Funny Story Page
So
we were the last to leave a Shire party, stopped for a moment to
get the computer settled and then we drove down off the mountain
and wound our way across the darkened countryside. Did see one
deer who was smart enough to stay clear of the large green box
that went whizzing past. Worked our way back to I985 and started
south and picked up the pace a .. uhh.. touch. We thought about
stopping in Suwanee for a Wal*Mart break before the last thirty
minutes home, decided to just cross legs and fingers and hurry on
to the homestead. Thirty-four minutes later we pull into the
driveway, finish out singing the silly song on the MP3 player and
then fall out of the truck giddy and exhausted. Plan A is to walk
the pups around the house, feed them then everyone heads to
sleepy-bye-night-night-land.
Barbara heads into the doggy room as I start
pulling the "gotta-have" stuff out of the truck. I hear the
"I-am-really-stressed-out-get-over-here-right-now" voice of
Barbara say "Geof. I need you, now." -oh crap-, I say to myself
and burst through the door into the doggy room where I find blood
everywhere and Barbara in tears checking the front paw of
Teddy-bear (the fawn coloured and oldest dog.) and I utter my now
trademark phrase of dumbfoundment, "oh my holy h*ll."
[sidenote- Teddy is the one who figured out he
could push /really/ hard on the window-screen and tore a hole in
it and escaped on Thursday.. No harm, no foul.. tell him he's a
bad dog while tapping his nose to the screen.. keep window
closed.. all's better]
I do a scene scan.. look right to left, count
potential victims and figure out why there is blood all over my
basement. My sleepy brain deduced that Teddy had to be the
victim.. (seeing as he was the one getting the mommy treatment) I
then start counting felines.. yup five.. then check the other
pup.. Duke is upset but not harmed. I make a few snap judgements
here.. okay, Teddy is walking but with a limp, blood on face and
front-right paw.. obvious, we got boo-boo- but how? I ask, and
Barbara just points to the now absent window. well I say absent..
it was more of an AWOL.. see the window was there, but the glass
was shattered all over the floor. ahhhh.. brain understand. Now,
take stock of the situation. Barbara, useless and stressed beyond
sane thought. Teddy, still bleeding, still conscious, not
shocky.. Blood, dried.. So, this is not a new wound, we did this
earlier in the day.
Sooooo.. Plan B.. Hand Barbara leather gloves she
picks up glass. I'll dump all the stuff out of the truck and then
Teddy goes to the 24 hour vet..
Five, maybe eight minutes later we're on the
road... again. Vet tech doesn't know what to make of us when we
ring the doorbell to enter.. Thinks we are middle eastern (we're
still in garb), considers that we have a dog and he looks hurt,
so takes a risk and lets us in. So now we form Plan C while Teddy
is getting drugged and stapled up.. Barbara will sleep with Teddy
in the bedroom and I'll take my dog hair allergy and sleep in the
living room.. Barbara will settle down with the teddy and I'll
take care of the other animals and then retire to the bed roll..
cool.. so just before five o'clock we leave the clinic with
pills, staples, a three hundred dollar bill and a cool funnel
over our heads (yes, teddy got one too..) and head towards the
homestead.. again. (also known as.. "on the road again,
again"...)
We got no further than a mile from the clinic and I
see two red lights on the far side of the road... Spaced just
right,.. crap.. truck in a telephone pole. Plan D.. I turn around
and throw the switch on the flashing lights and resign myself to
this next adventure while repeating my now notorious mantra
"OMHH"...and get to stand in the road with two drunks from Mexico
(even their vehicle tag was from Mexico), who don't quite have a
grasp of the English language.
I got that they were brothers.. I got that they had
no clue as to where they were.. ("My friend.. weehhhere is here?"
"Gwinnett County" "Gwinnn-net?" "Yes, North of Atlanta" "/insert
spanish mumble here/ ...Clayton County") so I figure they were a
little lost and thought they would ask the lightpole for
directions.
