GUNS & PEANUTS

I’m home alone this weekend, as Christy and Saucony are visiting family in Pennsylvania. Since they are out of the house, I’ve invited Wally and Dexter to help me write this trip report. As you probably already know, Wally is a squirrel that is currently living in our living room wall. Dexter is a stray cat that has taken up residence under our back deck. Welcome guys!

Dexter: Thanks, we’re glad to be here….

Wally: Are you sure they’re gone? All that dog does is stare at the living room wall. Sometimes, I swear I can smell her breath on the other side of the drywall. And the last I saw of Christy, she was walking around the yard with a BB gun. What’s she up to?

Well, she’s looking to, um, exterminate a critter. It’s nothing for you to worry about, Wally.

Wally: Hey, that sounds like something Larry the Cableguy would do. Stalking critters in the backyard with a BB gun!

Dexter: You might be a redneck if…you spend hours on the porch with a BB gun, trying to ambush squirrels!

Wally: Squirrels?

Dexter: Git R done!

Guys, do you think we could get on with the trip report? This thing isn’t going to write itself, you know.

Dexter: Lord, I apologize for that there.

The region where Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia meet has one of the largest concentrations of caves in the country. The spelunking community…

Wally: What is that, a home for hobbits?

As I was saying, the spelunking community refers to this area as “TAG”, since that’s a lot easier to say than “where Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia come together”. Unfortunately, my job last week didn’t take me there. Instead, I was heading for Blakely, Georgia, down near where Florida, Alabama, and Georgia meet.

Wally: So, would that be “FAG”?

Anyway, this area isn’t known for caves. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, there aren’t any caves there at all. But there is a canyon.

Providence Canyon State Park is located south of Columbus. According to the park’s website (http://gastateparks.org/info.asp?id=20&linkval=providence&siteid=5), the canyon was created by erosion due to poor farming practices in the 19^th century.

Dexter: Wow, that really makes me want to visit!

Yes, the Georgia State Park’s marketing department could use some work. Actually it gets worse. I hate to say this, but I see it as my duty to report the facts. The slogan they’ve attributed to this canyon is…

Dexter: Oh no. Please don’t say it.

Wally: You don’t mean…?

Yes, they refer to it as “The Little Grand Canyon of Georgia”.

Dexter: I was afraid you were going to say that.

Wally: My ears are bleeding.

Yes, it’s horrible, isn’t it? If there’s a more tired expression out there, I haven’t heard it. The stunning thing is that the park’s website managed to work “The Little Grand Canyon of Georgia” and “created by erosion due to poor farming practices” into the same paragraph. After my visit there, I can definitively say that it’s no Grand Canyon. It is rather pretty though, and quite colorful. It might qualify as the “Little Bryce Canyon of Georgia”.

Dexter: That will never work, the reference is too obscure.

You’re probably right. We’ll come back to Providence Canyon in a bit. First I want to tell you about my week in Blakely, Georgia.

Wally: Where?

Exactly. To get there, drive to the middle of nowhere, turn left off the paved road, and keep going until you run out of gas. Blakely is surrounded by peanut farms, and there is a large peanut factory right in the middle of town

Wally: I’m sorry, I nodded off. Did somebody say something about nuts?

Try to pay attention. Anyway, my week in Blakely was like an episode from the twilight zone. There was something about that town that just wasn’t quite right. Have you ever seen the movie “Children of the Corn”? It was kind of like that, except this would be “Children of the Peanuts”, I guess. Anyway, the weirdest thing to happen that week was when I stopped at the Georgia Brown restaurant one evening for dinner.

Dexter: Was Georgia Brown James’ mama?

Wally: Get up offa that thing!

I’m not sure. Anyway, I stopped for dinner, even though the place looked more like somebody’s house than a restaurant. It was just a tiny little building, without any windows to speak of, tucked back underneath some Oak trees decorated with Spanish Moss. There was only one car in the parking lot, and it looked more like a home for stray cats than a functioning automobile.

Dexter: Yes, hello?

Anyway, I walked up to the door, which also looked more like the door to someone’s house. I was a little reluctant to go in, but I did. Inside, I was relieved to see tables, and a cash register. An extremely tall woman wearing what appeared to be a nightgown greeted me at the door. She didn’t exactly look like the woman from “The Adams Family”, but she certainly had her mannerisms. The following bizarre conversation ensued:

Ms. Adams: Hello.

Me: Hi.

Ms. Adams: How are you doing today?

Me: I’m doing well. How are you?

Ms. Adams: I’m fine, thanks for asking.

At this point, I’m thinking that this is going to take a long time. Before each of her responses was a long pause, as if she was carefully considering what to say. I couldn’t wait until I got around to ordering. God forbid I’d ask her what salad dressings they had. Anyway, back to the conversation.

Ms. Adams: Have you come for dinner?

Hey, now we’re getting somewhere! But what else would I be there for? A handful of absurd responses bounced around in my brain. I thought about telling her that I had actually stopped by to invite her to participate in a unique marketing opportunity. I also considering saying that the car out front had collapsed, killing a dozen cats.

Dexter: Hello, what?

I quickly rejected all of this. At the same time I realized that she had complete control of the conversation. I was in the middle of a ten-second pause, while trying to come up with an answer to her question. I decided to keep it simple.

Me: Yes!

Ms. Adams: (Lengthy pause) Oh. (pause) Well I’m sorry, we’re closed tonight. (pause) We’re only open on Thursday, (pause) Friday, (pause), and Saturday.

Me: Well, I’ll have to try back tomorrow!

