Natchez Trace reunion

Tupelo, Mississippi leans heavily upon its most famous native. An exit sign touts “Elvis Presley Site” as the singer was born there in a two-room shotgun house. 

Nothing against the King, but after two days on the road, I craved something else. A quieter exit nearby was more my speed. No commercial vehicles, lower speed limits, a feel of farther back in time. For the first time in a decade, I was on the Natchez Trace, if only for a few miles. 

The national scenic parkway follows the route travelled for millennia. Originally a bison run, then a path followed by the Southeast’s Native tribes, it became the way back north for flatboat pilots and crews. 

Before steamboats, the boatmen (called Kaintucks because they often started on the Ohio River in Kentucky) selling goods would also sell off their flatboats, which could not return upstream on the Mississippi or its eastern tributaries. They would return by walking, horseback, or other means, stopping at stands (hotels) along the way. Many stretches of the original Trace still exist, as well as landmarks that go back thousands of years, including waterfalls, Indian mounds, and more. 

While the Tennessee sections are hilly, the Trace flattens out once it crosses the Tennessee River and enters Mississippi after a short span in Alabama. The park visitor center was open, so I spent a little time with the displays and the new park movie. National Park units usually put together good documentaries demonstrating their importance, and this one was no exception. Spending a few minutes watching the movie reminded me of the days spent upon the Chase in a previous lifetime. 

A two-day drive covered the whole 445 miles in 2012. The low speed meant not needing gas once between Nashville and Jackson, Mississippi. 

Mostly I travelled the stretch between Nashville’s west suburbs and the Merriweather Lewis site, where the 19th century explorer died at a Trace stand in 1809. The site included a rustic hiking trail and the best free campsite near Nashville. 

Most Nashville people visit the double arch bridge near the Trace’s northern end and go no further. In the next 70 miles, the Trace has numerous scenic stops – the Gordon House (an 118 home that served as a trading post and operated a ferry on the Duck River), the Baker Bluff overlook ( a glance back in time a rural Tennessee farm). Jackson Falls, Devil’s Backbone trail, Fall Hollow and then the Lewis gravesite. Immediately south is Metal Ford, a shallow crossing of the Buffalo River that is quite serene. 

I wandered a quick trail across the Trace from the visitor center before resuming my crazy pace to Atlanta. But I needed a little encore. 

I returned the day after Christmas for a brief respite at the small park units near Tupelo. No one bothered with the Old Town Creek overlook. There has been a Chickasaw settlement here. There had been towns and villages across the south until the Trail of Tears pushed them all to Oklahoma and white settlers surged in. 

 I just stopped at a pond, created by a little earthen dam. Even in December, three turtles sat on a half-sunken log. They were far enough out on the pond that they did not flee into the water the second they spotted me. 

I sat there for a little while, a luxury the boatmen heading north on the Trace never had. The Trace’s peak era also included thieves and highwaymen ready to rob and assault them, making it a necessity to reach the Trace inns every night. 

Eighty miles from Memphis - 1,100 from home - I could sit there undisturbed and gather myself in the quiet morning. With years of memories, a little Trace went a long way.