A witness came up, sober (but wearing an arm band
from a nightclub) and told me he had to tackle the driver when
nimrod decided the lightpole was not a good friend and ran away
down the street. I checked everyone for injuries.. only thing I
noticed was a lot of dampness on the driver's pants..(that's not
uncommon with drunks)..After a few minutes the driver announced
something, hopped to his feet and relieved himself on the side of
his truck. (again.. not uncommon with drunks)..then the driver
scurried around to the other side of the truck..
And now my hinky alert goes off.. flashlight up,
spot the brother (state:drunk-dazed-unconcerned-no threat), spot
the witness(state:tired-freezing-no threat), weapons check (left
hand back, clear velcro safety tab on mace for quick draw), check
location of perp-still working quickly around the front of the
truck towards the drivers side door.. I move behind truck-
(training takeover: "think cover, use concealment") -a quick
sideways hop and I have relative safety from close range rounds..
I keep moving and clear the edge of the truck and spotlight the
perp in the eyes with the flashlight.. He's looking down... then
grabs for his ankle ..my brain screams "gungungun!!!".. so I draw
down on him with a tiny little can of mace.
Before I can get the Spanish words for "hands up"
out of my mouth I realize.. he's shaking something out of his
pants.. and it's a beer bottle.. *blink* two bottles..
*blinkblink* three bottles..
So swallowing my heart..and taking a deep breath I
say quite loudly.. "what are you doing?" He grins points to the
bottles and then to the dampness of his clothes. To which I reply
"Trying to hide them?" he nods "Well that didn't work, now you're
cold and wet." and he laughs and says "Si.. Si.. freezing cold" I
encourage him back over to the passenger side of the truck (and
where my high beams are shining) and after a long (COLD)
wait..here comes Gwinnett County PD to take over the scene.
So Barbara and I head for home (aka on the road
again, again, again) and resume Plan C. Two drunks go off to
jail..Teddy has staples in his face, front right paw and back
left paw and he gets to take some little green pills for the next
ten days (but he'll be just fine)... Teddy and Barbara are
sleeping in the bed.. and I'm finally heading off to
sleepy-bye-night-night-land on the couch.
Well pup-ca-traz has
been opened and not a minute too soon.Finally got the window
barriers up. Made it out of Kennel-fence, (so strong steel wire
with only one-and-a-half inch openings) The frame is out of two
by twos with four, four-inch steel L-brackets.. all bolted into
studs with a two-by-four spacer. Then we stuck hinges and a
sliding bolt in place so the window is still a fire exit.
While I was doing this, one of the cats escaped
through the torn screen.. after a brief foot chase I returned
Bo-bo (the big black male) back to the house.
Then teddy got himself hung up on a small tree
(where he never went before and I didn't realize he'd go today!)
and panicked tightening the cable and choking himself with his
harness and the funnel. Duke went ballistic yipping and barking
for help (*barkbark* What is it boy? Did Timmy fall in the well
again? *barkbark* okay I'll get the back-hoe.) Which sent both
Barbara and I bolting from the house to rescue Teddy again. I had
to pull the cable as tight as I could, digging my feet into the
ground and pushing with every ounce of my body (which is a heck
of a lot of ounces!) so the cable would slacken a measly
quarter-inch and the pup could breathe again while Barbara threw
the latch on the other end of the chain. He's okay.. yet
again.
I'm starting to wonder if he doesn't have a death
wish. Got to remind him he's not a cat.. he's only got one
life.
On the good side, Teddy is very alert today and
bouncy. He's sniffing and smiling and wiggling and looks very,
very good. We are very lucky last night. Now we just wait two
weeks and those staples come out and that horrid cone goes
bye-bye.
