I wanted to see some music history of Memphis, so we hit the Memphis Blues Hall of Fame Museum. It was $7.50, but I wanted to see it badly, especially since I enjoyed the Georgia Music Hall of Fame so much a few days ago. The museum itself was okay, but not so inspiring. I was hoping to have more samples of music than they did. Their collection of music paraphernalia was impressive, however! They had many of the outfits and actual instruments used in various sessions. It chronicled delta blues to Sun Records to Stax and R&B. The one picture I wanted to take was the Isaac Hayes Hammond B3 and Leslie, which was painted yellow with his name on it. There were a few tunes to listen to, via telephones, but many weren't working, and I was heartily disappointed.
We then wandered over to Beale St. On the way we went past main street, and I got this nice shot. Memphis is undergoing lots of rejuvenation, which may be a good thing. This city has alot of soul and character, which I hope survives any regentrification efforts. Anyway, here's the photo.
Near Beale St., we found another Memphis music historical museum, this one was a Smithsonian, located in part of the new Memphis factory of Gibson guitars. The museum itself was new, too, only open for a few months. It was $6 apiece, so we decided to hold off, and maybe catch it later in the day.
We ate at Alfreds again for lunch, and got excellent specials, jam-packed with southern cuisine. We both got turkey+gravy, with a great assortment of side orders. Mmmmm, this was one of the better meals on my trip. One strange building on Beale St. was the front of a building, with nothing behind it, supported by steel girders. It seemed kind of strange, standing alone, so frail, so lonely. Here's that shot.
We both wanted to go see the Civil Rights museum, which was a few blocks down. We passsed a stained glass gallery, which we decided to visit. It was half gallery and half workshop, and the artisans were kind enough to talk to us as they were building stained-glass windows. Hillary actually bought a pane of blue glass to bring back to her roommate Stafford, who is just getting into mosaic owrk. We passed another stained-glass gallery and briefly went in, but it wasn't as cool as the first.
We then made it to the Lorraine Hotel, where the Civil Rights Museum was. Across the street, some people seemed to be protesting against the "Civil Wrong Museum". We went in, and seemed to catch it at the right time, because it was free on Mondays after 3:00. The time was 3:06. The tour was pretty powerful, showing in much detail the inequalities of blacks throughout US history, mostly in the South. They showed some clips of beatings and verbal abuses during the 50's, it was amazing to see such intolerance. Lots and lots of information was presented, and it got overwhelming towards the end. The tour concluded with a procession past the room of the hotel that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in, it was pretty moving.
After the tour, we talked with the woman behind the protest across the street. Her problem seemed to be with the museum's focus on MLK himself, as opposed to the whole civil rights movement. She would rather read his books than visit the "Disneyland" of the museum.
Back at the car, Hillary and I planned out where to go next. Hillary wanted to see Austin at some point, and I also wanted to take a longer route to Austin, through Mississippi, Arkansas, and Louisiana. I also wanted to do some back roads, because they're much more scenic. We decided to take 61S into Mississippi for awhile, to see how it goes.
On Rt. 61, I gave my old college chum Johnny Larson, from LA, a call, just as we were crossing into Mississippi. I remarked how almost instantly after the state line, the terrain became much flatter and more open. He profoundly stated that things can change drastically across state borders. This is Johnny Larson, the same man that his Theory of the Brontosaurus. He's a very incredible fellow, for all you non-Johnny folks out there.
We took 61S for about 1-2 hours, and then came to a larger town. It was Clarksdale, which it turns out was the home of many Delta blues players. This is the delta country, the birthplace and heartland of the blues. Robert Johnson, John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, and Howlin' Wolf were all born here, along with many others. In fact, the intersection of Rt. 61 and Rt. 49 is fabled to represent the famous Crossroads that Robert Johnson acknowledges where one sells their soul to the devil in order to play the blues. Hillary and I stopped for dinner here, at a BBQ restaurant called Abe's right next to the Crossroads. So, that allowed me to get this shot of the crossroads, complete with lit-up guitars, and even the glare of my flash off the Rt. 49 road sign.
Abe's was pretty decent. I was hoping to catch some live blues, but after driving through downtown, we didn't find any place that seemed to have music. The city itself seemed run down and possibly dying, which is a shame considering it's heritage. At Abe's, about 30 people and their kids were eating their post baseball game meal, which made the place pretty rambunctious. Took awhile to place our orders, but we got our food only seconds after ordering it, and it was pretty damn good. BBQ pork (they were out of beef) with beans, cole slaw, and bread. One aspect of this place that fascinated me was the respect the people had. The two boys (19 maybe?) working responded with "Yes sir" and "No Sir" constantly, it was very different than up North.
We then hit the road again, and at some point took 82W into Arkansas (and over the romantic waters of the Mississippi). We hit a truck stop briefly, and it was a pretty scary scene. The food they had for sale there was all fatty junk, they had none of the "healthier" junk food. A sign on the front door warned people to watch their language with many Christian implications. They also advertised sale of Christian books in the back. Everyone there was overweight, probably representing the effects of the food that was available. I bought a better hammer for the tent stakes, and the clerk went into a story I understand very little of, about moving boats by banging guiding nails with that hammer. One redeeming aspect of the place was that some farmer was selling fresh canteloupe in front. Hillary and I were happy to hit the road after that, and then realized later that somehow we were on the wrong road. We were on 65N, but needed to take it South, way back to 82, in a different part of Arkansas. It turned into 425 at some point, and we entered Louisiana.
One thing that was pretty incredible on this leg of the trip was the hordes of bugs along the roads after dusk. So many bugs flying about, many of them smashing right into the front end of my car. I had many MANY mosquitos caked onto the windshield and fender, and even some moths and other things. Pretty gross, it was. I'd have to clean my windshield within the next day or so.
Here's a photo of them pesky lil skeeters and varmints stuck to my
car. Don't waste your time and try to look up my driving record through
my license plate...
We made two attempts to hit campgrounds at state parks off the roads in Louisiana, but they were locked off to cars, at 2 AM. We ogt to 165S, and nearly made it to I-20 before hitting a gas station. There, they told us of a KOA campground only a few miles away, so we left quickly to get there. A nasty-ass smelling fertilizaer plant across the street also drove us to leave quickly. We found the campground, it was Shiloh's RV Park, and we parked on well-manicured lawns. Set up our tent, no rainfly, and exhausted, fell right asleep.
| Location | Monroe, LA |
| Odometer | 131,521.2 Miles Total 2767.5 Miles On Trip 335.0 Miles Today |
| Coordinates | 32° 29.385' N 92° 01.981' W |