Ah the morning time! It was so evident that my perspective was often different, usually for the positive, after a good night's sleep and an early morning ride in the sun. I was heartened about entering Mississippi too. I spent long periods of time in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas, and now the states were becoming much shorter. I only spent four days in Arkansas and two of them were greatly limited riding days due to poor weather. I liked this adjacent photo, with the sun gleaning prettily on the flat plains. The sign with arrows to two other states (Mississippi and Louisiana) was kind of noteworthy.

The Mississippi River - Highway 82 Bridge 15 miles of riding brought me to the unnamed bridge over the Mississippi River. This is a narrow, two-lane highway, and fortunately, there was not too much traffic on the road, although there was enough to keep me quite alert. The lack of much shoulder was troubling indeed, especially considering each side of traffic had little room themselves to pull around me. (The best a driver could do is "lean" toward the middle as it passed me.) Climbing up the bridge, I realized I needed to ride hard and did just that! There was one instance, however, where a few cars and trucks behind me patiently waited to pass until there was no oncoming traffic; I guess leaning to the middle was too close for comfort for the immediate driver behind me. At the center of the bridge, I climbed onto the metal ledge with my bike and stood for a few minutes to take in all the scenery. Cars and trailer trucks whizzed by me just left of the white line as I enjoyed the view! :) When I was all done, I busted my ass* off the bridge as quickly as I could, and waited for just the right moment when there appeared to be little traffic coming on the eastbound side. As I rode down, linear portions of the road with metal teeth had me nervous about riding over - the potential for flats or being shaken was admittedly a little worse while riding slower as I came up the bridge. I was making good time and neared the end of the bridge, but I could hear the loud noise of at least one trailer truck downshifting behind me. Closer and closer they came, all the while I was watching the road carefully and staying strong and balanced to get through the metal teeth and bumps in the road. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! As the truck loud and vibrating rumbling reached me, it was one of the few times where I really sensed some danger: "You know, I could see myself dying here. This could be it. I can see it now: All my wonderful experiences will go untold because I'm going to die on this bridge in Mississippi. And my younger brother (my primary contact) will have to take care of things. What a sad story!" Thankfully, the two trailer trucks passed me courteously in that narrow segment of highway before I reached the shoulder. In retrospect, I wonder if there was a better and safer way to cross the river by bicycle in this southern region. Highway 84 (Natchez), Highway 80/I-20 (Vicksburg) and Highway 49 (Helena, AR) are all possibilities in Mississippi that, if I did this ride again, I would research more. * - I noticed I began to use a few slang terms to describe either riding hard or riding an impressively long distance. "Bust my ass," "hauling ass" or "booking it" were three terms I kept using from time to time. How is that for useless bicycling lingo? ;)

The Great River of America From the standpoint of lighting, the views to the north were the best. You are looking at the Mississippi River in the adjacent photos with Arkansas to the left and Mississippi to the right. For those of you who might be foreigners, the Mississippi River is the "great river" of America that serves as the primary river for the drainage of the vast middle portion of America. For some, there is something special about "crossing the Mississippi" that is usually recognized by travelers, for its length, size and status. I had already crossed some significant rivers: the Colorado River (CA/AZ), Rio Grande (NM), Pecos River (NM), Brazos River (TX), Red River (AR) and Ouachita River (AR), but I think I became caught up in the novelty of the good ol' Mississippi. Mark Twain, historic steamboats, Native Americans traveling by canoes, all that. :)

A New Bridge Under Construction Facing southward (left photo), down the river, a bridge is currently under construction. This larger bridge (with hopefully more lanes and shoulder?) will serve as Highway 82's bridge in the future. It was somewhat strange to stand on a bridge and gaze at another bridge down the river, but it is a very pretty view, isn't it? I also included the southerly view of the Arkansas side (right). The dock looks like a peaceful place to sit, read a book and drop a fishing line into the water. :)

