October 27th - Day 25 - Natchez to a loop of river off of the Mississippi an hour north of New Roads.

Karlas alarm went off at 7:30, and by 7:32 she was out putting oil in the gas cans in the beginnings of a rain storm by 7:32. I have no idea how she can pull herself togeather that fast on the rainy day. I usually need a full five minutes to remember my name. At any rate, we got up and moving, and tied the boat up at the shore, which I hate to do because there's really no way to prevent it from rubbing on the rocks there when there's no one on the boat to toss an anchor out the back and pull it away from shore. But the waves had been mild, and I figured if we where quick it wouldn't be too bad. We hiked back up the hill and went to see if the postcard store that we'd walked past the night before was open. Natchez is a clean town with old brick buildings, and not much going on. The night before, the streets had been nearly vacant as we searched for a resaurant, and I'd wondered if it was out of fear of crime, or just lack of citizens. Many of the stores seem to be in operation, but never open. the post card store seemed to fit into that category. We'd walked away from the gas station to check on the store, and as we'd been walking one of the girls joked that if someone saw us walking they'd probobly stop and warn us that there where no stores this way, and we'd look like stupid tourists. We laughed about this for maybe ten seconds before a city owned pickup truck occupied to two gentlemen in there 30s or 40s. The first thing the said to the girls was that we where walking the wrong way. We just accepted the fact that we looked stupid, and admitted that we didnt' really know the town. The men offered us a ride. Normally I only accept rides from older men or women, but this time I figured the fact that they where both city employees probobly made them safe bets. They turned out to be very nice people, and they explained that the city was actually a very safe place, and that the reason that the streets had been vacant the night before had nothing to do with crime, and everything to do with Monday night football. They took us to a shell station, and waited patiently as we did our thing. As usual we where feeling rushed, and didn't want to keep them waiting for long since they where technically working. So we hurried, and I didn't buy anything as far as beverages or food goes. I just planned on stocking up at the other gas station after we dropped the gas off at the boat. Jenny payed, and we loaded back into the truck, and discussed the citys restaurant situation with the men on our way back to the boat. On the way down the hill we passed aboutfour city trucks, and I hope we didn't get them into any trouble. they dropped us off with a simple goodbye and way less enthusiasm than we're accustomed too, and took off up the hill. We set the gas on Cots, and headed up the hill the the post card store. (I would like to say something about postcards. Aparently postcards and coffee are like nicotine for women! That's almost all they talk about when we're in a town. When I get home I'm planning on developing a beverage that's a combination of coffee and ground up post cards. Hopefully I'll be able to pay off my school loans in a few weeks... No not really) The store was still closed, so we made for the gas station I'd originally found in my Garmin. We headed that way, and the rain pretty much doubled as we went. that's when we found another gift shop. This one was open, and the girls flocked to the postcard stand and picked it clean in minutes... Ok they bought one or two each, but I like the other image better. :) . While they shopped I visited with thestore manager, and she was just thrilled when she learned about what we where doing. She asked me to show her our route on two different maps (gift shops on the Mississippi always have maps) and described our trip to everyone who called the gift shop while we where there. (the first was the store owner, and the other was her son the cop, who advised us to never go out after dark in New Orleans. And we will listen!) We chatted with her for atleast a half an hour, and just before we left she advised us to write and article and send it to her so that she could have it published in the Natchez paper. "The can do that?" I asked. "Sh**, I can do anything!" was her responce. I have her email and address, and we might just take her up on it. Either way, she was probobly one of the nicest people we've met on the trip.

We trudged along biel street, ignoring the rain like I've seen Seattle natives do, untill we came to the final street Garmin said we needed to take. It looked like the ghetto. We took it anyway, and we where astonished to see a shell gasoline symbol on a rickety old shed in a dirt lot. We circled it cautiously, and I was actually kind of relieved when we found it had no door. (I don't like shady businesses.) I gave up the quest for a gas station right then, but wasn't ready to go back to the boat just yet. As we walked I asked a local where a good place to get breakfast was. He directed us to a 5 story hotel a few blocks away that featured two cafes, a restaurant, and a bar inside. We picked out a cafe, and ordered our food. What we got was mushy old hashbrowns, and flavorless doughy pancakes. I ate mine anyway, Jenny ate only the sausage, and Karla ate everything but the grits. Still not quite sure what grits are. They looked like Maltomeal, but Karla reported that it's similaritys ended there, and that she was quite dissatisfied with it's foot like aftertaste.

We finished up, and ventured out into the rain again. It seemed to be letting up now, which was good because I was first shift! We where back on the boat and moving by noon. I put in my two and a half hours, and Karla relieved me while Jenny took the day off since it was a short one anyway. At the end of Karlas shift she'd located two camping options, both side by side, and both in bayou. What exactly is bayou you might ask. Well gimme a second. A bayou, according to Wickipedia, is a body of water in a low lying area. It can be either a slow moving stretch of river (our situation) or a stagnant boggy swamp. Louisana is packed with bayou. Bayous are known for there gator population. We pulled into a little loop off the main river, and tied up to a log sticking up out of the water. Then, while I anchored us out the back, the girls attached some sandwhich meat to a string, and hung it off the front of Cots. I can only imagine the screaming I would have had to endure if the plan had worked. But we didn't even get a nibble. Later that night Jenny cooked, and Karla bloged across from her. I crawled into the bed in the nose of the boat and read. No one was really hungery, so Jenny cooked 2 cans of ravioli, and dinner was over in an hour an a half for a change. Then we assembled my bed, and watched the second half of Lost in Translation. My laptop was able to play it scratched or no. Jenny and I liked it, and Karla... not so much. It was still early, so we started and watched half of dances with wolves before bed.