Cheer & Exploration

MGCCC vs. CCC

Kicking off the night, I watched Emma and her team cheer on the MGCCC Bulldogs as they took on the Coahoma Community College Tigers in an electrifying football showdown. The game unfolded just north of Clarksdale, Mississippi, near the legendary Crossroads of Highways 49 and 61, a spot steeped in blues lore. Emma and the cheer squad brought their A-game, firing up the crowd with high-energy routines, daring stunts, and infectious enthusiasm. The Bulldogs dominated the field, crushing the Tigers 56-3 in a victory that had the stands roaring.As the game wrapped, I said my goodbyes to Emma, who braced for a five-hour bus ride back to the Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College campus. Meanwhile, I counted my blessings for my short 15-minute drive to the Shack Up Inn, a quirky gem nestled on the historic Hopson Plantation. The Shack Up Inn, born in 1998, transforms rustic sharecropper shacks into unique lodgings, offering a raw, soulful taste of the Delta’s history. Located on the Hopson Plantation, established in 1852, the site is a living testament to the region’s agricultural and musical heritage. In the 1940s, Hopson became one of the first fully mechanized cotton plantations, revolutionizing farming practices. Today, it’s a haven for blues enthusiasts, with the nearby Ground Zero Blues Club and the annual Juke Joint Festival drawing visitors from across the globe. My stay at the Inn promised a cozy, nostalgic escape, surrounded by cotton fields and the echoes of the Delta’s storied past.

The Shack Up Inn

I settled into Grain Bin A at the Shack Up Inn, a charmingly unconventional stay that felt far roomier—and more affordable—than any standard hotel room. Stepping inside, I was greeted by a cozy living room and kitchen combo, adorned with weathered, antique furniture that oozed character. I couldn’t help but smile at the eclectic vibe, like stepping into a living piece of Delta history. Through a doorway, I found the bedroom, where a plush queen-size bed sat beside a simple night table on gleaming wooden floors. Another door led to a spacious bathroom with a sleek, tiled walk-in shower, blending rustic charm with modern comfort.Sinking into the well-worn sofa, I popped open my laptop for some YouTube TV, as the Inn skips traditional televisions in favor of its authentic, no-frills aesthetic. With a drink in hand, I unwound, savoring the quiet of the Hopson Plantation night. Exhausted but content, I hit the hay early, knowing I had to rise before dawn to catch the Delta sunrise—a moment I wasn’t about to miss.

Sunrise on the Delta

I woke just in time, the pre-dawn hush urging me to hustle. With barely a moment to spare, I threw on my clothes, grabbed my camera, and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Positioning myself at the edge of a cotton field on the Hopson Plantation, I stood ready, the chill already creeping into my hands, stiffening my joints. I flexed my fingers to keep them nimble, determined not to miss the shot. Then, it happened—a brilliant burst of light pierced the horizon, igniting the day. The sunrise glowed just beyond a distant church, its silhouette framed perfectly across another field. The warmth seemed to flood the landscape instantly, spilling golden light over the ground, the Shack Up Inn, and me.I snapped photo after photo, shifting angles to capture the perfect interplay of light and shadow. Each click felt like preserving a fleeting piece of Delta magic. Satisfied with my shots, I headed back inside, packed my bags, and loaded up the Jeep. With a final glance at Grain Bin A, I made my way to the main building to check out, already nostalgic for the soulful charm of this place.

Saint Pauls Church

Just down the road from the Shack Up Inn was the church I’d noticed the day before on my way in. Pulling up, I could now see it was abandoned, its steeple collapsed inward, a jumbled wreck. I waded through thick kudzu, pushing past the vines that had woven a natural door, and stepped into the sanctuary. There it was: the steeple, upside down, having crushed several pews at the front. One pew jutted into the air at an angle, like a seesaw frozen mid-tilt. I didn’t dare venture closer—this was one of the most unstable, precarious buildings I’d ever set foot in. The pulpit lay on its back, some railing broken, and a piano sat against the wall by a window, untouched by time. I didn’t go near the front, wary of the structure’s fragility. Instead, I backed out the way I came, praying no snakes were hiding under the kudzu blanket. Thankfully, none were, and I made it to the Jeep, pointing it south and heading home. More 👉 https://www.lykinsfilms.com/st-pauls

Tutwiler Cypress

As I cruised down the road, a striking lake lined with cypress trees caught my eye. I pulled onto a narrow path, barely wide enough for my Jeep, expecting it to open into a wider area. It didn’t. Undeterred, I pressed on until I reached a tight spot just big enough for a three-point turnaround. Before maneuvering back, I spotted a perfect vantage point for some photos. Camera in hand, I stepped out, cautious not to get too close to the water’s edge—unsure if alligators lurked this far north, though I knew for certain they’d be in the waters back home. I snapped my shots, capturing the serene beauty of the cypress-draped lake, then lingered a few extra minutes, soaking in the tranquil scene. The quiet, the towering trees, the still water—it was a moment worth savoring.