Reunion!

Yes, naturally I have to begin with the end, because there is food involved.  This may not look like much, my friends, but this is the holy grail of barbecue as far as I am concerned.  My mouth has watered for this since the last time I bit into one, which has to be over 15 years ago.  Poole's Barbecue lies in the small city of Ellijay, on the western edge of the Chattahoochee National Forest.  I was in the area a month or so ago when I found my way back to Three Forks, but I was already on a diet by then so forced myself to drive on past.  Not so today!  Luck (and a little judicious planning) had me reach here right about 11:30 this morning and while I'd had a great breakfast and wasn't exactly starving, I had to sink my teeth into this and yes, it was absolutely as wonderful as I remember it to be.

This be the place.  Not too many folks here this early, but that parking lot will fill up quickly enough.  I thought the place had been around since time immemorial, but in reading old newspaper clippings on the table I learned that it only opened around 1989.  It couldn't have been too much later than that when I first discovered it on one of my frequent trips north, probably headed to North Carolina for one backpacking trip or another.  I'm simply unable to pass without stopping, for the most part.  Presidential candidates from both parties have been known to stop here, the Today Show did a live broadcast from here one day, and they've been written up quite widely.  It won't be long before I'll be headed this way once more and yes I will indulge again.

Back to the beginning.  Friday I left home just before noon and drove northeast on the usual convoluted series of roads.  Once I reached the general area of destination I managed to take three wrong turns, mostly from poor signage and at least once because I read the sign wrong.  Once again I was astonished (and not in a pleasant way) at the growth, traffic and congestion that has traveled right up Georgia 400 to this once pristine country world.  We traveled this road weekly, often, and there was next to nothing but trees once you left the outskirts of Atlanta.  I remember when the first McDonalds and a service station opened near Dawsonville and we were all so grateful, since it was located at the perfect place to stop for a potty break each way, if nothing else.  Now, all four corners are filled with shopping centers and so horribly congested I wouldn't stop.  Sad.

Eventually, I found my friends' home and felt as if I'd gone right back into the world I remembered. Their home is on about 5 acres outside Clarkesville on a dead-end gravel road.  It's nicely wooded and not a house can be seen from anywhere on the property.  We spent most of our time on a screened porch near a fishpond with a little waterfall -- tranquil doesn't begin to describe!  Most importantly, of course, was reconnecting with the people inside the home.  I knew Linda well -- hiked with her a lot in the old days, but I didn't know Jimmy at all until the two of them hooked up.  He was in the rock climbing crowd and I didn't go there.  None of us could remember whether or not we'd seen each other since their wedding, which is edging up on 19 years ago.  I went off into whitewater, then bought a house and spent most of my weekends there; they were both into rock climbing and our paths simply didn't cross.  Beautiful people!

Saturday morning we picked up one of the 40 elders who were being honored (Elmer Butler, who is in his 90's, and his wife).  I'd never met them, but got to know his wife really well on the trip to and from Highlands, and they, too, are really interesting people.  

In Highlands we parked in a neighbor's grassy field and were shuttled up a long dirt road to the farm in either a car or, in our case, a wagon pulled by a tractor! Driving the tractor is our genial host, Hillrie.  Quite an experience, both ways, but loads of fun.

It was tough to get a photo of the entire crowd, but I got a few.  The barn in the rear housed a short film about the honorees plus some marvelous photo scrapbooks.  More about those later.  Food was eventually set up under the green tent.

Jud, one of the honorees, entertained us for much of the day, sitting on the rise strumming and singing.

I'm not sure these folks would appreciate this photo of them eating, so rather than offer names I'll simply say that these are more of the honorees.  Almost all of the 40 were actually in attendance.

Something I learned is that a long-time member of our Club, Bob Almand, is currently President of the entire national Appalachian Trail Conservancy!  I doubt that I have the organization's name exactly right, but you get the gist.  He presented the club with an honor  that was recently conferred by the Conference. Only 5 were given out in total, and ours was the only one given out to one of the member ATC clubs.  Really a huge honor. 

By the time I had a chance to take a photo of the award, it had already been hung on a high spot in the barn and I couldn't get a good angle or avoid the light reflections.  This is what it reads:  In recognition of excellence service to engage youth in recreational and service activities on the Appalachian National Scenic Trail."

