6/24/00
Vicksburg, Mississippi
Mileage 100.86 miles
Max. 26 mph
Avg. 14.06 mph

This was an important day for several reasons. For some time now I haven't tried the century distance. Reestablishing that I could here in the East helped refigure the itinerary. I had been assuming that this portion of the trek would prove more difficult and that daily mileages would be lower. Today showed that might not be true.

Crossing the Mississippi was also important. I am a person of the East. I grew up on that side of the nation, and my home now is on that side. From a psychological and familiogical point of view, I am now on home turf. That may seem odd or even quaint, but there it is.

The day was made up of several interesting events. The route itself was flat after Monroe. That's why the pace was higher overall.

Towns were small and spaced at 5 and 10 mile intervals. Delhi (pronounced Del Hi) had a unique origin to its name. The local newspaper editor, Mr. Collingham, related the history. We met outside the Saljobar Restaurant. That name came from an elementary school naming contest that combined the first few letters of the owners' daughters (Sally, Joleen, and Barbara). That was over 50 years ago.

The editor told me that at one time two wealthy families hired a tutor who rode back and forth from farm to farm. During one series of lessons his pupils read a poem about Delhi, India. At the location of present Delhi he carved the name into a chestnut tree that stood by the railroad tracks. Rail workers saw the carving, began to use it as a place name, and it stuck.

Toward the end of the day I knew I would cross the Mississippi River. Early on I learned there were two bridges, one for my road, US 80, and another for I20, the interstate. Along the way I heard conflicting stories about whether the US 80 bridge was open.

Several miles from the old bridge, I called the police department in Vicksburg, and they said it was closed, Meanwhile, I met a guy who lived right next to the bridge. He said he saw people using it all the time and that I would need to lift my bike over a barricade. He also said that the mayor of the small town at the foot of the bridge (Delta) could let me use it. He even gave me Mr. Robert Ott's phone number. I called and left a message then went on to the old bridge.

The barricade turned out to be 12' high and firmly locked--there was no way. I called Mr. Ott again. He was home and related that he had no say over who used the bridge, but he volunteered to drive me over the I20 bridge because he thought the shoulder was too narrow and the route was unsafe. As we passed through the I20 bridge proper, I agreed. Barely two feet of shoulder stood next to roaring truck traffic.

Mr. Ott dropped me on the other side of the old bridge. I offered to pay but he refused. At that point I was in a quandry. The thread I had nurtured for over two thousand miles from the Pacific Ocean was broken by...(its a long story that at its core is an interstate, parish/county spat about money). For me, at issue was the integrity of the trek. Now it was tainted--I could not say I biked coast to coast.

What to do? I wandered down to the Mississippi side gate, which was identical to the one on the Louisiana side. Clearly there was no way to get the bike over, under, or through it. Signs prohibiting access on the bridge were all around in bold red and black.

From gate to gate I judged the distance at over a mile, maybe three and a half all together over and back which would take me about 20 minutes.

I'm not saying that I crawled under the gate and sprinted through the open area in front of a guardhouse that I thought was empty.

I'm not saying that I got 200 yards from the Louisiana side when the guard yelled out of his car window in a booming voice, "Stop right here."

I'm not saying that I said I would meet him at the gate. Then when he opened the Louisiana gate, I took off running back to the Mississippi side finishing up in 21:24, which was not bad for 3.5 miles after 100 miles on a bike.

Maybe the gate was open. I do know I stole away into the hot evening, trek intact.