This morning was like any other. I got the forge helpers,
Duke and Teddy-Bear, their breakfast and went about our normal
start-up routine. Today I was working on some smaller candle
sticks so I cranked up the two burner, propane forge. I'm setting
out stock and clearing workspace when I realized the forge did
not sound right. The blast was giving a higher pitch than normal
and there was a distinct lack of heat radiating from the forge. I
noticed that one of the burners had not caught and was just
streaming small blue gas trails. I quickly grabbed for the kill
value on the propane feed line as I was having visions of flying
through the air via a propane catapult.
After letting the firebox cool, I reached
inside and felt the nozzle of the burner. I found a small leaf
that was stuck inside and cleared that out. Knowing that my
problem was solved and puzzling over how the leaf got in there, I
applied spark to the forge and watched in dismay as the stubborn
burner refused to come to life. Off again, this time we come
armed with a wrench.
I pulled the forge apart, gas line and jets
looked good, but I cleaned them out anyway. The main burner was
working but I double-checked it anyway and cleaned the tube with
a good cloth and water. Now I approached the secondary burner,
the one who was not working. I peered in the business end and
felt inside, all clear. I looked into the mixer end and found a
small white and black, fuzzy caterpillar. [I believe it was a
Laugher (Charadra deridens) caterpillar.]
I can not describe the shock I felt when I
saw this furry little creature not only still pristinely white
but also still alive. I am not sure who was more relieved, he or
I when I managed to rescue him and send him back into the woods
behind the Forge. The rest of the day was spent hammering metal
and laughing about the incident, it had to be quite disturbing
for the bug to be in the burner tube with all that propane
rushing past at 12psi!
This little Hike log was written about our first Hike together.
Heck, we weren't even engaged yet.. but if we can survive this
trip, we can make it anywhere. We had decided to run in to the
woods for a little relaxing and it turned out a little
different than planned. I ended the diary/log early as it was
originally designed for a Trail-log website.. and well we
stopped being on the trail. We were on a section of the
Benton MacKaye
Trail and I can not say how much I love this trail! If you
have ever hiked (or wanted to hike), you've got to try the BMT-
very peaceful.
Hope you enjoy!
I wrote this on a Palm Pilot so it is a touch jerky.. It really
was a running log of our trip.
A few translations:
BRAG is "Bicycle Ride Across Georgia" -
http://www.brag.org/
Bladder is "a plastic bag usually holding
water that is stowed in our backpacks."
BMT is "Benton MacKaye Trail"
BMTA is "Benton MacKaye Trail Association" -
http://www.bmta.org/
FS is "Forest Service"
NOAA is "National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration" - http://www.noaa.gov/ - Think Weather Alert
Radios..
Thursday. (14.Nov.2002)
I'm so ready for this trip I could burst!
Life is great and to hell with work. Tonight we stay at the house
and leave early tomorrow for the hills of North Georgia. First
things first.. need to hit the store for a few last minute items.
Off to Target to get Barbie a bladder and some stuff to make some
killer Gorp. Guess what, Target has discontinued their bladders!
We spend an hour and a half looking for one with two store
workers helping only to find out they no longer carry them.
Here's the kicker. I purchased one on Tuesday. Go figure. No
worries, we plan for a stop at Peddle Power on our way out early
the next morning.
Friday. (15.Nov.2002)
Did I say early? Heck no. We mosey out of
the house around one or two o'clock. Who needs time anyway? Off
to Peddle Power and Kroger, (we forgot the s'mores!). Oh and it's
raining. Peddle Power hasn't got a bladder either. Carl is nice
enough to sell us one out of a HAWG bag at an enormous premium.
Bummer. Yet as we really are hurting for time and I do not want
to head to REI in the middle of the afternoon, we pay enough for
three bladders and leave. Off to Kroger and then the freedom of
the open road. HA! We nail the Friday rush hour. Well ya can't
call it that as you never rush and it really runs from four
o'clock to seven o'clock but it's the common name. We are
following the Topo on the laptop, makes navigation very easy as
long as you are careful to go where the computer tells you. I
really feel like I'm in "2001" with a HAL-9000 on board. Be
careful and don't make the computer angry! 'why didn't you turn
where I told you Geof?' We work our way on and off the highway
and onto a number of back and scenic roads for a journey north.