Yep, food again, and yep, barbecue again.  Ain't no such thing as too much of a good thing when that good thing is barbecue! Didn't hold a candle to Poole's, but then, nothing does.

After lunch Hillrie led us on a tour of his garden and a short hike through the woods.  He said the idea for this kind of planting came from the Mother Earth News, and it's pretty simple.  Open the package of topsoil or whatever you want to use, poke holes in the bottom for drainage and to let the roots through, and plant.  No weeds, no muss, no fuss.  Clever.

Not a lot of wildflowers blooming yet (Highlands is much further north and at a much higher elevation, so spring is just now arriving).  I don't know the name of this flowering tree but it was lovely.

I don't remember the name of this, either, but it's some kind of wild orchid.

The woods were just beautiful -- all spring-green and sun-dappled.

I think in all about 80 people were due to attend, and it turned out that they were mostly old-timers and I knew almost all of them to one degree or another.  That was way cool.  A few I'd like to have seen didn't attend, but most of those were off on a hiking trip to Nepal or some such place, so I guess they have a good excuse.  And, I needn't have worried about these extra pounds I'm carrying, because with only one or two exceptions, everyone else had also put on a few extra pounds and yes, all of us have aged 15 or so years. 

Remember the photo scrapbooks I mentioned?  I found a few photos of Kitty in there and copied them with my camera.  Now we can all see how thin I was back then and understand how many extra pounds I've put on!

I have absolutely no idea when or where this photo was taken, but I love it!  I'm hugging up on Duff Sutton, who joined the club the same time I did and who was one of the honored elders who didn't attend.  Sure would like to see him again. Despite the photo, we were never an 'item', but we did hike together many times.

I don't know what year this was, but that was the Honda I drove from California and the bike I rode all over Colorado, so it was in the early years.  The gentleman helping is Fritz, with whom I led an overnight 80-mile bike trip several years on down the road.  He was also one of the honored elders, and didn't have the first memory of ever riding bikes with me!  Someone overheard that conversation and told us she had photos in the album to prove it, and here it is.

Same event (an annual club picnic at Stone Mountain called a Bike & Barbecue), different year.  I don't recognize the woman in the center, but the man is Michael, who I hiked with a few times and who went on the overnight trip with us.

One of the same B&B parties -- a three-legged race with me and George in the middle.

This was taken at a GATC board retreat up in the mountains someplace.  I was never an elected member of the board (didn't want to be) but I was photo chair for many years and thus attended all the board meetings and events in a non-voting capacity.  Whit, Roz and Darrell.  How we have all changed!

No clue where this was taken -- looks like a lunch break on a hike or a work trip.

So that was the great reunion. I am overjoyed that I went, and equally overjoyed at the opportunity to spend a couple of days with Linda and Jimmy catching up on their lives and getting updates on others that we knew.  Naturally, several of the people I knew and loved have died, and a surprising number have had cancer of one kind or another -- some surviving it and others not.  I'm oh, so grateful for all that are still among us and that I had the chance to see again. 

Today, I opted to drive home on a circuitous route along the northern edges of Georgia, mostly to pick up better highways and always, of course, aiming for the road through Ellijay. This was all familiar country over roads I've traveled countless times. A few highlights:

This is the Nacoochee Indian mound that was once in the center of the Cherokee Nation.  Read the plaque for details (click to enlarge if necessary).

The 'alpine' village of Helen, known for it's old-world Germanic architecture and themes.  Really quite charming and I'd have taken a photo of the downtown area if I could have found a place to park.  Once upon a time there were parking spaces along the main drag, but no more.  Too much congestion, I suppose.

The upper Chattahoochee River.  Yes, the same huge river that feeds Lake Lanier then travels through Atlanta, down the western state line and into the Gulf of Mexico. The Hooch has its beginnings not far from this spot, right on a section of the AT.  I've often walked the short distance down the hill from the Trail to fill my water bottle from the spring that tumbles quite modestly out of the hillside and is the official headwaters of this mighty river.  One of the best whitewater experiences of my life was a day spent with a few other folks on a lower section of this river with some righteous rapids.

