Day# 7: French Camp to Mathiston (sort of) 27.22 miles

ONE FINE PLACE

A restful and relaxing night was spent in our little cottage. We walked the boardwalk to the main house for breakfast served of country hash browns, scrambled eggs and bacon and fresh cantaloupe, which was served at 8:00am. Sissie, the caretaker who had introduced us to several of the boys from the French Camp Academy yesterday afternoon, came in to join us for the latter part of our breakfast. She sat down and looked at all four of us with a serious face and said "I was thinking about you all last night and I have a plan. The weather is expected to get rough and I think you should stay here tonight. You don't want to be in that campground in a storm." We asked about the pavilion at the campgrounds and couldn't we take shelter there if it got bad, or hide out in the restrooms even. Her look was one that we were certain she used on her boys from the Academy in her work detail, don't argue with her. We quickly decided that if a local is strongly asking us not to camp tonight that just maybe we should listen, but we still wanted to ride today. She offered to pick us up in Mathiston, 23 miles up the road, and bring us back to French Camp and then take us back to Mathiston in the morning. She was so convinced that we should do this that she even cleared it with the front registration desk to not book our cottage that we would be staying a second night, before we even had agreed to do so. Surely this was Divine Intervention and we felt like we were being looked out for.
So off we went, sans panniers which we left at the cottage, and set out for Mathiston. It was a morning like the previous, very humid, and the road began to have longer climbs as we made our way to what would have been our campground for the night, Jeff Busby Park. JBP is the highest point on the Trace and there is a mountain called Little Mountain at the end of a long up-winding road in the park. It was at the top of this mountain that we found the pavilion that we had thought would afford protection from the storm. It was very small and in addition the bathrooms up here were locked. Our decision to go back to French Camp for the night was looking like a good one. We rested and enjoyed the long distance views before heading back down the mountain and onward to Mathiston

We pulled off at another historic site for a rest and to read the history of the area. It was yet another spot on the Parkway where the original Trace was very visible and accessible. We had just pulled in when a large motor home pulled in behind us and out stepped a friendly couple traveling a portion of the Trace on their way home to Maine. Their names are Muriel and Harold Parks and they travel the South in their motor home during the winter. We exchanged travel stories when Mitch couldn't stand it anymore and felt compelled to tell them that he couldn't help but to notice that the license plate on their motor home was from Maine. He went on to tell them that they have a Christmas tradition in his family to write and read an essay. Well, one year the theme was 'Why Would I Want to Go to Maine in a Motor Home?' He proudly announced that he won the essay contest that year, and here, on the Natchez Trace, is a motor home from Maine. (Rand and Marilyn this is for you) We visited some more and took their pictures next to the information sign and then down in the original Trace which they had not even noticed. We cracked up because no matter how hard Harold tried with his

Northeastern accent, he could not say Natchez. He would say "yes, we love the Nachos Trace". We would correct him and and tell him how to pronounce it and it still came out sounding like nachos to us every time.

We said our goodbyes and headed the final 3 miles to our destination, Trace-Way Restaurant in Mathiston, where we were told the plate lunch was excellent. None of us ordered it. Hah! We all ordered off the menu and the food was great.

Sissie picked us up as promised and brought us back to French Camp in her truck. We dropped our bikes off and she then drove us around the community and told us the history of the French Camp Academy. It is a non-denominational Christian based boarding school primarily serving underprivileged, single parent kids, and troubled youths. We were amazed at the campus layout, the dormitory buildings, staff housing, stables, cabins for summer campers, and lakeside facilities, all tucked neatly into the trees just out of sight from the Parkway. Who knew that this even existed, and has been here since 1885 when it was originally setup to first serve as a school for girls. Very quickly dormitories were added for boys and Indian children were served as well. The dedication by the staff and the people who live in the French Camp community to the Academy and to these kids was remarkable to see. She then told us that for $3 each we could eat in the dining hall that evening when the kids came in for supper. We were in. Supper was served cafeteria style and was "breakfast for supper." We had bacon and sausage, scrambled eggs and grits, seasoned potatoes and gravy, and fresh cinnamon rolls with a ooey gooey caramel pecan glaze. OMG! Those were the bomb. We were stuffed once again.

Now we're back at the cottage waiting on the storm that we've been told should arrive between 8:00 and 9:00 tonight. Bring it.

The address of everyone living in French Camp is "their name" @ One Fine Place, French Camp MS.

We would agree, it is One Fine Place

POSTED BY: Suzy