Part-3

   I had done it. I had entered, what I was to find out later was Mississippi's version of the famed Area 51, the secretive base in Nevada known for its testing of new technology and of course the alien space ship find of the early 5o's.
    I'm going to be a good Democrat and divulge a national defence secret At Camp Shelby, Gopher Tortoises are being trained. They willprobably be involved in unconstitutional activities. The Bushies and the Army need to be stopped.
    It's just my way of protecting you.
    If you see a stray, I advise not fooling with it. I advanced down the gravel road, slowly, all the time expecting armed forces in tortoise camoflage to bushwack me. Then I'd be escorted to Leavenworth to serve out my year, me not being able to come up with the the $10K. I'd be waterboarded and they would review my website, which, no doubt, would create further questions. Maybe I'm just being paranoid and fantacizing. I have the ACLU and Red Cross phone numbers just in case.
     Whatcha think, Fred?

See any tortoises? Any commandoes?

I arrived in McLain. No pictures were taken there, I being still a bit skitish from being on federal property. I was eyeing the long arm of the law and he was eyeing me.. I left, looking for Old MS 24. How I found it was a miracle because my map didn't jive with what was on the ground. Then I saw:
"Neely-12 miles" or so. I continued.

I crossed this bridge, slowly, my bridge crossing speed.

And, lookie, lookie, what I saw.

I backtracked and turned on, yes, Old MS 24.

And, lookie lookie, what I came to.

That's the Leaf River Bridge over the famed Leaf River, a tributary of the famed Pascagoula River.

I got to Neely, I think, and passed through it, unnoticed by me or anyone else. I believe Neely is an area. Nothing clicked. I made my way to Byrd and saw Ranch Road. That clicked. I turned down its heavily graveled bed, realizing that the gravel was what Ray had wanted to avoid, probably for my sake, me being the "guest" on that tour and him not knowing me very well. Yes, it was a bit loose and I slid from side to side, once doing a complete circle, banking against the sides of the ditches to return to the opposite ditch again. Finally I powered the old girl into to a straight line and dropped the hammar, gravel flying and tire-a-chirping. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see only a tornado of dust following the worn Kenda tire as we escaped only to slow and stop for a picture of this barn and..........

.......out building featuring another tractor garage, no doubt.

The Byrd Country Store was next. Lots of Byrds in these woods.

Soon, after Rancho, pavement returned as I crossed Thompson Creek.

I was now in Hintonville.

Another MPM presented itself. There were many more but I liked this grouping the best. A pre-1974 Jeep and 50's era Chevy truck. Maybe.

Yes, I was on track. Evidently Fagan had routed us up Neely Road until we got to MS.63. I remembered that. There was a lot of confusion and Ray was forced to stop at a restaurant and eat another breakfast and do more Garminizing. (the GPS thing) Evidently the scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, three cups of coffee and a slice of apple pie had worked because, in deed, I have a pre-Katrina picture of this, the old Hintonville Store.

I crossed MS 15, now on Hintonville Rd, No.2, no joke.

I stopped, u-turned and went in the ditch. I got off the bike and "walked" her out without much fanfare. I stopped, she slightly off the road. I heard some crazy woman hollering at me from down the way. "Who are you, Who are you"? That took me back as I had to think on that one. "Bob Smith" was my reply. I continued, "I'm with 'Confederate History Magazine' and I'm searching for local historical landmarks". I immediately asked her if the building was an old train depot. I find if you ask the questions first, it is disarming and "they" become important and forget about you. She said, "No!, that's my Grandpappy's house. He homesteaded the whole area and the graveyard is down the way". I almost bit but she was so surly she took me back. It might have been just "her way", but I wasn't going to pursue this conversation. She could have been a gold mine or a land mine, I wasn't going to find out. I thanked her and she didn't respond.
I may have made the right decision, or maybe she was disappointed about not being on the pages of CHM.

I re-crossed the Leaf River on my way down to New Augusta on US 98.
Now, there's a nice place. (the house, I know nothing about New Augusta)

At New Augusta I went south on 29 into the Desoto National Forest once more. I hooked up with Fire Tower Road which is a nice lane through the forest. It hit Brooklyn and I just retraced my ride back home the easy, lazy way. I was past the Tortoise Training Area which I had feared revisiting.

After a day or two I was ready to do it again. I thought.