The drive is nice once we clear the madness of Metro Atlanta.
Lots of picturesque farms with frozen cows standing in the rain.
We stop in Dawsonville for the WC. I always get something when I
use a restroom, after all I freeload their light, HVAC, water,
soap, paper towels, it just seems right to buy something, then
I'm a customer not just a freeloader. I grab a Coke and we head
for the cashier. She seemed to be a nice lady who nearly
collapsed on us when she had a dizzy spell. The barely
sixteen-year-old attendant with her never noticed. We wished her
good health and leapt for the door lest we catch the odd woman's
illness. Next stop Blue Ridge. Not. We missed the turn for US76
and ended up in Ellijay. Not a waste as I showed Barbie the
sights I remembered from BRAG 2002. The lion's club park where we
camped and the quarter-mile, two hundred foot climb to where the
shower truck was parked. They appear to be putting in tennis
courts there now, so next time we come to Ellijay on BRAG we
won't be going back to there. Our luck says we'll have to go
further. Back on US76 and northbound, I am excited out of my mind
and Barbie has no idea what she is about to get into. We pass
part of the trail where it crosses US76, that crossing has to be
scary. Carrying a full pack and traffic rushing past on a four
lane divided highway- give me a starving bear any day. Made it to
downtown Blue Ridge and found the Hotel after a few minutes and a
wrong turn. I still do not understand why they couldn't put their
street address on the website. Crossroads work if you are
actually at the intersection, but the DaysInn is almost a mile
from 5&76 and you can not see the sign. Go figure. We check
in and drop the packs and overnight bag off in the room. It's not
the best hotel I've been in but it will work for one night or two
if we decide to cleanse ourselves of the wilderness on Wednesday.
I realize I've left my watch at the house. No big deal but it
just figures, I am worried about what else might go wrong. We go
out for dinner and plan on hitting a pharmacy or Wally-World or
something. No Wally in Blue Ridge, it's back in Ellijay and
Parris Pharmacy closed at six o'clock, not fifteen minutes ago. I
briefly consider banging on the door to set off the alarm. We aim
for subway but we've got three dollars in cash between us so we
end up at Pizza Hut and stick dinner on a debit card. We wolfed
down all but two slices and will eat those in the morning with
the free 'breakfast' given by the Hotel. An ATM run and then a
quick gear check and it's off to bed.
Saturday. (16.Nov.2002)
Bright and.. well okay just early. We roll
out of bed an hour late. I didn't set the clock right and now
this is becoming a running theme. We pitch the pizza cause it
made us both ill, just have to grab a few extra doughnuts.
Shower, shave and brush, this is the last we'll see of
civilization for five days. Watch the water spin the in toilet
once more and we head for a hardy breakfast of hotel food. Fruit
loops, corn flakes, doughnuts, coffee and Tang- now that's a
heart healthy breakfast. Two ladies join us for chow and look
aghast that we're heading into the hills. A quick wave and we're
off. The drive is easy, just fifteen miles. The road is two lanes
and the views are fantastic. We found a cabin that was for rent,
might look into that for another trip. About nine miles on the
road the pavement just ends. It's gravel from here and Switchback
City. We burst into a widening of the road that is Watson Gap. I
honestly expected a Forest Service self-serve pay for parking
booth, but there was nothing. After a few minutes I tuck the
truck against the embankment and hope she doesn't get towed. We
take two staged photos as are required by law, one with the
couple and their packs smooching and the other the couple smiling
at the camera full of trail elation. I just can not get Barbie's
pack adjusted right. It's like she is too tall for the stays and
I just can't figure it out. We plan to work on it as we hike,
maybe it is just not being used to carrying that much weight. The
hike books are really vague on what direction to go to head south
on the trail. It took me a few minutes to figure it out. I glared
at the Topos and finally realized that I wasn't crazy and we had
to hike north to go south. The trail does a funky wiggle around a
hill before it turns to the south. The weather has not improved
at all. It is chilly and the rain is just drizzle. Well maybe
it'll stop by tonight. That first climb is a killer. We had to
stop several times to rest. Not prepping for the weight of these
packs, my faster pace and the poorly adjusted pack nearly did
Barbie in. I doubt she'll ever come into the woods again. As we
rest on a downed log I realize we don't have our Gorp, no worries
we know it is just in the bear bag and we'll get it at lunch. As
we hike on, the views here are indescribable. The thick fog and
soft drizzle mute the forest into a mystic veil. It is wondrous.
