After the horrible trail conditions on the Yockanookany Section, we needed a break. We landed at the Jeff Busby Campground, which is the middle of three free campgrounds on the Natchez Trace. Unlike the Rocky Springs Campground, however, this one had working bathrooms and potable water available from the sinks. As an added bonus, there was a well-maintained 1.5 mile trail that ran up a little mountain to an overlook and picnic area.

We ended up staying for four nights, hiking the trail several times, chatting with other vanlifers, jamming with a traveling musician, Joe Hartman, reading, eating and relaxing. The wood thrush were amazing, serenading us every morning and evening. The synchronous fireflies were putting on their show. We made Tik Tok videos of giant insects we came across. We could have stayed longer, but the last two sections of the scenic trail beckoned us.

We drove north to Tupelo, where there are six more miles on the Natchez Scenic Trail, the site of an old Chickasaw village, and the headquarters for the Natchez Trace Parkway. The headquarters was nothing much, with no rangers to answer questions about the trail conditions ahead, an uninformed volunteer, and no water to refill our tanks. We tried to stealth in the parking lot behind the headquarters for the first night, but a Parkway trouper happened by and told us we couldn’t park there overnight. He suggested we try one of the three free campgrounds (the closest was the one we’d just come from, 90 miles away). It was asically, “I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here.” We’re beginning to understand that the Natchez Trace Parkway just isn’t hiker friendly.

So we stealth camped in Tupelo at a Planet Fitness one night and at a Walmart one night, while we day-hiked this section. Fortunately, the trail was in better condition here, being so close to an urban area. But the forest, itself, was very narrow. In some cases it was only a couple hundred feet wide and the Parkway was within sight and/or hearing most of the hike.

We continued north, stopping to read many of the historical markers along the way, identifying remnants of the old Natchez Trace, or an ancient Indian mound, or the locations of the several “stands” along the way that served as resupply and resting points for merchants, postal riders, pioneers and others who traveled the Trace.

A 120 miles north of Tupelo, we stopped at the Meriwether Lewis Campground, the northernmost free campground on the Parkway. This was the site where Lewis was either murdered or committed suicide while on his way to Washington, D.C. A monument sits atop his gravesite. This was the best of the three campsites by far, but we only stayed a couple of days before we departed for the last section of our hike.

The northernmost section, called the Highland Rim Section and about 24 miles long, was some of the best hiking on the Natchez Scenic Trail, but it was also some of the most disheartening. The trail was clearly better maintained with fewer blow-downs. But the grasses and briars were seriously encroaching on the trail in many places, so ticks were still an issue. The worst part of this, though, is that there is no officially approved locations where you can camp or park if you are trying to hike the entire trail… not at the trailheads and not at the bicycle-only campgrounds for people biking the whole Parkway.

After our first 11-mile in-and out hike on this section, we tried to stay overnight at one trailhead, only to be chased away by a local farmer who informed us that the gravel road next to the trailhead was his driveway and his family had been there 5 generations, and he was calling the police unless we left. It was after dark, but we didn’t want trouble so we moved to the next trailhead for the night.

Two days later, with only 5 miles of trail left to hike, we were parked at another trailhead right off the Parkway. This time, it was another Parkway trouper who stopped and told us we couldn’t stay there. He was nice enough, but even though he understood we were hiking and had only 5 miles to go, his only advice was to backtrack 45 miles to the last campground or go to the nearest town. Twenty-five miles of country roads and an hour later, we were parked at another Walmart.

Very dejected about the whole experience, we nearly decided to quit the Natchez Trace then and there. But in the end and with only 5 miles to hike, we didn’t want to be defeated by this trail, the National Park Service, and those who had no understanding of the trail and hiking. Se we drove back the next morning, hiked the last few miles, drove to the northern terminus of the Parkway, and shared a huge sigh of relief.

~~~

We had gone into this hike, enamored by the history of the Natchez Trace, the beautiful pictures on the NPS website, and our previous experience with the amazing Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia/North Carolina. This adventure failed on all three counts.

The interpretive history that was presented all along Trace lauds the white European explorers and pioneers that expanded into this area, while white-washing much of the tragedy of the forced removal of the native peoples from whom this land was stolen. The trail itself is so damaged from recent storms and so poorly maintained – especially the southern half – that it’s not a fun hike at all. And finally, with no camping on the trail itself, no overnight parking at trailheads, no safe water, we’ve concluded that this trail, this park service, and these local communities are the least hiker-friendly bunch we have ever encountered.

The Natchez Trace National Scenic Trail is a big “thumbs down” and we would discourage people from anything other than a short day hike. And only then, if you happened to be traveling by anyway.