the trees – then it’s hardwood, then it’s mixed, but every once in a while there’s a radical change like when suddenly we’re flanked by freshly mowed pastures leading into an almost desolate swampy section.

Our next two stops direct us off of the Trace for a side-trip to Tupelo. Bearing in mind that just yesterday we visited Vicksburg’s 16 miles worth of civil war memorials, Tupelo National Battlefield doesn’t quite live up to the expectations; it’s a corner lot of a busy road with one large memorial, one smaller one, two headstones and two cannons. Yes, I counted them.

Not to be deterred we push on past countless stoplights, two railroad crossing and – just as we are getting desperate and plugging in the GPS – the turn off for the Elvis Presley Birthplace museum.

The memorial park is split up into different section, but we only buy tickets to tour the home where lived until he was 3 years old and the family was forced to move for being unable to make payments. Built by his Daddy with $160 in material this two room bungalow without water or electricity was fairly typical for the time, according to the guide.

One of the two rooms

His early childhood chapel was moved to the park as well.

Sandy makes a good point; how long will this place stay open when his fans have all passed away? Does fame really live forever? We were the youngest people in attendance by far ...

All over Tupelo we spot these decorated guitars.

Old Town Overlook doesn’t have a good view at all. On to the next stop we go …

There’s only one National Park Service visitor center along the Natchez Trace and it is located at mile marker 266. I get some more stamps for my passport then ask the ranger if we can watch the introductory movie, which as always does not disappoint.

Twentymile Bottom Overlook is pretty cool; located up a hill with a small clearing in the hardwoods that looks out over the road and fields in the distance. A large area appears to have been hit by a fire recently, whether from lightning strike or human stupidity we can’t tell, but the lingering smell of charred wood is nice.

Pharr Mounds is, as the name implies, another set of mounds; this time eight of them spread out in a giant field. I could show you a picture but they look just like all of the others.

Adding more video into my blogging this time. Spend some time in the car with us on a random stretch of the Trace:

We cross over the Jamie L. Whitten bridge across the Tennessee-Tombigee waterway and realize as soon as we get to the other side that the better view of the bridge would’ve been from that side. Oh well.

Undeterred we make a left into the turn off anyway and are rewarded by swampy ponds flanking both sides of the road.

Especially the one on the inside of the turn makes for some great pictures!

Oops, almost forgot the bridge ... kind of forgot about it after all those pretty fall colors:

Back on the road, there’s another field with reddish grass soaking up the late afternoon sun and this time we manage to stop just in time to get a picture.

Daylight is fading as we drive into Tishomingo; the front office is locked and there’s no envelope or anything tacked to the door. I do a double take around the building, but there’s nothing waiting for us or a note directing us where to go. Uh oh.

Of course we don’t have a park map yet so we just follow the signs as it leads us miles into the park, until finally we reach the cabins. There’s a couple of lights on in the one we’ve rented and when I walk around back I see the key is waiting for us by the door. Phew!

Can I just say how much I love staying at non-chain places?! All of my favorite lodging memories center on crazy cabins, lavish hotels and cozy B&B's, never “the night we spent at the Holiday Inn.” So it should come as no surprise that I LOVE this cabin. Nestled in the middle of the woods (I’m listening to the crickets chirping like wild as I type this), it’s more like a stone hunters lodge complete with exposed wooden beams across the cathedral ceiling, TWO fireplaces and all the things you need to prepare a decent meal.

Before heading out for dinner we stop at the Swinging Bridge, vowing to return in the morning when the light is more favorable.

Our dinner options consist of Mexican, Mexican or Mexican. Yes people, we are out in the boonies and the only other two restaurants in town are closed. Kind of ironic considering Sandy eliminated Mexican from the options yesterday because she was a bit leery of eating Mexican food in rural Mississippi. I would kind of have to agree with that but beggars can't be choosers ...

So anyway, after a confusing drive along country roads – we managed not to get lost – we make it to El Pueblo, where Sandy orders the enchilada supreme (chicken, beef, bean & cheese enchilada combination) and I try the shrimp chimichangas. Surprisingly the food is excellent and I even eat all of my rice, guacamole and the pico de gallo. Beans and sour cream still not my thing, but at least I’m getting better haha.

It’s pitch black as we drive up the winding road to the cabin and a few times we spots little eyes lighting up from the brush as well as some deer darting into the bushes. When we get out of the car the forest comes alive with chirping crickets.

Little movie of the crickets -- make sure the sound is on.