I'm home and I'm tired but what a wonderful way to be tired.  I slept like a baby both nights and didn't do much in the way of physical activity, but like Linda and Jimmy, I'm just not used to doing that much talking.  We wore all of us out!  I am grateful -- so grateful -- for all of it.

Progress

My focus these past few days has been to remove all the pine straw to the right of the raised bed, remove the cardboard underneath, dig out all the weed/grass roots and sod, then replace the cardboard and top it all off with a thick layer of pine bark mulch.

Here's what it looks like right now, after an hour or so on Sunday and about three hours today.  Only half done! By the way, my cardboard experiment was definitely not a total flop.  The only thing living under the cardboard is the Bermuda or crab grass, whichever it is. All the other stuff, including clover, is long gone and rotted away.  And, the roots of the grass seem weaker .  These areas are much easier to clean out than the areas that have had no cardboard.  Hindsight tells me that I should have put the pine bark down in the first place, instead of the pine straw, but I thought it would be too expensive and I'd need to buy in bulk and have it delivered.  Wrong on both counts.  I doubt that it would have cost much more than the pine straw, and since I can buy it in bags at HD, it comes home in the car.  Not all at once, but that's OK.

I've done my bit for today and am now crunching on some freshly-roasted peanuts (from my own oven).  Then, it's time to chill, rest the old body.

Exploring the North Georgia Mountains

The Appalachian Trail headed north from Three Forks.  These two are probably thru-hikers, headed to Mt. Katahdin, Maine.  It's the time of year when hundreds of good souls begin the 2000+ mile trek, and only a fraction actually make it all the way.  I didn't catch up with them to ask, but it's a lot of gear for an overnight hike. They have the look of thru-hikers, and I saw and spoke with many of them back when.  I used to make a point of working on my trail section in April, just to meet and talk to them.  At this point, all of four miles, they are all still gung-ho and excited, haven't had a chance to burn out or give up.

As  you can see, I opted to drive up to the mountains today, instead of tomorrow.  In fact, I drove for a total of about 7 hours, with only two stops -- one for gas and a bathroom, the other here at Three Forks for a few minutes.  I started out walking on the Trail headed for Longs Creek Falls, about a mile in, then I realized what time it was (3pm) and knew I didn't have time.  Aside from that, the place was like a parking lot/playground!  I've never seen so many cars parked at that place, or so many people just walking to or from that direction.  I had a sad sense that I'd find a crowd splashing at the Falls, and I just couldn't face that.  It's a lovely spot, a highlight of this section, but doesn't deserve to be a tourist hangout.

First of all, I couldn't believe people would drive into the wilderness just to reach this spot.  It's not exactly on the beaten path.  It's 20 miles from the nearest highway, and 5 of those miles are over FS Road 58, which is mostly good, but has a lot of potholes and numerous rough spots.  Lots of people in Lexus SUVs and the like, and even a Hummer.  Horrible!  When I was driving out, two very chi-chi women with a couple of kids strapped into the back seat of their Lexus SUV stopped me and asked if I knew where Longs Creek Falls was.  Good grief.  I told her, including the fact that they'd have to walk a mile on the trail to reach it, but that didn't seem to daunt them.  Where do these people come from, and what has happened here in the last 14  years?  If I sound upset, it's because I am.  Not seriously so, but very disappointed.

Still, it was a lovely trip and I was surprised how it all came back to me, how familiar so many of the roads and towns I passed through were.  I timed the trip at various points, to help me gauge driving up to meet people for a hike.  The trip home from Three Forks took almost exactly 3 hours, which isn't bad when you consider the first 45 minutes is on a dirt road moving slowly.  I started way too late in the morning, after I'd walked to the hardware store then walked to the library.  I know better, but it was rather impulsive and I didn't want to wait until tomorrow.

OK. Enough editorializing.  Bring on the photos.

This is Noontootla Creek, which parallels FS Road 58 for its entire length through here.  It has always been one of my favorite places, and it's not hard to see why.  It's a beautiful little creek that tumbles over rocks and cascades as it winds its way through the forest.  For you people in Oregon, we have Rhodies here, too -- the mountains are thick with them.

