Sweet Alabama to Show Me Missouri

Our route yesterday was planned to avoid Memphis. We drove away from the holler knowing that it would be a long time before we ever found another campground that interesting. The mile-long back road wound past decrepit trailer houses and churches with graveyards. This area of gently rolling hills (outposts of the Appalachians) and mixed forests will be beautiful when the spring buds finally break out. For now, just a few trees have blossoms and winter still has hold.

It wasn't long until we crossed the line into Mississippi. At Tupelo, Elvis Presley's hometown, we turned north and in short order we were in Tennessee. Logging is prevalent here, and several precariously log-filled trucks passed us. We kept our distance. We stopped for lunch at a place I couldn't pass up: Greens, Beans, and Taters (without commas). How could we pass by that? One last opportunity for downhome Southern cooking, and it was worth it! Towards the end of our driving day, we came into Missouri. Last night we stayed in Cape Girardeau in a mundane campground that had the appeal of wifi, cable tv, hot showers, and a restaurant next door. We appreciate all of these luxuries, but it's no Sleepy Holler!

This morning we awoke to find that we had some puddles around us from the all-night rain. Having camped in a swamp at James Island, it didn't seem so bad. Now we are unhooked and heading to the big obstacle of the day, St. Louis. We will still be in Missouri tonight, just this side of Kansas City. The slog continues.