Life on the Delta

One of my first orders of business in Mississippi was to wash the sheets, pillowcases and the cover for the comforter on my bed. Once they were all clean, the yurt felt much more welcoming.

The farm here is run by Jon, a divorcee in his mid-40’s. Jon lives in a small house with his aging mother and has a 5-year-old daughter who spends half her time here. He’s super friendly and works part-time as a substitute science teacher when he’s not tending farm. Here on his property, about four acres, he grows a few gardens of cabbages, strawberries, peppers and kale. His main business, however, is livestock. He raises chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese (the latter two mostly for pets), but his primary income comes from breeding goats.

Right now Jon has about 10 goats, and all of them are pregnant except for the single male. One of them, Daisy May, is almost ready to pop, so I may witness a goat birthing in the next few days (keep your fingers crossed—not only that I get to see it, but that I handle it better than that birthing video from 9th grade). Sometimes Jon milks them, but not often. His income comes from selling the kids at livestock auctions.

A very pregnant goat.

My work here so far has been to uproot three gardens overrun by tall, grassy weeds. That occupies most of my 5-hour work days, and I have one day off each week. The weeds look horrendous, but pulling them out is surprisingly easy—partly because I don’t have to be careful about what I pull up (except for a few obvious cabbage plants) and partly because the dry clay soil here lets them go without much effort. I usually have company, either from the turkeys that eagerly dive into the upturned soil in search of bugs or from a gigantic black snake that wanders from garden to garden. I jumped about ten feet the first time I saw that snake. Only moments earlier, Jon told me to watch my step because poisonous snakes are common here. Before it slithered away, I called Jon to come and take a look at it. He assured me it was a non-poisonous king snake, adding that they’re good to have around because they eat the poisonous snakes.

Weeding, before & after.

Everyone in the area here is a big football fan, especially with Ole Miss (U of Mississippi) right up the road. On my second day, it was declared that the college was changing its mascot from the Rebel Colonel to the Rebel Black Bear, the idea being that the colonel had too many ties to Mississippi’s confederate past. Personally, I’m not so sure the black bear is the best choice to eliminate any racial connotations.

That same day, Jon asked me if I wanted to go to a bar with him to watch an Ole Miss game against Alabama. I’m not much of a football fan, but then he warned me there would be some hardcore rednecks there. How could I resist? He chose a bar in Water Valley as opposed to the larger and closer town of Oxford for the sake of avoiding the drunk college crowd. It turned out to be a tame evening, but there was definitely no lack of rednecks. Sorry to say, Ole Miss got slaughtered.

So far, I’m liking Mississippi. The work isn’t difficult and the people couldn’t be nicer. And Jon’s mother makes sure I eat well. She is also insistent that Jon gives me enough time off to see Oxford’s many historic sights. My biggest perk so far was tagging along with Jon when he drove to a feed store in Tupelo. That happens to be Elvis’ hometown. When Jon found out that I’m an Elvis fan(atic), he took a detour to show me the shack where he was born.

It kicked ass.

Birthplace of a king... THE king.

Can You Show Me the Way to Utah?

I said goodbye to the folks Thursday morning, then hit the road. I had enough time to take the scenic route, so I traveled across Oregon, Idaho and part of Wyoming the first two days. It poured almost the whole time, but the sky did clear up enough for me to get some nice pictures of the Snake River and a few sights in Idaho Falls. Both nights, I slept in the back seat of my car. I think it’s pointless to spend $50 on a motel just to sleep for a few hours. Besides, the car seat is more comfortable than it sounds. It just sucks being 6’3” and not able to stretch out.

I eat simply on road trips, too. Cold oatmeal with raisins, raw broccoli, bell peppers and a bag of filberts made up most of my diet. That may not sound appealing, but they’re actually all things I really like. And they’re healthy and easy for traveling. Remember, I did work at a natural food store for the past five years.

Wyoming was beautiful, especially as I got into the Rockies. I do my best to avoid interstate highways because they’re boring and mindnumbing. If you stick to the two-lane roads, you travel slower but see so much more. You drive through the middle of every small town along the way and meet far more interesting people. Better scenery, too. And when you need a break, you end up at kitschy diners and pubs instead of McDonalds. After a long evening drive down a muddy gravel road, I came across a tavern called the Elkhorn. The place was in the middle of nowhere—not another town or store for miles—and a big sign outside said “Welcome Hunters.” How could I not go in?

I loved the place, although I did feel like an alien there. Even in the gravel parking lot, my mud-covered Infiniti stood out quite a bit among the long line of pickups. The bar was inside a long, dark wooden room with lots of mounted animal heads and country music blasting over the radio. They served three kinds of beer (Coors, Bud and PBR), but at least a dozen kinds of whiskey. You could pay to roll dice to win a free beer. The bar was more or less busy, and I’m sure I was the only guy there who couldn’t bench press 200 pounds, or who wasn’t shitfaced. I talked to the bartender a bit and she recommended a little known canyon hike to check out when I arrived in Utah. She warned me to check the weather before I go because, as she said, “if it rains in the mountain then the canyon floods fast and you’ll die in minutes. Want another Pabst?”

I slept in the car that night at a turnout in the road somewhere in the Wyoming countryside. Usually, I look for rest areas, but they didn’t exist on that road. When I fell asleep, my vehicle was the only one around. When I woke up in the morning, three big rig trucks surrounded my car. Guess I found a hot spot for roadside naps.

I entered Colorado on day three, bright and sunny. I wasn’t very far from the Utah farm and I had two days to get there, so I decided to enjoy some camping. Looking for a good site led me to drive through Grand Mesa, which took me over a beautiful snow-covered mountain that my car had a tough time climbing. Amazing frozen lakes and rivers were plentiful. It was very tempting to camp there, and I could have done it for free, but I was in the mood for a spot where I could lounge in the warm sun instead of waking up to sub-zero temps. Camping in snowy mountains definitely has its appeal to me, but that would have to wait. In the meantime, I soaked up the scenery and took a ton of pictures.

I ended up settling for a campground at Black Canyon. I never heard of the place before, but it was getting late and I was desperate to find something nearby. I found a site, set up my tent and decided to go for a walk to see what the canyon was all about. The campground was small and not very populated, so I wasn’t expecting much. I hiked about 200 feet away from my tent before I came into a clearing and was completely shocked. This canyon was HUGE! Certainly not as big as the Grand Canyon, but no less breathtaking. You could walk right up to the rim and sit with your feet hanging over the edge, which dropped off 1700 feet straight down to the river below. And quiet—not overcrowded with tourists and screaming kids like the Grand Canyon, even on a Saturday.

The weather was warm enough to sleep outside under the stars. I enjoyed a long night of journaling and staring at my campfire. The next day, the few other campers all left and I had the whole canyon to myself. I spent the whole day hiking and sitting on the canyon edge. That’s when it first really sunk in that I’m unemployed with no home and no income. It scared me a bit until I reminded myself that it also meant no more work drama, no more staring at a computer all day, no more mundane routine. Instead, new opportunities, new experiences and new things to learn. That’s what I wanted, and still want. And that day I learned that you should check for snakes before crawling into a sleeping bag that’s been sitting outside all day.

Doubt it was poisonous.