This is the Three Forks AT crossing, looking towards Springer Mountain (the starting point of the AT).  

Noontootla Creek from the footbridge.

And, from the other side of the bridge.

That's all the AT photos for the day -- I wasn't here very long, but I'm really glad I went.  Great to see it again, although the crowds still rankle.

A sign off Roy Road/Doublehead Gap Road that takes me to the FS road.  This is FS Road 42, which doesn't really go to Springer Mountain, but goes to the first AT road crossing where one can hike up the trail for about a mile and reach Springer.

The scenery along this access road was spectacular.  Spring has not sprung so much up here yet -- further north, higher elevations.  But the sun was glinting off everything and there were many pastoral scenes such as this, and even better, as I drove.

As I neared the main highway that cuts across the bottom of the Chattahoochee National Forest, I decided to go in search of this church, Wesley Chapel United Methodist Church.  I've driven past Wesley Chapel Road countless times in years past without ever driving up here or ever having any sense that any of my personal history would reside here.  I learned several years ago in Oregon, during my genealogy research, that some of my ancestors founded this church.  I cruised the small cemetery, found lots of Waters but none that I could identify.  My second great-grandmother, Sarah Waters, was born in this area in 1831 but moved away after she was married.  

Her father's name was Moses, but he was born in the 1700's.  This isn't one of his sons, but probably a nephew, and thus Sarah's cousin.  I was surprised that most of the gravestones had death dates in the early 1900s, because the church was there long before then and surely some of the elders died and were buried here, as well as the 'younger' generation.  Anyway, it was good to find it.  Going strictly on memory, which is always dangerous, I believe this particular Moses was one of the founders of the church.

Now, I'm pooped -- a lot of driving for one day, even though the mileage wasn't nearly as much as the days I spent driving across the country.  I've had some dinner and am now ready to hit the comfy chair and watch some movie.

Biking and Gardening

This morning I thought I'd explore the Silver Comet Trail to the east, but it was a short-lived effort!  The trail map I have states clearly that this direction is hilly, but I wasn't sure just how quickly I'd find hills or how steep they'd be.  The answer to those questions is:  soon, and steep.

This is as far as I got -- about 2 miles from the depot.  I didn't even bother to continue to the top of this hill -- wanted a photo of the sign and saw no point in struggling up a few feet more.

This is from the same spot, headed back to town.  Now, this hill wouldn't have bothered me at all in past years, when I was more in condition for hills, but it was a struggle today.  It also wasn't the first hill I'd encountered, just the steepest.  I also wasn't interested in coasting down the other side because -- yep, I'd just have to come back up.  Not today, thanks.  I'm thinking I may confine my cycling to the westerly section of the trail.

After I got back into town and up another hill, I was struggling again and downshifted -- only to have my bike pull its famous trick of losing the chain when I try to make that particular shift when there's pressure on it.  Hasn't happened for awhile, so I'd forgotten about that habit.  I barely saved myself from a fall onto the concrete, since both feet were in the toe clips and all forward motion stopped.  Having fallen more than once because of toe clips (when I first started using them I'd forget about them, and try to put my foot down to catch the bike when I'd stop) my body has developed rather a reflex action that remembers before my brain thinks about it.

So, it was a short-lived ride of about 40 minutes, but that was enough for today.  It's been a tough week and my energy is still low -- I just needed to get out on the bike because not much else cheers me up quite so well.  We have rain coming in soon anyway, so I hadn't planned a lengthy ride.

Early this morning I went outside and moved the herb garden.  I've been thinking about it for a couple of days, did a little research, and realized that it was just too close to the nearest blueberry bush.  It needs to be about four feet away, and it was barely more than two.  That would be fine for right now, but in a year or two when the rosemary and blueberries get bigger, it just wouldn't work.  I put the glass dish out a couple of days ago but haven't seen a bird in it yet!

Previously, this little grouping occupied the upper right corner of this plot.  I'm not in love with the new location, but hey, they're perennials and can be moved again at a later date if I find something I like better.  I sowed chamomile seeds in all the bare spots here, while I was at it.  May be a tad too early, but I'll take my chances.  It's only seed, after all.

