Tallulah Gorge Adventure

You learn things when you're traveling with dogs for the first time. I think that statement is a sub-category of the you-learn-things-when-traveling-with-small-children-for-the-first-time, only it's embarassing in different ways.

When I went to north Georgia for the weekend colors, I decided that it was time to get my dogs accustomed to traveling with me. There's a guy on flickr who lives in Colorado and owns a handsome German Shepherd, a female he takes *everywhere*. He loves posting these pictures of his handsome dog galloping around Eldorado Canyon or Jones Pass, romping at Engineer Pass and the ghost town of Animas Forks.

My dogs could do that. Sure they could. Petey would love it. Mollie would love it.

Well, I learned a few things, like I said. First, if I'm going to be out, they need to be on separate leashes. This would mean that the person I'm climbing the trails with could take the calm, sane dog (Petey), while I manage the slightly crazy dog (Mollie). They also need to be on harnesses, as I kept having this terrible vision of them both backing out of their collars and running along the trails of Tallulah Gorge, unencumbered by the restrictions of leashes.

The next thing I learned is that lots of people like bringing their dogs out on the trail. German Shepherds. Beagles. And something I couldn't identify, but would compare to a grizzly bear with a long tail.

The next thing I learned is that Mollie doesn't like those dogs. When she doesn't like those dogs, she barks. A lot. More than a lot. As I sat with her, holding her next to me on a convenient bench, a woman who'd been on the trail behind us approached me and said, "Is this the only dog here? From the top of the trail, I thought there had to be a pack of them."

"No, just this one," I said with a slight smile, which I hope conveyed the proper tone of, "And thanks for saying that out loud. You can leave now."

The next thing I learned is that, even when Mollie has reasonably stopped barking, and is settled down next to me, she's not completely through with the batshit crazy phase, and small children should not pet her. Particularly not near her head, which is next to her face, which is really close to her teeth. It's really not a good idea at all. Nope. You guessed it. She snapped at a little girl. Bit her, to be precise. Broke the skin. Tears. Embarrassment. Paranoia of impending lawsuits. Long story short, the pleasant outing with the kids was bigger that we could handle the first time out. Full of remorse, I didn't just lead Mollie back to the car, I carried her back to the car. Uphill. Mollie is heavy. She needs to be on a diet. I thought my lungs would explode. Another smartalecky-older-woman observed us as we trudged back to the car. "Huh, nice life," she said, indicating the dog. Mollie could have made it up the hill, I'm sure. I just didn't want her out of my sight. I got my workout that day. And this was an otherwise momentous day, because Petey, who never NEVER nevah does his business (I mean number two) while on a leash, actually was so excited by all the smells of *actual* nature that he took care of things like he'd done it all his life. He became a man (or a dog rather), on the trail. It was a shining moment. I knew it couldn't last. He was crushed when I put them both back in the car. I'm quite sure he dressed her down the rest of the trip.

Women. You could see him muttering this under his breath.

Maybe I should also get Mollie a muzzle. I think I'll be looking into some high mountain gear before I head up to Animas Forks with my animas. We're learning.

--Laura

Happy Birthday, Dad

I'll see you Tuesday. I wasn't able to outsource the cake duties to my friend, Dan, so get ready. I know you're used to mom's cakes which lean like a drunken sailor. I hope mine taste good *and* stand up straight.

I look forward to it.

-Laura

A Visit to Travelers Rest, Georgia

Last weekend I went to north Georgia for a dose of fall color. In my opinion, if the seasons were four sisters in the same family, fall would be the ridiculously pretty sister, the one who also had a great personality.

We were also able to stay in the city of Toccoa without spending any on lodging, thanks to my aunt, who owns a rental in Toccoa. Her mother would normally be there, but had been recently moved to a nursing home due to some health issues. So we were asked to stir up the place a little, and so that's what we did.

The visit to Travelers Rest was a bit of an accident. After a day of exploring Tallulah Falls gorge, we came back to Toccoa a little early to turn in, but a little late to do an entirely new activity, so I thought a drive to the South Carolina border would be a bit of a novelty. Toccoa sits about 20 minutes from the border, and the road you take passes by the turn to Travelers Rest. So that night, I mentioned it, and promised that we'd stop by to have a look the next morning, when we could actually see it. I doubted that it would be open on Sunday, however, but figured we could look around the grounds.

Well, Travelers Rest WAS open the next day. There was a cost to view the interior and get the tour, but you could wander the grounds for free. Admission: $4. Surprisingly, we were the only ones I saw paying the admission fee. The vast majority of people were wandering the grounds aimlessly reading signs they probably had no context for understanding.

And can I tell you something? I had no idea of the historical significance of the place. I was astounded. This unassuming spot in northeast Georgia has been touched by Creeks and Cherokees, commerce and bloodshed, Civil and Revolutionary war soldiers, politicians and merchants. It's been the crossroads of commerce and the center of obscurity. It was prized by the richest man in Tugalo Valley.

I saw it all for $4.

Some of my pictures are here.

But there's a cautionary tale here as well. The funding for the site is being cut, forcing the facility to cut days, hours and jobs. The jobs they are cutting include people who know more about this facility and the surrounding area than all but some of the oldtimers still living. We spent hours there listening to their stories, about past visitors, family reunions involving the white and black descendants of the same family line, about all the nooks and crannies of this fascinating historical gem. These same people fear for their jobs.

But here's what I'm getting at. The economy is bad these days, but this is our history. So instead of driving long distances to spend money you're concerned about parting with, go online today and find your Travelers Rest. The national register of historical places is a good place to start, and they have listings by state. They won't all be cheap tickets. But lots of historical sites are ridiculously cheap and crying for your attention. And if we don't value them, they will disappear.

If you're going to stimulate the economy, think about saying something with your money, about what you value and about what you think needs preserving. I think all historical societies will appreciate your business.