Mt. Driskill, Louisiana

A voice like Hattie McDaniel's wakens us with "Housekeeping! Are you there?" It is 8 AM and we've overslept. But no big deal. Oversleeping is a serious bonus on vacation. We eat, pack, fill-up, and head out of Minden. The Burger King nightmare is firmly in our rear-view mirror. A short while later we take the Arcadia exit and head south on a state road, apparently headed for our next high point. Apparently. Poor directions take us southwest instead of southeast, and we take the scenic route, passing a happy cowboy statue (in Lousiana?), some beautiful homes, and some homes with broken out windows, looking ready for an apocalyptic movie set. Under gray skies with chilly temperatures, the piney woods seem gloomy. We came to the parking lot of the Mt. Zion Presbyterian church near 10 AM. The 15 year old trail directions are still pretty good, though the radio tower, a significant landmark, is gone. The trail is marked with arrows, rendering the book irrelevant. Dogwoods and other spring blossoms dot the forest, and since it was less than a mile, we made the top in about 20 minutes. The place lacked the views of Texas, but had its own charm. Upon returning to the church parking lot, Alex and I decided to check out the cemetery in the churchyard, which was 130 years old. Some of the stones were old, while others were very recent. The Driskill family figured prominently, along with a couple of other family names. It was notable that almost all Driskill men served in the wars of their generations. Good. We made the obligatory stop for gas and goodies, and noted these signs on the door: "No Sagging," and "Hoods Must Be Down." Good also.