The creature comforts offered by the hotel keep me in bed longer than anticipated. I load up the bike and set out to complete my trek across the very large state of Texas.

The scenery gets increasingly verdant and bucolic as I head east.

Just after noon, I hit the eastern edge of Texas and roll into Louisiana.

My 200 mile journey across central Lousiana looks shockingly like upsate New York where I grew up. The farms, landscape, houses, small towns, smell of fresh cut grass, even the variety of roadkill seems to match. The only differentiation I can discern while passing through is the prevalence of baptist churches and hand painted signs advertising crawfish by the pound.

With bugs on my windshield from the five states I’ve passed through, I hit the 2000 mile mark of my journey somewhere in the middle of Lousiana.

I decide to pull over and check out one of the fish dealers with particularly elaborate hand scrawled signage. I think it was the penmanship of “FRESH GAR” that got me. I walk in to find that there is nobody there. Various tanks of fish and crawfish accompanied by a pungent fishy odor are the subject of my short tour around the space before getting back on my.

Suddenly almost out of nowhere the mighty Mississippi River appears. Riding across the Natchez-Vidalia Bridge is pretty incredible. Crossing the Mississippi enroute from the Pacific to the Atlantic definitely feels like a big milestone. It’s a totally unexpected and very satisfying feeling.

My friend Lorene, who hails from Jackson, MS, suggested that I check out Natchez for the great food and historic architecture. After a few laps around the quaint and very picturesque small town I seek out a place to stay for the night. The Guest House B&B is an antebellum mansion built around 1840 and is surely haunted. Seems like an appropriate place to stay while in a town steeped in so much history.

I wander around town to take in the incredible buildings and vistas of the river before finding a bar to sample another of Lorene’s recommendations- Lazy Magnolia Southern Pecan (pronounced Pakhawn) beer.

The sunset over the Mississippi River is spectacularly romantic. The silhouetted bridge set against the deeply saturated gradient of the sky is a totally unforgettable view.

Dinner is served up at a place called Magnolia Grill. The catfish is all it’s cracked up to be. I definitely plan to have it a few more times on my ride through the state tomorrow. A piece of chocolate pecan pie for dessert puts the experience over the top.

The bar a few doors down with a row of Harleys parked in front and very loud live music leaking into the street, quickly becomes my next stop. The musician turns out to be a bit of a local celebrity. Her slightly raspy voice and subtle twang, accompanied by another southern pecan beer, proves to be the perfect nightcap.