No Chilled Earth Juice Anywhere…
From Kosciusko we doubled back up the Natchez Trace to French Camp. During our usual evening chat in Kosciusko, Ross and I talked about the Trace itself, and mention was made about a sign we'd blitzed by late that afternoon, 'French Camp'. Since that entire area had at one time been in French hands, we wondered about any significance there... A 'plan' was formulated for the following morning...
We entered the community of French Camp. More buildings and businesses than I'd anticipated, but it was still a rather small village, as far as we could tell anyway... a tourist trap, perhaps? The only restaurant we spotted wasn't open, so we visited a 'gift shop' that was open. Some interesting curios and other stuff, but...nothing that really grabbed us.
We saw no 'Information' signs on our brief tour either, so not much was learned... at the time. Later, when I was starting to compose this piece, I visited Wikipedia to see if any additional info might be available... To put that place into perspective, I soon realized, some general knowledge about the Trace itself is essential.
The present-day Natchez Trace follows a natural ridge running between Nashville, TN, and Natchez, MS. This 'solid' ridge weaves its way through otherwise marshy stretches at times. From pre-human times right up until shortly after the arrival of European settlers, it had been a ‘game trail’ especially for buffaloes, for migration from the grazing lands southward to the saltlicks in the Nashville area. Naturally, this caught the attention of native Americans as they appeared in the area. Human use of that ‘trail’ then began as animals were hunted.
Following the ‘French & Indian War’, the land east of the Mississippi River to the Appalachian Mountains that had officially been in French hands was ceded to the British along with other lands including all of Canada. Immigration from the ‘Thirteen Colonies’ began immediately, and soon areas of present-day Georgia and Alabama were seeing settlement. Tennessee and Kentucky, too, were seeing more and more folks flood in and move westward from the previous eastern areas already settled.
With the Appalachian Mountains offering a substantial barrier to the flow of goods to eastern colonies (and soon states of the new nation) and their markets and ports, rivers were seen as a low cost and most efficient way to move everything… goods, produce, hides, people… The Ohio, Cumberland, Tennessee, and Mississippi Rivers became major arteries of commerce connecting 'the west' with the port of New Orleans!
With river currents being too strong for boat traffic northward, a way was needed for river boat crews to return northward. River boats could be sold for scrap in Natchez after their cargos were off-loaded, and the long walk back could begin. Some goods were also carried in wagons up and down the Trace, but the rivers were the prime ‘highways of commerce’. Soon inns (also called stands), stores, and other structures began to appear to cater to the primarily foot traffic along the Trace.
Frenchman Louis LaFleur built such a ‘stand’ (inn), around 1810, and the settlement that grew up around it took the name ‘Frenchman’s Camp’, later shortened to French Camp. The hamlet itself had nothing to do with the earlier French ownership. It did somehow manage to survive after the invention of the steam engine and the appearance of steam powered river boats that could travel both ways up and down the rivers. The Trace itself fell largely into disuse other than for the migration of settlers.
Today French Camp is a village geared mostly towards tourist traffic. It also boasts a private non-denominational Christian academy grade 7-12 that is a residential campus for kids from difficult, dysfunctional, or dangerous to them environments. They presently serve nearly 500 students. We’d somehow managed to miss all of that on our actual brief visit to that place…! Oh well, at least I now have a good reason to return one of these days… The stop in French Camp had proven productive in another way, though…
I’d been noticing that Ross missed far fewer turns than I’m prone to miss… so… I asked him if he’d become our ‘PLO’? He agreed, so off we rode towards Arkansas… ‘PLO’, by the way, stands for Permanent Leader, OK? Soon enough our PLO led us to Winona, MS, and a Waffle House for our first meal of the day… and an interesting interlude…
No, the waitress had never heard of Chilled Earth Juice, just like all the other wait staff I'd asked throughout the remainder of this trek. However, following our typical but quite satisfying meal, we went outside towards our bikes. I noticed an interesting looking SUV with a Disabled Veteran tag… just as its owner was exiting the vehicle and turning towards the restaurant. I judged him to be of Viet Nam era vintage, so I greeted him with, “Welcome home!”
10/20/22 Burgess, Waffle House Winona...
This man, Burgess, had been serving in the Army already by the time the war ‘over there’ had begun in earnest. He was sent right along with so many others to do their duty, and he along with too many others were wounded for their trouble. He’d been medically discharged and therefore unable to make it to retirement. What an interesting guy!
He’d served on several continents during his time in uniform, so he had a good perspective on the differences in the lives of folks in Europe, Asia, and North America. He stated flatly that he deeply appreciated what our country had to offer its citizens, and that he loved this country. It was not so popular back then to share such feelings, and in some quarters, it’s not so popular even today either. He was unequivocal, though, and he was not bashful about saying so… A refreshing time was passed between two geezers swapping stories and thoughts on various topics. The PLO had led us to a great place for a pause!!!
We stopped for the night in Monticello, AR, and we dined on pretty good hamburgers from the joint within walking distance… for Ross… He picked up our repast and brought it back to the room thereby sparing this wimp the trek! This guy was truly turning out to be a great travel companion!
We’d thought Mena, AR, and the TaliMena Trail might be our next location to visit, but some sort of event was going on there at the time and all the decent rooms were already booked. We rode to Idabel, OK, instead. Well, following a rather pleasant day wandering around on the back roads, we learned of a catfish restaurant just down the road from our motel! Yep, and those fried delights proved to be well worth the effort!
DDT