I of course had no intention of coming back on Thursday. Frankly, I was feeling pretty lucky just to get out of there alive. The way Ms. Adams was looking at me, I was afraid she was thinking that I’d make a pretty good entrée. And what was up with that nightgown, anyway?

Wally: You should have gone to Sagebrush. They have peanuts right there on the table!

I was a 2-hour drive from the nearest Sagebrush. Instead, I headed downtown, to the Blakely Fish House. Now, Blakely is still what I would call a segregated town. It’s not much exaggeration to say that the town still has separate establishments for each race. It turns out that the Blakely Fish House is what you might call a “black” restaurant. I realized this when I arrived, but decided I wasn’t going to not go in because of it.

I’m glad I didn’t chicken out. The experience was odd, but the food was good. Inside the restaurant (which is in a trailer) are a handful of tables. At one was an old black man. For the longest time, I thought he was staring at me. I was beginning to get nervous, when I finally realized that he just had a lazy eye, and was staring off into space. We actually had a conversation at one point, but I can’t tell you about it, because I didn’t understand hardly anything he said, though there was something about guns and peanuts.

Anyway, I spent my time looking around for a posted health inspection, but couldn’t find one. Sometimes it’s better if you don’t know. An extremely large woman brought me a plate of shrimp. This woman cooked the shrimp, waited tables, washed the dishes, and handled the money. At one point, I think I saw her coming out of the bathroom with a mop. Anyway, the shrimp were fantastic. For some reason I wasn’t surprised.

My last evening there, I visited Kolomoki Mounds State Park. I was really only looking for a nice place to run, but the park turned out to be rather interesting. The park protects an archeological area of some significance. There are a handful of mounds throughout the park, built by Indians hundreds of years ago. Some of them were used as burial mounds, but others weren’t. Why the Indians built them is still a mystery.

The largest of the mounds is quite impressive, as it stands nearly 100’ high. It’s covered in dense vegetation, lending it a tropical feel that goes nicely with the park’s name. Before I ran, I did a short ½ mile walk around the largest mound. A staircase leads to the top, where I found a pleasant view out over rolling hills and peanut farms.

After my walk, it was time to run. I drove over to the Swift Creek Trailhead, and parked at a small pond, where a sign warned against swimming, due to the presence of alligators. I ran up the road, and headed into the woods on the Swift Creek Trail. It wasn’t long before I realized I had made a mistake. The trail was rough, and somewhat overgrown. This would’ve been fine for hiking, but not running. I was sweating profusely, and running through dense clouds of gnats that stuck to my skin. I was thinking about turning around when I ran straight into a huge spiderweb. The last thing I saw before I hit it was a black spider the size of my foot.

Dexter: Oh come on now.

Ok, my hand.

Dexter: Really.

All right, it was the size of a golf ball. I think that’s quite large enough, don’t you? I felt the spider run across my back, and I lost it. I was flailing around, slapping at the spider and trying to wipe the web off. I’m glad nobody was around, because my appearance must’ve been something. After all, the way I was dancing around and sweating and groping myself, I’m sure I would’ve terrified small children. I must’ve looked like…

Dexter: Michael Jackson?

No, I’m not that pale.

Dexter: Yes, I’ve seen you out sunning yourself on my deck.

Your deck?

Wally: At least then he’s not in my living room.

Your living room??

Dexter: Shouldn’t you get back to the story? I want to hear more about this spider.

I think this is how phobias are born. I’ve never been afraid of spiders, or at least I wasn’t before this. I turned around and ran back the way I came, but I wasn’t convinced that the spider was off of me until I got back to the hotel and into the shower. Even then, I wasn’t sure.

I left Blakely at 3:30 on Thursday. I had a long drive ahead of me, but Providence Canyon was only a few miles out of the way. I didn’t know when I’d be back in the area (hopefully never), so I decided to stop.

I parked near the first bathroom, and paid the $3 fee. I decided to hike the oddly named White Blaze Trail. I say oddly named, because I saw exactly two blazes along its 3-mile length. The park also features a 7-mile trail with backcountry campsites, but I didn’t have enough time to hike that one.

I headed behind the bathroom and picked up the trail to the first overlook. From the rim, I had a nice view out over a handful of colorful canyons. Narrow ridges of sandstone divide the canyon into multiple fingers. The canyon isn’t deep, but it is colorful, with brown, white, and orange rock contrasting with the green foliage.

The “White Blaze Trail” allegedly follows the rim, before descending to the canyon floor and looping back up. In reality, there is no trail between the various overlooks. It appears that most visitors park near the first overlook, take in the view, return to their cars, and drive a couple hundred yards to the next overlook. If there was a trail between the viewpoints, it was frequently overgrown. I managed to find my way through, and reached the visitors center, where the trail begins its descent to the bottom of the canyon.

It only took a few minutes to reach the canyon floor. A small muddy stream flows through the canyon, but the dense vegetation down there eliminates any views. I stayed on the trail, but it might have been interesting to explore up the streambed. I didn’t have that kind of time, so I continued on the trail back up to the rim.

As luck would have it, I saved the best part of the hike for last. The best views are at the east end of the rim. Unfortunately, a nearly continuous fence runs along the rim, which limits the photographic possibilities. Well, it limits them if you choose to obey the rules that forbid climbing over the fence. I think I got some pretty good pictures.

Dexter: You rebel!

I looped back to the car after 90 minutes of hiking. My visit to Providence Canyon was enjoyable, but it certainly wouldn’t be worth driving down there from Charlotte. In fact, it’s probably not even worth driving there from Atlanta. But if you happen to be nearby, it’s worth a visit.

My thanks go out to Wally and Dexter, for their help writing this trip report. I’ll have to have them back again sometime. Or not.

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