We reach the top of a crest overlooking Watson Gap and stare into
the cloud bank with glee. Good Photo Op and rest on a log here. I
fiddle with that darned pack but still can not figure it out.
Life is downhill from here, so we're back on the trail. The trail
isn't blazed very well, but it's hard to miss where to step. I
feel like a mountain goat as we tiptoe on rain slicked leaves on
a two-foot wide path. On one side is the mountain and the other a
hundred foot drop to the valley. Barbie is turning green from the
heights and now hurting from the pack, I'm really thinking about
turning us back. The narrow road drops to a bottom and widens
out. The blazing is getting better here, but it looks like the
BMTA hasn't been out here in years. We have a few trees down but
it's nothing we can't hop. In this peaceful low spot you feel so
connected with nature. The birds are out and the trees protect
you from the rain. The world is just perfect. Then a 4x4 drives
over the Forest Service's gravel not twenty feet over your head
and reality crashes back in. Ugh. After messing with Barbie's
pack we press on. A short incline and we are on an old FS Road. I
have a strange mix of sadness and joy. We are off the goat trails
but now we're on a superhighway. Under the slippery leaves are
ankle turning rocks so the going is a little dangerous. We work
our way further into the woods. Halfway into the day, we've found
our first stream, It's a little trickle of water dropping from
the side of the mountain crossing the path to leap into the air
and fall into the mist below. It's flagged, not sure why. They
used a yellow diamond like a BMT Blaze- use caution maybe? It
doesn't matter, we've got four Liters of water plus our hydration
packs. We beat into a thicket of briars. Nasty stuff, we are
covered in grabbers and soaked from the hip down with the water
they were holding on their leaves. A short while later the briars
are replaced with pine trees. They are cute little things, none
taller than my shoulder. It's just not natural, they are inches
apart and the trail is a trial. I do feel sorry for the sucker
that planted the seedlings, hopefully they didn't have to dig a
hole for each tree. We can hear water, must be close to the
river. Turning off the old FS road we drop quickly to the bottom
of the valley. Several trees are down forming a lovely overhang
and make for a good Photo. The South Fork River Trail joins the
BMT here. The BMT makes a quick turn into a small clearing where
a signpost is erected to shuttle hikers onto the right trail. We
use this open area to set our lunch. Trail food never tasted
better, but the Gorp is no where to be found, not cool. We reset
Barbie's pack and head on. She really is a trooper, in pain from
the pack and exhausted by the unusual activity, she hasn't voiced
a single complaint. I am really feeling bad for her and am sorry
I drug her into this. Not far from lunch there is a river
crossing. Well it's really just a crick, but the water is frigid.
