"How far is it to Miles City?"

Have to write fast; no time to edit.
One of the best Andy Griffith episodes is "What's your hurry?", when the executive's car broke down in Mayberry. The whole idea on a day like yesterday is not to count mile posts and miles, but to enjoy the journey.
Witch Dance, (www.nps.org), and Leonard's 3-Way in French Camp were two of yesterday's highlights. After getting a wolf-whistle from a local at Leonard's, one of the few country stores or hotels in Mississippi not owned and operated by Indians, I decided that the last thing to jettison is your loose-fitting camo cargo shorts. These are a must to slip over biking shorts when stopping at rural stores.
But, as a law professor of mine used to say, "I digress".
So the day started at the Tupelo Vis. Center where I quickly made friends with Sam and Pat, two guys who reenact pioneer days on Saturdays. This friendship was solidified when I mentioned that I joined the Son's of Confederate Veterans at an early age.
"What chapter?" said Pat, testing me.
"Nathan Bedford Forrest" I replied confidently.
With a broad grin and handshake, they agreed to impose upon everyone who stopped to see the exhibit that was headed south and ask them to carry my gear to Koscuisco.
As I said earlier, I had a great ride.
110 miles were covered. I felt like I was sailing without the trailer.
Averaged 15.5 miles.
Some things I recall.
Ibuprophen and anything that ends in "ine" such as caffiene, nicotine, help the very serious aches.
(I confess to chewing on a cigar i.e. Josey Wales to either help the pain or to offset the outfit I am wearing while riding.)
Some songs stuck in my head include:
James Cleland"s version of "What a Friend".
Pat Green's "Dixie Lullaby"
John Hartford's "Lorena", which I request be played at my funeral.
Elvis' version of "Dixie".
Mountain Heart's version of "HOw Tedious and Tasteless".
Norman Blake's version of "Southern Railroad Blues" and "Green LIght on the Southern".
Tony Rice's version of "Why You Been Gone So Long".
There are less hardwoods the farther south you travel, but it is good to see the pines.
"In the Pines" is another great song...
Right now I have to go.
I am staying at a fine BandB downtown Kosciusco, which happens to be the town where my poor ole Daddy brought his eighteen y.o. bride to live shortly after marrying her after knowing her a total of six weeks. They lived here for awhile while he worked for United Gas Company. Anyway, I found their great friend Ms. Jackie Martin, who was glad to hear from me b/c they lost touch 50 years ago.
I am going to get some "Moe" stories from her, as she is coming here to have coffee before church.
(Her husband died last year).
Give my half of the cattle to... Toot Toot
P.S. You can smell fried catfish from the Trace near sunset a mile south of Kosciusco, but you can't get to where it is cooking on a bicycle.