Day 1069

My companion and I have started walking the path of the Natchez Indians towards Mississippi. We have set up camp at an old park called Meriwether Lewis named after the fame explorer. Lewis and Clark walked this land long ago as partners in discovery just as I and my young explorer walk it today. The difference, they walked it during the birth of a nation, we walk it after its death. We now have our tent set up near the grave site of Lewis, according to the old park signs he died not far from here at a inn that use to stand close by. He was on his way to St. Louis walking this old Indian trail that was used quite a bit by the French, Spaniards and British as a route to the east. He died during his over night stay and was buried here; Clark was not with him on this trip. Over two hundred years in the past, this all happened, over a thousand years ago the Indians used this as a trade route to other indian nations. Think about that, the Indians roam and traded on this land for thousands of years. The white man comes, explorers, builds a nation, and kills off the Indians like they were a plague. And with in less than three hundred years, leaves the land in ruin. I ask you; who were the civilized and who were the savages?

As we embarked on the Trace I had found an old shopping cart that I filled with as much food and fresh boiled water as I could. I push the cart, Hope's job (as she sees it) is to ride up front and point at new discoveries. The trace is a very desolate road, one I never like to travel in a car. The main reason is you can travel twenty miles on the trace and you have seen it all. It is a flat drive with trees on each side and that is all you will see the whole 444 miles from Nashville TN. to Natchez MS.; except for the occasional Indian mound or open field. I expect this walk to be just as boring, but so far my partner has made it a little less mundane because she looks at everything as if it is brand new.

I have not been feeling very well every since we left Dickson, I thought Hope was sick, but it seems I may have a bug. My last wish would be to get sick something happen and Hope be left alone. We may rest here another day if I am not feeling better in the morning. I pray I can make it to Pontotoc and find an Amish family, if there are any left in that area. I think once I get her settled, this may be my last walk. I think I will head home and wait. I do not look forward to saying good bye to this little one who has made me smile, she has brighten my last days and I owe her so much for the happiness she has brought me. She reminds me of someone, a soul I have known before. I know I keep thinking this, but why is she so familiar to me.

Go to Day 1075

Day 1066

There are many things I miss about the past world of modern conveniences but none more than portable music. When I was a boy the transistor radio came out and people were free to walk around with music in their ear. The old folks would look at the teenagers and shake their heads at this new fangled contraption; while the kids danced to the music with one ear plug (before stereo) stuck in the side of there head. After that music had to be portable, I have seen it evolve. From the compact radio to the boom box on the shoulder, the walk man to the I-Pod and last but not least the chipster (ear implanted micro chips that could download thousands of songs to your head). I myself have been calmed by music played into my head from earphones (not a chip kind of guy) as I tried to get pass another day of boring work. As much as we tried to make it more compact and digitized, music was at its best played on crackling vinyl as a needle run across the groves and it poured out of big speakers. But none of that compared to the thrill of live, un-produced, unedited music from a band with talent.

Walking through Dickson TN. looking for supplies I heard a sound that brought tears to my eyes. It was the sound of a lone banjo (an American born instrument) faintly echoing off the walls of the buildings in town. This even caused Hope’s ears to perk up. We followed the sounds as we heard a guitar added and also what could be a fiddle began to blend in as well. My feet became so light as my ears listened to the ringing of bluegrass played in the hills of Tennessee that for a moment I thought I heard angels singing. The sound got louder as we came to an abandon building on the edge of town. Hope was anxious to run on in, but even though I was enchanted by the music I had to take precautions. I pulled my rifle and kept it by my side. I looked a Hope as she rolled her eyes. Then I said; what?

We eased into the dark building and wandered around (what used to be a hardware store) until we came to a stair case that went down to a basement. The music stopped just as I was about to put my foot on the first step. I hollered; Hello! The response came back with several voices almost in harmony; Hello? Several grungy looking souls peeked out of the dim candle light and looked up the stairs; “look” one of them said; it’s people.

It was true we had run up on your typical inbreed rednecks in the south playing bluegrass. Sounds like something you would see in an old Burt Reynolds movie. But here they are big as life. They seemed friendly enough so we (or I) casually began to talk with them. Four men and two women, two brothers and their sister and a husband and wife who claimed they wondered into town one day, and one smart alick little dude that was a friend of the brothers.

“What ya gonna do with that gun”? The little guy asked. “Nothing no one makes me do”; I replied. “We are no threat; we just heard the music and thought we would check it out. Did not mean to disturb you, we will be on our way”. “Naw, it’s alright”; the husband said. “We are just surprised to see someone else; it’s been what, maybe five years since we have seen anyone”. “I guess”; the others spoke up. “Feel free to listen in, we was just passing time, it’s all we got ya know, time”. “I know” I said, I know…..

We sat on the stair case and listen as they picked out another number; I looked down and saw Hope was patting her foot. It was a joyful sound indeed. This could have been great, but like a lot of crap in this world there is always a dark side. As I looked around the dimly lit room I pick up on why these people were hold up down here instead of up in the town. Seems people like to hide their secrets in the dark even though there are no people left to judge. I saw what I recognized as a crude meth lab, these good ole boys and girls are strung out on the crystal demon. Of coarse there are plenty of supplies left to make this up-to-date version of moonshine. I guess we all have our ways of dealing with the world. Some just chose to live in a fog.

As soon as the song was over, I told them how great it was to hear music again, especially grass, but we had to go. They tried to get us to stay, but I made as hasty a retreat as I could with out being to rude or raising many red flags. They were in no shape to put up much of a fight any way, I think they just wanted to get back to drowning out life. When we got outside Hope looked at me like she was disgusted we left so soon. I said, “Do you trust me”? Her eyes soften and she nodded her head. We walked on as the music faded from our ears, it caused me to wipe one last tear from my eye. I could have sat on that stair case and listen to that music forever. There is nothing like music to help you ride memories an escape. Why would you need any thing else….

Play on my wayward son, play on…………..


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