32.2 mi / 12.1 mph / 821 ft. climbing
Home: Goshen Springs Campground

Eggs, biscuits, gravy, grits, and some sort of meat patty: breakfast at the Quality Inn was good enough that we didn’t even need to fire up the waffle maker to get calories into us. It made the already-good-value $79 motel an even better deal. On our way back to the Natchez Trace, we stopped at a Kroger grocery store, and the racks of plants for sale lining the entryways made it feel to both of us like we had been instantly transported back to Chicago (Jewel/Dominick’s) or Washington (QFC); until that moment I hadn’t realized how much of a regional/brand thing that is, and how its been entirely absent from grocery stores in the South/East. The plants do take away from our bike-parking space though!

Here in the Jackson metro area (by far the largest population center in state), the Natchez Trace has become much busier. More cars passed us in our first 4 miles of riding than our entire (50 mile) day yesterday. It still wasn’t anywhere near the level of “unsafe”, but rose perhaps to the level of “mildly annoying” (especially in contrast to yesterday), so shortly after the Chisha Foka bike path appeared next to the Trace, we forced the bikes through the brush and trees to try the alternative.

The switch was a risk, because the trail is under construction, and while the National Park Service makes some efforts to describe the parts that are currently closed, their last updates were over a week ago. The first couple miles were hillier than the road, but certainly more-relaxed, but then we passed a barrier stating that there was a potential $5000 fine for being in a construction zone. The barrier was not actually blocking the trail, but had been moved off to the side, so does that mean we were in a construction zone or not? A mile or two later we came upon active work, so I said it was time to move back to the road. But at that point there was no easy way through the barrier of the trees. So ride a mile back to the last crossing? Or risk going ahead? Rett was frustrated by the lack of clarity, which was only added to when she noticed the sign indicating “Caution, Rough Trail Ahead”. That indicates we can go ahead? I guess? That’s what she finally decided to do, and when we called out to the two workers atop the machine, they said they had no problem with us going ahead.

That at least allowed us to get to a non-Trace road, but the limited-access nature of the Trace meant that we had to wind our way through more Rett-frustrating fits-and-starts along arterials and one “get on the trail!” from a driver who didn’t know that the trail was closed. So at the first opportunity to get back on the Trace, she took it, despite the still-high traffic.

We soon hit something completely new on the Trace (and Mississippi!): a big body of water! I had assumed that riding along the shore of the Barnett Reservoir would be the least-comfortable part of our day, because replacing the trees on our right with open water would allow the sun to beat down us, so it was a surprise to feel an air-conditioned breeze off the water, apparently deep enough near the dam to remain cold.

We had to cross the reservoir to get to our campground, and the non-Trace road was busier than I expected, while the headwind and heat combined to sap Rett’s energy and make it a tough 4-mile slog. For a campground run by the Water District, it was surprisingly developed: swimming pool (closed, but still!), playground, showers, and water and electric at our site. The one I’d reserved didn’t have a picnic table, which was lucky because it gave me an excuse to ask to be switched to a shadier site in what had become an 84-degree afternoon.

With our short-ish day, we had time to do a bit of actual cooking in camp, and Rett put together a good cajun-spiced pot of pasta. As the sun set, I made my third (and most-serious) attempt to fix her clicking pedal. I had regreased the bearing, then adjusted it, and now more-carefully adjusted and regreased it again, and it still didn’t stop the clicking! Only then did I realize that the bearing inside the pedal wasn’t the problem at all, it was simply that the pedal bolt attaching it to the crank had become slightly loose. Duh! A 2-second fix for something I had now spent at least an hour working on (and Rett had endured days of unnecessary clicking). At least the bearings are now well-adjusted and regreased as well?