Cloud Canyon State Park, GA

After this morning's treacherous hike up from the bottom of the gully back to the car, I was wary of tonight's campsite, being my second hike-in. But it's only a walk-in which means a flat and easy path from the car, no more than thirty or so yards away. Last night I think that must be what they call back-country camping. After I let the fire go out I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me, even with the lantern. And tonight I even got my fire started on the first try, though I still can't figure out how to make it big like a real campfire. I just need enough heat to cook my dinner and enough light to keep me company. Though I do keep trying, don't I?

Today I passed out of South Carolina. It made me sad because I liked South Carolina, though I don't know that South Carolina liked me very much. Gas shortage along Route 11 terrified me. All the pumps had plastic bags on the handles to indicate they were dry. At somewhere well below a quarter tank I found a station that was rationing and would sell me twenty bucks worth.


And so I made it to Georgia. I decided to veer off my itinerary today. I wanted to pass through Commerce, the town Cold Sassy Tree was based on. I was shocked no one there could tell me anything about it. I tried the gift-shop, the antique store, and the library. From the website I remembered the Civic Center was Grandpa Blakeslee's store, so I took a picture of it, and fell in love with the ladies in the antique store, but that was all I got out of that stop. That and the half-thought-out idea I should take back roads the rest of the way to Chickamauga. Needless to say I didn't make it to Chickamauga today. I didn't get lost either, but meandering along back roads sure does pass time. In Georgia, I've found, at every curve in the road there's a Baptist Church. I have never in my life seen so many Baptist churches. There are also yard sales at every house on the highway, countless autobody shops and fireworks emporiums. And pickup trucks. I don't mean to sound cliché but I'd venture to guess two out of every three cars I've seen today have been either pickups or SUVs.

I wish I had something insightful or profound to say but I don't. Poppy keeps asking if I'm having fun, and I keep telling him yes, but I'm not really. Though fun wasn't what I came down here looking for. Neither was profound or insightful for that matter. So many people are so interested in this trip of mine, and I don't want to let them down, but I don't think I'm coming home with much to say. I've found peace and quiet and that's what I was looking for. I've found a lack of fear and I've found endless roads, and I've found that I'm worthless at starting fires. And I haven't washed my hair in four days and I stink to high heaven of Deet and sweat and campfire, and I'm so content to find there is so very little I need.