Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Mighty Mississippi


Yesterday we drove through the flat farmland of the Louisiana side of the Mississippi valley. I'm convinced that the only reason we couldn't see New Orleans some 200 miles south was because there were periodic rows of trees breaking up the cotton fields. Spotting these gigantic Live Oaks and Pecans on the horizon and guessing how far away they were became a game. My mom won. My conservative estimations of 2 or 3 miles lost to her extravagant guesses of 4-5 miles. Eastern Louisiana is an extreme place.

We drove south along HWY 65 from Pine Bluff, AR, where we were visiting a grandmother, about 150 miles down to Vidalia, LA before crossing the Mississippi river into Natchez, MS. Vidalia, LA lived up to the reputation of being the "other side of the river" from stately Natchez. Natchez grew up on a bluff along the Mississippi, attracting a French fort to defend the upper Mississippi river in the early 18th century and complemented the French stake in New Orleans further downstream. Natchez was a secondary port along the river, attracting lots of riverboat men from Kentucky and Ohio and lots of frontiersmen constantly pushing the boundaries of the US from Georgia. Natchez became a key port for the booming cotton industry at the turn of the 19th century. The road leading from Natchez up to Nashville, the Natchez Trace, served as a highway for boatmen to return upriver on foot, their flat-bottom  boats chopped up for lumber since they were worthless in the face of the might Mississippi current.

All this wealth (stemming from the geographic advantage Natchez had of being 200-300 feet higher above the river than Vidalia) allowed it to escape the poverty of subsistence farming that the people across the river never really seem to have left. Driving through Louisiana, only the cloud-filtered sunlight and thin veil of trees lining the highway allowed any idyllic interpretation of the landscape beyond the highway. Cypress lined swamps seemed beautiful peeking through the bare limbs lining the highway, but their reality was economically useless land to those who owned it. Plowed, wet dirt rows lining up for miles under a low, evening mist looked romantic under the filtered, northern light. Silhouettes of barns and farmhouses half a mile or more from the road looked inviting and much more solid than the tiny car I was in hurtling down the highway at 70 mph.

But viewing anything more closely in direct light on the Louisiana side of the Mississippi river revealed more of the truth. Most buildings in towns were empty. Gas stations seemed to be the busiest places, with cars parked in no particular order making the stations impossible to access for us out-of-towners. Locals were leaning against the walls of the convenience stores under big "no loitering signs" drinking from paper bags at 3pm. It appeared that their work was done for the day.

Photos from the drive yesterday would have made for a really poignant coffee table book in some Natchez mansion gift shop on the other side of the river. Sixth or seventh generation Natchezans (pronounced "Natchezians"), their wealth a little deteriorated since the Civil War, could have certainly capitalized on the raw images of natural beauty contrasted with social ills from the agricultural communities across the river. Too bad I'm a terrible photographer and the picture up top is really the only one out of about 20 that were worth posting.


Back in the 19th century, Vidalia experienced the refinements in Natchezan society by absorbing the prostitutes, drunks and gambling halls that Protestant Natchez could afford to rid itself of. The antebellum mansions lining Natchez's streets (they earn their keep by charging $15 for a tour) are not seen at all on the other side of the river. The perch where the French built Fort Rosalie back in 1716 is now occupied by Rosalie mansion - perhaps the most prime real estate in all of Mississippi, situated on the highest bluff over the river in town. Big, concrete casinos can be seen nearly a mile away in poorer Louisiana. But Natchez's mansion fees haven't been able to bouy the economy as the strategic importance of Natchez declined with the advent of the steamboat (thus rendering the Natchez trace obsolete) and they've had to dial back on the pretentiousness. Now, an enormous "steamboat" (I'm not convinced it was ever actually in service) is parked below Rosalie Mansion and services Natchez's riverboat gambling fans. "The Isle of Capri Resort" has consumed a large part of southern Natchez, with the "boat", parking lots, dry land hotel and busy shutles all marking a very visible presence here.
Rosalie Mansion, former site of Fort Rosalie that put Natchez on the map.

Tomorrow I set off on the Natchez Trace on my bike. The plan is to bike all 422 miles to Nashville, TN by March 17.  I need to average about 60 miles per day to hit that mark. We'll see how my legs hold up. The next post will be from the Trace, and might include some bitching about how I can't stand up. Just be warned.


1 comment:

  1. "Yesterday we drove through the flat farmland of the Louisiana side of the Mississippi valley. I'm convinced that the only reason we couldn't see New Orleans some 200 miles south was because there were periodic rows of trees breaking up the cotton fields. Spotting these gigantic Live Oaks and Pecans on the horizon and guessing how far away they were became a game. My mom won. My conservative estimations of 2 or 3 miles lost to her extravagant guesses of 4-5 miles. Eastern Louisiana is an extreme place."

    TELL ME ABOUT THE BOMB, BEN. Tell me about the bomb.

    Btw we have had NO FREAKING CLUE how many people have been showing up in Tahrir since you left. Absolutely flying blind bro.

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