Quick hops across, one missed rock and my boots are filled with
icy water. Barbie made it with out a drop, clever girl. There are
two trails here, one angles towards the river and the other
continues straight. We angle toward the river to see why it goes
there and are rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stream. Rocks
and fallen branches form little falls for the swiftly moving
water to bounce along. The spot is perfect and I really consider
staying here tonight. We've only made it two and a half miles
when we had planned six, but with half the party in pain it might
be just far enough. Barbie doesn't want to, she has the plan in
motion to make it to Dyer's Gap so we can hit the shelter if the
weather turns on us. We work up from the river about a quarter
mile when I watch Barbie stagger. Time to regroup. We turn around
and head for the river camping spot. Sometimes it is better to
stop and rest than to push on blindly. We work out to make
bunches of miles tomorrow so we can be in place Monday night for
the meteor shower. After dinner we try a vanilla mouse with
raspberries. The mouse was killer great but the raspberries are
so sour it was almost painful. Lesson learned, don't eat the
berries. We turn in and discover that Barbie's sleeping bag is
soaked through. Double crap. It's going to be all of thirty
degrees out here and her bag is useless. We inflate her air
mattress and bundle up in my sleeping bag, my jacket provides
cover for a few bits of exposed skin and we try to sleep. Near
ten o'clock Barbie gets up to 'feed a tree' and I figure that is
a good idea too. I pull on my boots and notice a flash of light
across the tent. I just shrug it off, figured that Barbie was
just looking around for the Tent and I start to whistle loudly so
she can hear me, find the tent and we can pretend she didn't get
lost going potty. As I ease into a standing position I see the
flashlight meandering off the trail over forty feet from the tent
and I hear a frightened voice squeak out a timid "Honey?" I call
out and grab the closest light maker I could find. Turned out to
be the NOAA Radio's Indi-glo LCD, but its bluish glow transformed
into a million-candle power beacon of hope for my love as she
hurried back to sanctuary. After I made sure she was okay I
rushed to dig my own hole. Once back at the tent she was amazed
that I found my way back with ease. I could see how disappointed
she was in her performance and I fully understand- getting lost
in the woods with a mini-mag and a bright orange potty shovel-
wearing a sweat suit and earmuffs while the temperature continues
to drop below thirty degrees does tend to kick that brave hiker
over the edge and leave you spiraling into a what-if Hell. So I
told her my shovel trick. Honestly I should have told her before
we left the house, I really do not know what I was thinking. The
trick, if you don't know it already, is when you walk away from
the tent, go in a straight line. No working around trees or
snaking through boulders, just straight. Once you find your
perfect potty spot and have dug your hole you shove the shovel
into the ground blade facing the direction you've come in, and
thus tent. That way after you're finished 'feeding the tree' you
just walk the way the shovel is facing and trip over the tent.
Easy, but not something you think of at night in a dark foggy
river bottom when you expect a bear to grab you and haul you into
it's cave for supper.
Sunday. (17.Nov.2002)
I've made up my mind. We are heading for the
truck and depending on how the weather holds today, we might just
go home. With Barbie in this much pain and that darned pack still
misbehaving, not to mention the ten extra pounds of water in her
sleeping bag and the fact that her air mattress went pop sometime
last night we're really not in good shape here. I do want to see
the meteor shower but I can't cart back a dead Girlfriend cause I
wanted to watch lights in the sky, that kind of excuse just
doesn't fly with judges these days. It really all depends on the
weather. If the snow is here like the NOAA is preaching, then we
have to come down the mountain. If they are wrong, maybe we can
loose some of her stuff to the truck and aim for that ridge. I
wiggle out of the sleeping bag and try to tie my boots on. It's
really, really cold today. Open the rainfly and do a double take.
Sometime last night, obviously after Barbie tried to hike back to
the truck alone, the drizzle froze into tiny snowflakes.
