When I left New Orleans, my goal was to make it to the famed crossroads in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Purportedly this was where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil in exchange for otherworldly guitar skills, and is considered to be the birthplace of blues music. While I'm not sure about all that, it was pretty neat to pull into the crossroads on an almost bone-dry tank in the nick of time as the sun went down.
"Standin' at the crossroad, baby, risin' sun goin' down" - Robert Johnson