People in Georgia are just so dang nice… I swear, the moment I crossed the border from Alabama people’s demeanor instantly changed. Drivers were just a bit more courteous. Most vehicles passing in the opposite direction waved. And I met someone new every single time I stopped.
Tuesday night I camped in a little area called “The Pocket”, a primitive campground in the Western Chattahoochee National Forest. When I pulled in, there was one other campsite already occupied by tent campers. Having
enjoyed such wonderful solitude the last several nights, I couldn’t help but feel just a hint of disappointment. That didn’t last long though. Before I even leveled out the trailer, Spencer Nix had come over to introduce himself and his wife Renee. He let me know that they were going to make a run to the nearest store and offered to pick up anything I might need. I was pretty well stocked, but thanked
him for the offer. When they finally got back, he came walking over again, this time bearing a huge sack of strawberries they had picked on the way. They had picked “too many” and were offering me what they didn’t think they’d eat. Best strawberries ever! Spencer’s a guitar player too. As you might expect, we picked and sang around the campfire until the wee hours. It sure is good to run into good folks.
Yesterday, I meandered for 150 miles or so along the northern Georgia border, finally crossing just south of Highlands, North Carolina. I had read about an
extremely secluded and underused camping area in the Nantahala National Forest that was worth the drive. The rumors were right on the money. Traveling for miles and miles on dirt single track, I finally reached Blue Valley Campground. Nestled deep in a stand of Oak and Hickory, it was a striking contrast to the otherwise abundant Eastern White Pine that dominates Talladega in Alabama. And it was indeed desolate. Boots and I got to enjoy yet
another night of glorious peace and quiet, albeit with no chance of an internet connection.
Today I’m back on the road, hoping to get close to Asheville, NC. It’s only 75 miles away, but those are some winding, treacherous mountain miles. I’ll be taking it slow.