After I finished the move, of course, I thought that the previously dug circle in the upper left corner above would be the perfect place -- just the right size and shape plus the birds would probably be happier further from the house.  But then, I'd have to rethink the entire herb garden and I don't want to do that right now.  It needs to be close to the back door, anyway, so I can go out and snip what I want easily.  There will be lots more here, eventually.

As an afterthought, something really interesting is going on in that I'm getting visitors from all over the world to this page of this blog.  They are mostly coming from Google Photos, but I don't know which of the three photos is catching their attention.  I get two or three per day looking at this page.  Tis a curiosity!

So for the rest of the day?  No plans -- I expect some reading is in order.

A Better Day

When you look at this it's easy to believe spring really has sprung.  And with the sun shining most of the time today and the air warming up, life is good.  This is one of my blueberry plants -- the largest and seemingly earliest one.  All three are budding, the others show some leafing out, but this one seems more ready to burst.

The spinach has perked up, too.  Survived the cold and rain quite nicely, probably even enjoyed both.  No large harvest in the offing here,  but there should at least be some satisfaction involved.

See how stunted the seedlings are?  Basil in the foreground, peppers and parsley towards the rear.

Lavender, sitting on the front porch awaiting planting outside. Not sure where this one's going, yet.

The eggplant and peppers recovered nicely from their fainting spells yesterday.

Remember this guy?  The little redwood I harvested in California that traveled across country with me? When I left Brookings he was sporting a couple of tiny roots, in his water habitat.  For the journey I put him back in the bag of forest humus, as above, and I think that set him back a bit, but never fear.

Having been back in water since I've been here, he's now sporting several (at least 3) tiny roots about 1/2 inch long, so I thought it was time he went outside where the cool, moist air is probably much more to his liking, and back into his native forest humus.

I guess what brought this decision was partly the roots,  but equally the two tiny green buds that are sprouting along it's stalk (trunk?).  I take that to mean that he's happy, despite having lost a couple of lower branches.  Perhaps I should have left well enough alone, but redwoods prefer cool, fresh, moist air and while the summer won't be cool, the pantry isn't going to be cool for much longer and it's anything but moist.  He's on my back porch where he'll get a bit of morning light, then have shade the rest of the day. Sufficient humidity won't  be a problem here!

I have a small case of 'the shoulds'.  I 'should' go out this afternoon and do something -- some digging, perhaps finish up the work I began on Saturday, or start laying out the herb garden or the monarch garden, but I'm feeling pretty darned lazy, not all that sure I want to do any of it.  We shall see.

The Silver Comet Trail -- Part Deux

I knew there was a training camp here for wheelchair athletes, because there are signs at the city limits, but that's all I know about it.  No clue where it is.  Today out riding on the Silver Comet Trail, these guys passed me in a flash.  I'm amazed that this photo worked -- I had to stop and use the zoom and they were moving fast. Sometimes, I actually like this camera.

I was stopped to take a photo when I first heard them behind me and looked around. All I saw was one bike that looked like it was towing a bike trailer, but I definitely heard a human voice.  Great, I thought.  Here I am out in the boonies and some local looney carrying all his possessions in a trailer, talking to himself and probably high on something, comes along.  I guess I spent too much time in Eugene, because that situation is far less likely here. At any rate, I started pedaling not sure what was coming behind me but aware that it was making a strange noise, then these two friendly fellows flew past, said 'good morning' and clattered away.  The noise came from the wheelchair.  I admit to being rather stunned and surprised and awestruck.  The two were so close together and so perfectly aligned I thought at first that the bike was towing the wheelchair, but later I saw that wasn't the case -- merely setting the pace.  They turned off on a county road just past here and I continued on the trail and wouldn't you know, we met up at the same intersection on our return trips?  Once more, they pulled away from me quickly enough and disappeared.  Really cool!

As you can see, it's an extremely beautiful day here, finally.  Things are greening up a bit, but barely.  I think a few warm, sunny days will take care of that, however, as the trees are bursting with buds.  I had thoughts of going east on the Trail, to see what that was like, but in the end I just wanted to ride as hard as I could for as long as I could, so I opted to go west once again, but further.

