I take another shower, having taken one last night, and being grateful for the opportunity. I toast the hotel’s English muffin and use my own peanut butter and jelly before continuing east. This morning has me crossing the Mississippi River, where an artist in 1954 had the idea of building the pyramids of Giza at two-thirds their size for their namesake in Egypt. The tenth-tallest pyramid in the world was built in 1991 as a 20,000-seat arena. In 2015, it became a megastore, complete with a hotel, restaurants, a bowling alley, an archery range, and an outdoor observation deck.

I saw the Bass Pro Shops sign, and that was the last I thought about it. Ducks Unlimited operates a museum on waterfowl hunting and wetlands conservation inside the store. This pyramid would’ve been worth the visit, but sometimes the better looking the building, the fewer people allowed in, especially in a room with a view. This is when the adage, “It never hurts to ask,” would have come in handy. Instead, I drove further north up the river to Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park. I avoided the red velvet ants, which sound petworthy, but are also called “cow killer” for their extremely painful sting.

The park is a welcome stop after two-plus hours in the car, but the attack of mosquitoes is always an inconvenience. It just matters what mood I’m in, how much I want to be stung, since I know I’m in their territory and yet refuse to wear deterrent spray. There are more hiding in the car from last night as I make my way back to Memphis. I got lucky at one intersection because of a faded sign from another direction, but I’m approaching a stop sign and get lucky enough to stop a girl in her truck with my lost-looking face, who asks which way I’m going.

I respond, any direction that doesn’t have me living in this neighborhood. She smiled, told me a right at the stop sign, and then a left at the next one. Thank you. This led me past Overton Park, where an eight-foot-tall bronze monument of E.H. “Boss” Crump was erected to honor his significant role in Memphis politics. I continue on to the Memphis Brooks Museum of Art, where the current exhibit, Brooks Outside: Outings Project, takes painted characters and puts them on façades around the city. Casabianca has installed his paper murals in over 50 cities, with their museums as the inspiration.

I could have looked for the twenty pieces in Memphis, but I chose a list of historic houses that the lady behind the counter was kind enough to print out. I drive by slowly, like I’m in a parade, waving to some folks as I take pictures of houses with a porch swing, lion statues, fireplaces, and golf course-like yards. They are at least two stories and built mostly in Tudor Revival, Queen Anne Victorian, and English Gothic styles, which explains their ornate designs. The Annesdale Park Subdivision was the first in the South to be planned upon metropolitan lines (for urban growth) in 1903.

I let the idea of one day living in a house with stained-glass windows carry me through the morning. It helped that no neighbor’s dwelling looked like the other, unlike many an apartment or high-rise in dense city living. I’m glad I’ve not had to live near the chaos that is downtown in any of the states I’ve called home. In Bahrain, we lived near American Alley, where parades and parties were the norm on holidays, weddings, and home team wins. By the time I reached the Pink Palace Museum and Planetarium, a building that appears to be at least three (large, historical) houses combined, I was hungry.

Clarence Saunders, the founder of Piggly Wiggly, started construction in 1922. The building was incomplete when he went bankrupt in 1928, and developers gave it to the city. It became the Museum of Natural History in 1930. It was renamed in 1967. I detoured around a very slow train and found myself at The Four Way Soul Food, named after the four-way traffic intersection. The church bus was still unloading, and these three guys decided to eat elsewhere, but Stein’s didn’t look as good. Now, I’m wondering as I eat soul fast food if I made the right decision.

The green beans were fine, the cabbage and black-eyed peas delicious, but the okra wasn’t cooked right, and the cornbread came from the cheapest box. Oh well, that’s Memphis, and after my zig-zag route through the city, it’s time to refuel. The first station I stopped at wouldn’t let me pump with a card or cash, so I went across the street. I turned onto the 70 and stopped at a gas station for caffeine and childhood treats – Star Crunch and Nutty Buddy. There is a lady selling watermelon from her car. I told her I don’t have a way to open it, and she said I could drop it on the ground like her sample.

Cypress Grove Nature Park, outside Jackson, TN, is popular with the locals, each bringing their four kids, but it’s too close to the highway for maximum peacefulness. The boardwalk is nice, but part of it is closed off. I take in the calm that standing among trees brings and head off to Montgomery Bell State Park. Here, the local cross-country team, along with some parents, is taking advantage of the weather to get in a workout as one couple does some speed walking checking for stragglers. The shade and the breeze under the trees, the kind of beauty that makes you fall to your knees in love.

I step over roots and pass by their trees, remnants of giants standing taller than me. My skin so sweet and that warm blood inside attracts all the bugs to bite at my feet. Swollen they may get, I’m stubborn to put on shoes so I can feel the grass on my toes. The bugs may irritate me but that won’t keep me from appreciating the million little things that go right every day so that I may walk and breath, the sun rise and the trees grow. How lucky I am that I may share some joy with others. I feel inspired here amongst the fallen trees and the spiderweb glistening in the evening sun.

I drive to the outskirts of Knoxville with a full moon that would do just as well to light my way as the bright sun seemingly minutes ago, if not for headlights and road reflectors. This would be a good night to ride a bike on an open lane with no traffic. I passed through the time change and didn’t notice until I saw a bank sign while I was getting gas. I will decide in the morning whether I will drive through Kentucky or North Carolina to get to Virginia, or just approach directly.