Lake Chicot, Mississippi River

Having left Memphis, I leaned back into my motorboat and took a moment to reflect on the journey so far. I’m two-thirds of the way through now, and what a ride it has been, all my senses alive, my heart brimming with joy. 

As I continued floating downriver, slipping from one bend to the next, I passed Helena–West Helena and thought about its Delta blues heritage. Back in the steamboat days, workers poured into cafés and juke joints looking for a good time, places where legends like Robert Johnson played. His Sweet Home Chicago would later be covered by the Blues Brothers and Eric Clapton, and though his life was cut short at 27, he became known as the King of Delta Blues. 

Then there’s Sonny Boy Williamson II, star of the original King Biscuit Time radio show that launched in 1941. With his harmonica, he helped define the sound of the Delta blues, and the show itself went on to become the longest-running daily American radio broadcast in history. “Sunshine” Sonny Payne was its longest-serving host, holding the microphone from 1951 to 2018, a staggering 67 years, starting at just 25. Blues giants like B.B. King and Ike Turner tuned in regularly, no doubt letting it shape their own music.

With blues looping in my head like a personal soundtrack, I carried on towards Lake Chicot. This enormous, C-shaped stretch of water (20 mi / 32 km) is the largest oxbow lake in North America. It formed from an abandoned Mississippi River channel about 700 years ago. When La Salle came across it in 1686, he named it Isle de Chicot, or “island of stumps”. He thought the cypress knees poking above the water were tree stumps. To be fair, cypress knees do look odd if you’ve never seen them. They’re knobbly little wooden cones jutting from the roots of cypress trees. Scientists are still trying to determine their exact function. 

Local lore adds a cheeky twist to the place. Apparently, the outlaw John Murrell and his gang used to prowl these waters, and rumour has it they had a hand in sinking a steamboat loaded with whisky. According to the story, they didn’t exactly keep a low profile afterwards, celebrating with such enthusiasm that the sheriff had no trouble rounding them up. One of the streams off Lake Chicot is now called “Whiskey Chute”, which feels like the landscape is having a quiet laugh at their expense.

But what makes this area truly spectacular are the sunsets, fiery and unpredictable, shifting from deep purples and soft pinks one evening to a blazing orange the next. This is one place to pause, lean back, and just let the river, the sky, and the fading light do their magic.