	Mississipppi ... It's Like Coming Home! No more Arkansas. I was ready for Mississippi and was impressed with their endearing state slogan! :) Off the bridge right here, I stopped for a few minutes to send out congratulatory text messages announcing my arrival in Mississippi to friends. It was only 8:20 a.m. CST, and I thought it would be nice to alert people in the Mountain and Pacific time zones to the fact I was already on the bike and making great progress. :)
Greenville, Mississippi Above: At the time, I mistakenly did not capture any photos at Kwik Keys & Bicycle Shop in Greenville, but a picture of the storefront is hopefully coming soon!	I arrived in Greenville and found myself a little stressed riding through the small city. Still, I was relieved to make it to Kwik Keys & Bicycle Shop, a busy lock and key business that has a small bicycle repair shop in the back. I introduced myself with my bike by my side. Jennifer, my amazing research assistant, already called ahead and confirmed they could replace my worn-out road bike tire with a new one in stock. "The new tire is not the same brand. Do you want that?" asked the gentleman behind the counter. "Well, as long as it fits ... yeah." I noticed some sharpness and "attitude" in my response. He asked a simple question, but I was tired and it somehow triggered some of my previous frustrations with "can't do" bicycle shops from past derailer problems. A few minutes later, I apologized for my snippiness and the man said he did not even notice a harsh tone of voice. As my new tire was installed, I conversed with the other workers in the shop. They were amazed I was bicycling across America and a younger man sitting behind a computer said he vacations regularly in Colorado. He complained about it being hot all the time in Mississippi, and in turn, I complained about how long and merciless Colorado winters are. We had a connection! These people at Kwik Keys were so nice and kind, and the new back tire looked great. Feeling upbeat and blessed, I rode off ... A half mile down the road, I got a flat tire in the back. Flat Tire #1 (6th overall) Being so close to the bicycle shop on the very busy five-lane highway with stores, services and a whole lot of debris that caused the flat, I decided to go back to the bike shop. I did not want the long hassle of changing the tire myself and really liked having the wheels really hard and firm from a quality pump that can easily reach the recommended 120 pounds of pressure. In contrast, my wimpy carry-on pump was quite a pain to air up tires well and it usually took forever! I entered back into the shop and the man was really apologetic. It was almost like he took ownership of his community and I could tell he felt really bad for me. I sensed he really wanted me to have a good riding experience in Mississippi! Upon examining the wheel, the hole from the piece of metal was so large, than he gave me a new tire free of charge. Are you sure? Oh come on, you don't have to do that! The shop charged me so little as it was and I told him that directly. Maybe it was because of his southern charm, but it was futile to resist his kindness. Fair enough. :) I waited another 30 minutes as other customers were attended to, and then I walked out with another brand new tire, hard as a rock and filled to the brim with air! <:-D One fearful thought did occur to me. Um, I am going back on that busy highway with all that junk and sand on the side of the road. What if I get another flat? I fretted a bit and asked the man if there was a route around this busy business section of Highway 82. He did warn me about the poor roads in Mississippi alright. He suggested I ride on Old Leland Road east from Greenville to Leland to avoid Highway 82, but it looked somewhat out of the way. Anyway, thank heavens for this bike shop. My old tire really needed to be replaced, and their friendliness is something that to this day I greatly treasure.
	Oh my. This is what the shoulder looks like nearly the entire way from Greenville to Itta Bena. Oh and don't get your hopes up for getting past Itta Bena. Why? Because the road actually gets worse. Yes worse! As if it could. Look closely at the adjacent photo. I had about 18 inches of shoulder - actual flat concrete - to ride. The lack of width inhibited me from riding harder and keeping my body loose, because I was constantly focused on staying balanced on the pavement. Many cars passed around me, but when both lanes were occupied, cars whizzed semi-close to me too. Not good. In the portions where there were not many vehicles on the two driving lines, I could ride left of the white line. The problem was, once a car approached, I needed to ride over the rudders that gave a terrible bouncing feeling to get back on the slither of shoulder. It was a total pain to ride back and forth over those rudders, and flat tire inducing debris tends to collect inside the small wells. Oh and lastly, that narrow area of shoulder had some rough areas with sand, pebbles and debris, meaning I had to choose between two equally bad choices: Riding my tires through the junk or go on the rudders ... but only if there were no vehicles in my vicinity. It was just awful out there from a bicycling perspective. Now in Graham, Texas, during that long day off, the resolution to finish the trip was born. The seed sprouted in northeast Texas and grew with the unleashed dogs in Arkansas. Now, as I rode miserably for about 30 miles on that tiny portion of shoulder, my determination had come into full bloom: I am going to ride as quickly as possible to finish this. Just get it done!
Indianola, Mississippi	All things considered, I rode well across large cotton farm areas in Sunflower County and arrived in Indianola, Mississippi. I reached a traffic light where there was (for lack of a better word) a "Jesus preacher" right there on the corner. He held a sign reading "church service at Noon" and was joyfully preaching and encouraging people to come out. Ah, the Bible belt! He was an amusing character, an older fellow, and his shirt read "Got Jesus?" He looked over at me and with a smile I said, "Actually yes, I do have Jesus." "That's right. That's why you're smilin'. It don't matter what you're goin' through, 'cause you know it's gon' be okay with Jesus!" he shouted. His spiritual boldness and the personal contact put a big grin on my face. I tried to explain I was bicycling across the country, but I do not think he understood me. The hum of idle cars at the intersection drowned out my voice probably. A few seconds later, the light turned green and I was riding off. A significant part of me wanted to get a picture of him (or maybe with him!), but I did not pull out the camera. I had a rare and uncharacteristic moment of self-consciousness, where I felt funny getting a picture with him with all those cars on the road. I peddled off and shortly past the intersection, I changed my mind. Okay, I have got to document this, thinking of this very page and how I already mistakenly did not get a picture of the Kwik Keys shop. I pulled right into a gas station and considered my options: Should I photograph the Jesus preacher with him not looking? Or should I park the bike and walk over there? I stood in the gas station lot a little confused, just standing there, probably seeming like I was in deep thought. Then a sharp-dressed man (adjacent photo), wearing a tie and hat, approached me. He was pumping gas with his wife sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle. He was really friendly, asking me what I was doing and we talked about my ride across America. He shared about his background - His family roots go way back to living in this area since the late 1800's. Wow! I do not remember too much else from our conversation, but I know I felt overwhelmed by his kindness. He had a spirit of willingness to help me in any way he could. For whatever reason, I never got a picture of the roadside preacher and rode farther into the town to have lunch. Yesterday I knocked the South for all its problems with loose dogs, but today, I want to commend these people for their profound friendliness. By far, Mississippi had the friendliest people throughout the entire route!
	Flat Tire #2 (7th overall) Approaching the Leflore County line, I had my second flat of the day in the back tire. Darn! If I had to guess, the pebbles and occasional debris caused the flat, although whatever punctured the tire was not lodged in the rubber. I changed the tire without a hitch. I was a little troubled to have two flat tires in a day, but I was not that alarmed and was kind of proud over how well I handled it. I was ready to go.

