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Intersection of Highway 61 and 49
Before we left Clarksdale, we stopped at the crossroads. Okay, there are many, and Robert Johnson probably made his deal with the devil at a lonelier, more remote set of roads, but this is the famous intersection of Highways 49 and 61 and that was good enough for us.
Now, Robert Johnson, so the story goes, sold his soul to the devil in exchange for playing the guitar like no one else. What did we do? We donít know if the devil was there or not because we were too busy looking at Delta Donuts across the street and wondering why it wasnít open. A closed donut shop; if thatís not Satanís handiwork, we donít know what is.
Speaking of that, one of Maryís existential questions on the trip has been; why do we only pass frozen custard stands when we canít stop for frozen custard? Just asking.
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