This is where I turned around today -- Milepost 58.73, just a couple of miles from the Alabama state line and the Chief Ladiga Trail.  That's 6.91 miles from the Cedartown RR station, where I began, giving me a total of 13.82 trail miles for the day plus another mile or so to/from home.  Not bad for an old lady who hasn't ridden for a year or more.  Took me exactly two hours, which is on the slow side even for me, but hey, refer to the previous sentence!  I'll get there. Anyway, I do tend to stop often to take photos, if briefly.

This is what most of the trail is like -- quiet and peaceful, traversing a variety of woods and wetlands and rural homes and farms.  I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am for having this trail in my backyard (literally -- it's right across the RR tracks, although there's no access that way).  It's a gift.  Granted, in Eugene I had lots of good bike trails, too, and for a year I lived right on the river bike trail that offered an 18-mile loop plus access to other places, but that trail tends to be really crowded and far from a place for serious cycling.  Too many dogs and kids and strollers and pedestrians, unless you are out in the early morning or in cold weather.  I was grateful to have it -- but this one is SO much more!  And it's less than 5 minutes from home.  How wonderful is that!

Lovely day, lovely countryside.

Is it a turtle or a terrapin?  His buddy was less amused at being disturbed and plopped into the water.

Same wetlands, more turtles.  I was trying for some birds I saw, but they were far too shy.  This is full zoom.  I would call them wood ducks, but I'm no expert.  Lovely, graceful swimmers with beautiful tufted black and white heads.

These little blue flowers are everywhere right now -- thick carpets of them alongside the highways between here and Rome, and even out in my neighbor's back yard.  I'm not sure what they are.  Bluets?  Lovely, whatever they are.

I hatched a plan while I was out.  I know now that I can easily make the Alabama state line and the end of the Silver Comet.  One day this summer I'm going to plan an overnight trip to Jacksonville, Alabama, which lies at mile 26.8 on the Chief Ladiga Trail.   That's a total of almost 35 miles one way, which is granted a bit on the long side, but I've done longer days in recent years and I can do it again.  Jacksonville is the home of one of my writing idols, Rick Bragg, and while I don't expect to encounter him I'd like to see the town and area.  I'm sure there are motels and restaurants and it would be a fun overnight excursion.  It'll  be a great incentive to get out there and ride, as if I needed any!

Ahhhhhhhh... Bliss!!

When you come right down to it, this is a large part of what this move was all about, and yes, as of this moment it's worth every minute and every mile and every dollar.  Once the frost cleared this morning I headed out on the Silver Comet Trail, westbound.  A bit nippy at first, but of course that didn't last plus I had on good thermal clothes and a windbreaker.  The sun, as you can see, was shining brightly and not a cloud spoiled the blue sky.  From here, the trail crossed under the bridge then ramped around in a circle upwards to the left and crossed over it.

 

Not far from where the trail leaves Main Street, it leaves the designated path and follows city streets for a short distance.  The route is well-marked, but I missed a turn that would have taken me to this and eventually backtracked to find it.  This bridge crosses a canal of some kind that goes through some really pretty park area.

Just past the bridge the trail curves and goes through the outskirts of an industrial area for a bit before reaching the big bridge in the first photo.  I'm really looking forward to seeing all this once spring takes hold and all is green.

I wish you could have heard the noise here -- it was a large wetland on both sides of the trail and the frogs were having a croaking field day.  Unbelievably loud.  Other than frogs, most of the sound I heard on the trip was birdsong, and birds were everywhere. 

The trail as it travels beyond the wetland and frogs, through farmlands and rural residential areas.  I think this is about where I turned around, my exploration finished for the day, about 3.1 miles from town.  That gives me a total of 6.2 trail miles for the day, plus getting to/from the trail and some extra while I was lost.  It wasn't a long ride, but it was enough for today.

I haven't ridden my bike for about a year now, and that's way too long.  My cycling muscles were rusty, particularly when I needed to go up a hill or over an overpass.  I thought it best to not push too far this first time.  All in all, I was out for about a hour, which included stopping at the railroad station (which is now a visitor center for the Trail) and getting a couple of trail maps.

Wonderful way to start the day.  I'm a happy camper right now!