The grit from the road washed away today, asphalt drumming a consistent beat beneath our rigs as the Klamath convoy crossed the Mississippi River at about 7:30 p.m. local time and entered the ninth state on our cross-country, 11-state journey.
Tonight we have gone to ground in Jackson, where we hope to present a bucket and shovel on the Capitol steps tomorrow. It was an easy day today, as everybody washed clothes and rested. Unfortunately, we had to trim Baton Rouge, Louisiana, from our itinerary because of time. That broke our string of visiting every state capitol and receiving a flag from an official. Our time in Louisiana was well spent, though. Bill Ransom found a country station that had fiddle music in nearly every song! None of that "ain't no trash in my trailer" Top 40 junk, this was real country, where Bob Wells and Hank Williams Sr. are still the kings.
It is pretty country too, thickly wooded and as green as Ireland. Fields of cotton and pastures are bounded by thick stands of pine trees, although I haven't seen a steer since we left Texas. It is awfully flat country though, especially for eyes used to the mountain ranges of the West. Common experiences are taking on new aspects these days. I am having trouble getting people in restuarants to understand me when I say words like "milk," or "eggs," and I have to repeat myself slowly. After a few times I realize that is is me, not them, that has a thick accent.
We crossed the Mississippi at Vicksburg, the site of a two-month siege and victory for Gen. Ullyses S. Grant during the Civil War. It is with considerable awe that we pass through places like this, where an old building may have stood in its place for more than 200 years. Back home, an old building is anything over a century, and there are damn few of those. Tomorrow looks to be a busy one, yet as we enter the Heart of Dixie the distances become shorter and the travel is all on Interstate highways. Our excitement is building for our arrival in Florida, scheduled for Thursday, and the rally in Naples on Saturday. Whenever I feel tired or down, all I need do is look at Frank and Peggy Wallace, two great grandparents who are on this trip because Frank overheard a conversation in a Klamath Falls restuarant about the Bucket Brigade needing help. As Peggy has said on several public speaking occasions, she is here because she saw what happened to her grandkids in 2001, and she is fighting for their children's future. Saddle update - although Texas was a dry state for fundraising, the saddle topped $1,000 in total donations at our last stop in Saginaw.
Goodnight, y'awl, and keep the home fires burning for us. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we look forward to watching the sun set through our windshields.
Kehn