Flat Tire #3 (8th overall) - An Encouraging Man In Itta Bena Above: A coincidence? This young man at an Itta Bena gas station had some unique encouragement for me. Read on. I had another flat tire about five to eight miles down the road near Itta Bena. This was starting to tick me off! Once again, it was that back tire on the thin shoulder with some debris. What was going on? My mind wrestled with the possibilities: 1) Was the new tire installed one of low quality? I found this hard to believe, and the tire looked just fine. But why have I gotten three flats all so soon after having it installed? The people were so kind and helpful at the Greenville bike shop. I did not know what to think, and I felt bad for even considering this was the fault of the bike shop. 2) Was I being spiritually attacked again? Bah! This time, it seemed like a "cop out" to spiritualize all this. Three flat tires in one day is a total pain in the ass, but it is not the end of the world. Plus, I get weary sometimes when others tend to spiritualize everything that happens in life. 3) Mississippi's roads are crap! I went with this one, and I am fairly sure I was right. All the evidence pointed to the fact that sharp debris on the thin shoulders was the problem. It made the most sense. Anyway, I noticed I had a much better attitude about fixing flats today, and I changed the tube at a Shell station across from Mississippi Valley State University. By this time, I had rode 64 miles from Lake Village, Arkansas - not a bad amount of mileage so far - but these time consuming snags (three flat tires and one bike shop visit) were really frustrating. I started my ride at 7:15 a.m., and it was already 3 p.m. Right before changing my tube, I bought some snacks and a drink inside the convenience store and I probably looked really sweaty and stoic in my cycling gear. "What are you doing? You've been riding hard?" asked the young cashier. I explained how I began in Lake Village this morning and was riding to Greenwood, when a customer next to me interjected. "I was driving my truck back and forth on the highway this morning. I saw you crossing the Mississippi River and have seen you riding all day. I thought, 'This guy is hardcore with the distance he's going.'" Oh my goodness! This totally made my day! I joked with the cashier that this proved I was not lying about my riding distance and I thanked this man wearing Mississippi Valley State attire for his encouragement. He was off-duty now and had been driving his truck frequently on Highway 82 this day, and being the only bicyclist out there, I guess it was easy to recognize me. I made it clear that he totally made my day with that comment, and when he walked out toward his car, I just knew I had to boldly ask for his photo. (Large photo above) "You have no idea how much that made my day." I said one more time with glee, "Thank you sir!" Okay maybe, just maybe, the frustrations with the flat tires were for a reason ... this reason. This jubiliant feeling I felt when this man totally brightened my day with that encouraging comment of substance. I changed the tube confidently, making sure there were no sharp objects still lodged in tire, pumped up the tire and off I went.

Above: A swamp area with trees near Greenwood.

Flat Tire #4 (9th overall) I modified my destination plan of Winona and settled for Greenwood, a mere nine miles down the road. Piece of cake! I began riding when nervousness crept in. What if I get another flat tire? Bump, bump, bump. The road was showing more debris and sand on the shoulder as I rode. At least some parts of the shoulder had an actual car's length of space, I thought. I went a few miles when I began approaching harrowing patches of sand and debris. Really thick mounds of sand! Oh crap. Watch out! Be careful in that stuff. I was only a few miles outside of Greenwood, and cars were whizzing by me. There was no possibility of pulling out on the white line. Then I heard the sound. Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff! I did not even need to look down; I knew the back tire was flat. Four flat tires in one day. How about that? I was bewildered. Before deciding what to do, I walked down to the roadside to look at a swamp and take pictures for a few minutes. It was nice to take a radical change in my environment and absorb the pretty and peaceful nature scene of this spot. I walked back to my bike and made a decision: I am not going to change this tire again. Why bother changing it when there is a good chance I'll get another flat in this fiercely sandy and dirty shoulder? I could not ride anywhere else (the road was too busy with rush hour traffic), and I only had two tubes left anyway. Realizing Greenwood was just a few miles up the road, I did the unthinkable: I stuck my thumb out to hitchhike. Numerous cars flew by me, and no one would pick me up. I maximized my appearance as best as I could: I wore all of my bright red cycling gear and held my red and white helmet in my hand, to show drivers that I was not some scary homeless person or criminal on the loose. I was a legitimate and harmless bicyclist who just needed a ride! Still no luck. I decided to walk to Greenwood.