I awoke one night while I was planning this trip with an epiphany: I don’t have to travel in straight lines, looking for the shortest or fastest routes. It was liberating! It also explains some weaving across the South and Midwest.
I spent June 19 to 22 in the Atlanta area catching up with friends who assured me it was normal for their washing machine to self-clean, which it did the moment I finished using it. Refreshed and de-grimed, I set off for New Orleans on Sunday, June 22, making stops in Mississippi to see the presidential back-scratching post in Lucedale (“just your typical downtown community back-scratching post until Ronald Reagan came to town”), and the house in Biloxi where Jefferson Davis lived after the Civil War.
In New Orleans, I stayed with Quinn and Andy, a couple I found through Airbnb, who work for the National Park Service and as a hotel concierge, respectively. Both were great resources on NOLA’s history and sites, each night asking about my plans for the coming day, making suggestions, then filling me in on World Cup standings. They lent me a bike which I road all over town, exploring the French Quarter, touring the Garden District, visiting city parks, and comparing pralines. They also explained the rivalry between two neighborhood bars, and their sandwiches. I enthusiastically threw my support behind Parasol’s (which looks like someone’s garage) and its roast beef po’boy.
On Wednesday, June 25, I headed south to Jean Laffite National Park, calling the park for directions when my iPhone routing left me in front of a desolate power station in the middle of a swamp. The ranger I spoke to asked if I’d used google maps, chuckled, then navigated me in. I spent the morning hiking along bayous, keeping watch for alligators, and talking with an equally astounded ranger about how a National Park can continue to be named after a slave trader. I drove on for delicious gumbo and jumbalya at a restaurant I wouldn’t have found, nor thought served food, if not for Quinn’s recommendation. That night Andy mapped out an evening of jazz for me in the bars along Frenchman Street, and Quinn fed me frittata with andouille sausage when I returned too late for a po’boy.
I left New Orleans early Thursday, stopping in Brookhaven, Mississippi to see a giant coffee pot atop a tiny restaurant, before heading on to Memphis to meet a friend’s plane at the airport. We spent the weekend absorbing civil rights history, learning the evolution of soul, and sampling BBQ. An employee at the National Civil Rights Museum mentioned that the average person spends two hours touring it; we spent three, broke for lunch, and went back.
On Sunday, June 29, I awoke to the sound of heavy rain and thunder. As I turned on the coffee maker in the semi-darkness, I felt a drop of water hit my hand, looked up to see it was coming from the ceiling, and alerted our Airbnb hosts who sprang into action with buckets and towels. Because of road closures and flooding, it took me over an hour to get out of Memphis, with water so deep I felt like I was riding a flume each time I entered an intersection. The flooding continued throughout eastern Arkansas, but eased as I drove west, with the sun shining by the time I reached Oklahoma.
I spent the night in Tulsa in a Swedish couple’s pool house, then did a quick tour of downtown, stood in the enormous Golden Driller’s shadow (the fourth largest statue in the US!), and took a jaunt down Route 66 to visit the Blue Whale of Catoosa. I then headed north toward Kansas, listening to a mix of wheat yield stats and country music, and marveling over how long it had been since I’d seen another car.
I spent three days east of Wichita, visiting a friend who was visiting her parents. We explored the Flint Hills proving Kansas isn’t flat, saw a wind farm up close, watched a neighborhood softball game, and helped shovel gravel for the foundation of a metal shop. My friend’s mom tried to teach me to crochet and, after several hours and communal skepticism, I finally produced a small, triangular potholder. I set off for New Mexico on Thursday, July 3, with a skein of yarn, crochet needle, and Christmas plan. Current mile count: 3440.
 |
| presidential back-scratching post, Lucedale, Mississippi |
 |
| Jean Lafitte National Park, Louisiana |
 |
| There was a second shot where he turned toward me, but it was blurry from my backpedaling. |
 |
| jazz on Frenchman Street, New Orleans, Louisiana |
 |
| giant coffee pot, Brookhaven, Mississippi |
 |
| The Lorraine Motel, National Civil Rights Museum, Memphis, Tennessee |
 |
| The Golden Driller, Tulsa, Oklahoma, with my purse on his foot to show scale! |
 |
| The Blue Whale of Catoosa, Route 66, Oklahoma |
 |
| The Flint Hills, Kansas |
 |
| Beaumont, Kansas |
 |
| Benedict, Kansas |