Everything is dusted white. It is breath taking. Breakfast is
forgotten as I try for some photos with frozen fingers. This is
worth the cold last night as the forest is blanketed in this
sprinkle of fresh snow. We eat, pack and I tell Barbie the good
news, we're heading for the truck and we are getting off this
mountain before anything else happens to us. NOAA is screaming
about three inches of snow above 3000 feet for tonight so there
is no way in the world we are aiming for our 3300 foot ridge line
for tonight. It's the truck and Blue Ridge's Days Inn or bust. As
I'm filling the water bottles I notice a narrower section of the
stream from yesterday. I really do not want to freeze my foot in
that water, again! We manage to hop across on some downed limbs
and not fall into the water. I almost lost my balance but my
gorgeous hiker woman grabbed hold and jerked me onto the shore
where she promptly fell over backwards. I warned her it was like
being a turtle on it's back- she believes me now. Now we head up
from the river bottom on to the mountain. We stop every hundred
feet or so to rest Barbie's legs and where her pack rubbed her
raw yesterday. The snow sparkles in the trees and makes the trail
absolutely stunning. The views yesterday hardly compare to what
we see today. Trees' branches are covered in tiny icicles and
every upturned leaf holds a pinch of white powder. With horror we
suddenly realize that the snow is falling harder and the
temperature is falling through the floor. We hurried along the
trail over the ground we now know so well. Quick flashes of
memory helped spur us further as we recognized a tree or rock and
we knew how short a distance we had to go. Our halfway mark was
the double blaze turn from the goat path to the FS Road. I
planned on stopping there for a few, maybe eat lunch, but
absolutely rest before the final push to the truck and freedom
from this snow covered lump of granite. The wind continued to
pick up gusting to almost ten miles an hour, at twenty degrees
air temp that makes a wind chill of around two degrees and we
knew every inch of that evil mercury. Barbie had snagged some
chocolate from the bear bag since we still could not find the
Gorp. We munch on that for energy and keep pressing towards the
Truck. We are making excellent time. We both want to be off this
Mountain and back in a climate controlled hotel room with out
delay. I know we are getting colder, we are getting tired and we
decide to skip lunch and hurry on. I think ahead on the trail and
we make plans to stop for Hot Cocoa on the last ridge over Watson
Gap. Barbie is hurting really badly now so we're not making good
time, but the thought of the hot beverage does wonders to our
morale. Just down from the crest of the ridge we stop in a
clearing. Shucking off her pack Barbie grabs the potty shovel and
dashes into the trees. I work to get the cocoa hot. The wail of
the butane-propane mix never sang a sweeter song as it shrieked
through our little burner. Barbie returned in time for boiling
hot water and a mug full of pure chocolate joy. We breached the
crest and stared in wonder at the landscape's change over
yesterday. The trees were perfectly frozen with a good coat of
snow on the ground between them. The mountains in the distance
were likewise covered, like mounds of baked goods dusted in
confectioner's sugar. The view was stunning. Yet the truck was
calling us onward we both knew that within the hour we'd be in
Blue Ridge. The last scramble across the frozen ground was
slightly haphazard. We really didn't want any more delays to our
escape. Halfway down Barbie spotted several cars and our own
lovely chariot of safety. My keyfob wouldn't disarm the alarm,
again, so we had to wake the world with my silly siren. We did
get to meet two nice men and their overexcited German Shepherd,
yet we were not planning on stopping to chat, we had Hotel on the
brain. A fast dash down the now quite slick gravel road and we
dropped below the snow line and into civilization. We staggered
into the lobby of the Days Inn where one of the girls who checked
us in on Friday was waiting. She looked at us in horror and sent
us to a freshly cleaned room to thaw. After a long hot bath and
dinner at the Waffle King next door I pronounced Barbie as living
again and we fell into an exhausted slumber.
Monday. (18.Nov.2002)
We awoke without a plan. Barbie, darling
trooper woman that she is, figured we would hike back into the
hills to watch the showers. But I knew better than that. Her
shoulders and hips are killing her, there's just no way. I would
never ask her to do anything as crazy as limp into the woods. Now
it is time for a new plan. We need a place to watch the showers
from midnight tonight until five or six in the morning. We need a
clear eastern view and as few lights as possible. The first
thought in my mind is Tybee Island and Barbie lights up with
excitement. Knowing it's going to be eight solid hours of
driving, we rush around to get gone from Blue Ridge. The Computer
insists we drive down to Atlanta and then out to Savannah but I
don't want to. I force the fussy laptop to give us a scenic route
through the mountains of North Georgia and into the State of
South Carolina. Our dash through the mountains is one I will
remember forever. Not just because of the company, but because of
the wondrous color and the dramatic views. We crossed the AT and
got to sit in a traffic jam while the DOT refinished the road.
