We are now deep in the heart of Georgia... South Georgia to be specific, about 25 miles north of Valdosta.
Let me share a few shots of the start of the day back at Harrison Bay State Park, Tennessee. I told you last night that we could more accurately describe our position as "over" Chicamauga Lake than on its shores. Here are some early morning shots from in or next to the trailer to show you what I meant by that:
We are starting to feel the pull of getting back home pretty strongly. At one point over dinner last night Mrs. C' and I asked each other at almost the same time "Should we plan to get home a day or two sooner?". It was a blessing to know we were both at least considering the possibility. Maybe you've been in the situation where one member of the traveling team asks that question and the other responds "aren't you having fun being together with me on this trip of a lifetime?". Well, that's never happened to me, but I can imagine it would be pretty awkward... Not so 4+ weeks into this trip.
We looked into it last night and determined that driving the 10 hours from Chattanooga to Vero Beach in one day was a bit much. Ten driving hours as the Google flys means 13 or more as the Silver Cliche' flys... and when asked to do so, she does fly. I'm not sure about the gas tanks and bladers of those folks at Google, but evidently both are unlimited. Not so us. We then looked into making it a two day trip instad of the planned three. Bingo! Thanks to Reserve America we found and booked a campsite at Reed Bingham State Park. That set us up for 5 hours today, 5 hours tomorrow and a plunge in the pool at home by Saturday dinner time.
So we hit the road a bit early... 9:00 in Chattanooga and headed south on I-75 toward... "Hotlanta"... The capital of the new south. We moved along and reached the big city at about 11:30. Fortunately, we missed both rush hours and that meant only 15 minutes of traffic delays in the center of the city. Atlanta is the largest metropolitan area we have passed in our travels but surprising to me is that it is the 4th largest city we've traversed. In descending order by population, the three larger are: Denver, Memphis and Louisville. What? I know, me too. Look it up. I suspect the people in Louisville were each armed with a locally made "Slugger" and threatened the guy doing the survey... but I may be a conspiracy theorist. The facts say Atlanta proper is smaller.
We quickly saw why the city is nicknamed "Hotlanta". It was hotter than bachelor party entertainment there. At one point in the early afternoon the thermometer on the Tundra read 99 degrees on I-75. I could only imagine the temp inside the trailer. Remember that scene from "Django Unchained" where Leo Decapria has the slave woman put in the metal box in the southern sun in the summer as punishment? Well, our home is a metal box and this is the south on a summer day. Unlike Leo, I wasn't going to ask anyone -- man or woman -- to face the hot box. So we stopped in Macon, Georgia to get take -out from one of their barbecue joints -- Satterfield's. Georgia is known for its chopped pork barbecue. Not pulled... chopped... into small cubes and doused with red sauce. I'm more of a pulled pork man myself, but I ate a Bierock in Kansas and a Hot Brown in Kentucky and if the Georgians eat chopped pork then so can I. I ordered a serving with fried ocra and cole slaw. Mrs. C' went for the St. Louis style ribs (dry). I carried the bag to the still running and quite cool Tundra and we dug in. Surprise! Satterfield must be from the Carolinas. The pork was pulled and doused in a mustard barbecue sauce like they serve in Charlotte or Chapel Hill. Good, to be sure, but finding Carolina barbecue in Macon was like... well... ordering sushi in Tokyo and finding it was served "fra diavolo". Nevertheless, we enjoyed the meal and headed back to I-75 south. We were treated to a short rainstorm en route which literally took 20 degrees off the temp... for about 10 minutes.
We arrived at Reed Bingham at about 4:30. The shine from the sun on the airstream fried some ants in the parking lot. Don't worry, they've got plenty more. I have never heard of Reed Bingham and don't plan to research him on Google. I can make an educated guess that he loved beautiful outdoor places and he studied bugs. I should have known we were in trouble when I was standing at the check in desk inside the ranger's station getting my info and passes and I was swatting bugs. Let me repeat: I was indoors at the time in an air conditioned building. We picked a beautiful shady spot under oak trees festooned with Spanish moss. Here... Look at this pic:
I told Mrs. C' that she might be more comfortable staying in the truck with the AC and the dogs while I prepared the trailer for habitation. I hooked up the power and went inside to turn on the AC. The blast that hit me as the entry door opened was like the blast from the oven when you open it to see if the cookies are baked. The thermometer inside read 99. Reflecting on the feeling I had upon entering the trailer I'm now guessing that 99 degrees is the max reading it will display. I think I need to get out the thermostat manual from the 35 pounds of manuals Airstream handed me when we picked up the trailer to check that fact. Anyway... it was HOT in there. I used an oooold trick we developed in Kansas three weeks ago. Since there was a hose spigot right at our campsite and since I carry hoses, I took a 75' garden hose, put on the sprayer attachment and proceeded to spray the trailer on all sides and top with water. Remember how I told you I suspect Reed Bingham was a bug man? After ten minutes of trying to cool the trailer for my dear wife and two dogs I was covered with mosquito bites and had so many black gnats on me that I looked like I had passed through a tar mister. I went inside. The thermostat now read 98. Progress! It was all worth it (I told myself). Feeling like a hero and ready to claim my praise and laurel wreath I sought out Mrs. C' who was in the trailer by this time. To my surprise she did not appreciate the progress I was making half as much as I thought she would... Ok, not even a tenth as much... Ok, not at all. We decided to close the doors, grab a cold drink and wait for the AC to work its magic. Now after two full hours with the sun off the trailer thanks to the oaks and moss it's down to 81.
So tomorrow we can complete the circuit... reach Vero Beach and home... back to where it all began. I think I'll write one more post for this trip, an epilogue, if you'll allow me. I've been using windshield time to effect on what we've seen and what it means. I think I'll try to synthesize those thoughts into the essence of what I've learned and noticed on the trip. I'm sure there is something to be said about the parts of America that are genuine (Hays, Kansas; Firehole Canyon, Wyoming; Galesburg, Illinois) the parts of America that aren't (Jackson, Wyoming; Chattanooga, Tennessee), the sheer size and emptiness of our country and its amazing variety and beauty. I'm not sure I'm the guy to synthesize 6,500 miles on the road into a few grand observations... but I may be the guy who will try.
Next time from home in Florida....
SC
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