Speed limit is 50 mph, and heavily patrolled. Anyone who claims to have ridden the length of this purgatory has a skill I never hope to achieve - being able to completely switch off their brain. Going south and west in Mississippi is to go back in time. The towns become post card models of tree lined court house squares. The stately patrician mansions still sparkle white, huddled under shade of giant sycamores.
Some plantations are historical preserves, and some are still working.
Shanty towns housing field workers still exist on smaller two lane backroads. The Old South slumbers on. At last again I come to the Great River Road, which is indeed near the river but after 40 miles I still haven't seen a glimpse of water. Eventually Natchez comes to crouch on the banks, giving one of the only two non-Interstate bridges to Louisiana across the big river north of New Orleans. The eastern portion of my trip is done.