But every minute of delay was worth it. The mountains were alive
with melting ice from the snow yesterday and the trees were
covered in bright patches of yellow and red. In the shadows,
rocks were covered in sheets of ice where the rain runoff froze
in place. We chased a large eighteen-wheeler down out of the
mountains and followed a meandering route to South Carolina.
Munching on the Gorp, which was cleverly hidden in the supply
cooler, and two brownies we raced on our journey to the ocean. We
stopped for a nice lunch and saw the cutest triplets you can
imagine. Three little blonde hared boys of about two or three,
they had the serving staff tripping over themselves to coo and
wave. Yet cute babies aside we still had half our trek to go,
back to the truck! We screamed into Savannah at mock three and
promptly got lost. The road we were on just didn't exist in the
computer and before we knew it we were heading back out of
Savannah! Two rights and a left later and we were correctly
heading out to sea. Under the large oaks with their coats of
Spanish moss we gaped at the beautiful old city. If only I ate
seafood I'd love to live here. The old houses and the
ever-present sea appeal to my spirit like no other place I've
found on earth. We made it to the island and found a nice hotel
to stay in. The girls at the front desk found it funny that we
would come to Tybee and only want tofu, yet they gave us good
directions to some Vegetarian friendly restaurants. After
dropping our bags in the huge room and gaping at the ocean from
our third floor balcony I took my ocean-ecstatic Girlfriend to
dinner. We hit Fannie's On the Beach. Dinner was good, after the
freeze-dried veggies the real deal were a welcome taste. We both
were eyeing dessert when tragedy struck. I took a swallow from my
coke and found a dead cockroach. It was one of the most painful
moments of my life. Like mega-maid from 'Spaceballs' I switched
from sucking down everything in sight straight to blowing
everything I had eaten in the past few days across the table. It
took every ounce of willpower to keep from loosing everything.
Our waitress walked up and when shown the offending bug, she was
visibly upset and similarly disgusted. She hurried away,
apologies flowing heavily in her wake. Barbara was trying very
hard to handle her disgust with this fine eating establishment.
Dear reader, don't stop now, it gets so much better. Upon
returning the still shaken waitress was grilled by my sweet love
about the restaurant's Bug Spray policy. I was most surprised to
find out that Fannie's on the Beach got sprayed every week.
However I do not think I was as shocked as our server was when we
declined desert and simply wanted the cheque. It must have been
the first sale the waitress had since the manager was nice enough
to let the waitress ring up our dinner. The manager even ignored
Barbie and I as we waited to speak with her, just so the waitress
could complete the sale on her own. However, something was
missing from the cheque, they left off my coke and they didn't
even charge us for the after-dinner roach, how thoughtful. This
quality leadership is just what is needed in the workforce today.
I think all managers should take a lesson from this. Let your
troops take the fall for the problems and you can steal their
good fortune and rewards. As Barbie and I wandered back to our
hotel room we reflected on the madness of the day. The high-speed
rush from the mountains to the oceans, the small
convenience/hardware/bait & tackle store where we got coffee
(for twenty cents), and the wonderful Tybee Island cuisine we
enjoyed and the colorful people we'd come to meet. From the
triplets to the Crackle Barrel manager who had no idea what lard
was, to the excellent management staff at 'Fannie's on the
Beach', it truly was an interesting day.
All photos, graphics, scuplture, web pages and
descriptions are copyright
(©) 2003-2012 Dr. Geof Franklin unless otherwise stated.
Please do not copy, use or link to our graphics or files
without permission, Thank you!
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