When I return to 61 north from Vicksburg, I begin to see stretches and stretches of agricultural life.
Acres upon acres of corn and soybeans.
Silo upon silo upon silo.
I pass through a few counties.
I drive by a small town: Cary; then, I reach Rolling Fork.
Muddy Waters calls this city his birthplace.
The shotgun shack (on the left) behind the sign represents the type of housing many sharecroppers used.
Today, we call them tiny houses. If you look at them closely, it's basically the same concept.
By the way, Muddy Waters got his nickname from his grandmother because he liked to play in the mud when he was a kid. His friends tagged on the latter part of his nickname.
The local libary -- Sharkey-Issaquena County -- is within walking distance.
I go online to upload my blog post.
No time limit -- no charge.
Following the library, I head over to the Yazoo Wildlife National Refuge -- right in the heat of the afternoon.
I drive further into what looks like more of the vast Delta farming region.
Finally, I see signs for the Refuge.
I turn into the main signage and a noticeable change appears.
Heavily wooded areas.
Pockets of cold and warm air embrace me as I ride through what seems like a dense forest into nowhere.
I see signs for a butterfly garden and turn into it -- a gravel rock road.
Once I park, I walk around the quaint fenced in space they have for it.
Following the stroll, I call the Warfield Point Park campground -- hoping someone picks up the phone. To my surprise, I hear a voice. I learn that it's pretty dead during the week, so I will have no problem staying there as long as I want.
Charge for tents (with bathrooms and showers): $10 a night.
As I exit the garden to head back on Refuge Road, I see a main ranger station to my left. It looks like hiking might be available. However, it's midday, and it's hot.
I decide to find somewhere to eat first and hopefully, find the campground on a full stomach. The Warfield attendant had mentioned to stay on 1 to find grocery stores and so on...
The route was fairly easy.
The only issue was traffic and a lack of road etiquette.
I see a Kroger, and I pull into it.
I buy a couple of ready-made salads, some water, apricots, and bug-spray. Hungry, I eat the salads outside the grocery store on the sidewalk. No seating is available, so I sit on my leather jacket.
I have no issues finding the campground despite its location on a winding road.
I pass an Entergy plant and see signs for my destination.
When I arrive, I drive around and find an area close to the Mississippi River to set up my camp site. (Apparently, they collect the money when you leave?)
I explore the grounds, the Great River, the lookout tower, the playground, and the bathroom and showers.
I run into a few little kids on bicycles and small motorbikes.
I set up my tent.
Behind it is the Mississippi River!
Later, I shower in hot water and bug-spray; I journal outside on a bench.
Afterwards, I wander around some more -- this time -- taking pictures of the Mississippi River.
I retire early -- somewhere near 8 p.m.
A cicada orchestral piece begins to lull me to sleep until the thunder roars.
Clouds grow dark and swirl; the birds and winds go wild.
I use what little rain gear I have to cover my tent and motorcycle.
Then, it stops.
Just threatening cries.
Luckily, the air around my tent cools.
I close out my evening by adjusting and toying with my pictures on photo editor.
Tomorrow, I head into downtown Greenville to see what will greet me there.
Until we meet again, my friend.