We woke up in Macon, Georgia to a robust 67 degrees. That’s plum cold, you know? Or is that plumb? Probably the second. Plumb indicates measurement is involved. And cold is a measurement. But then, every plum I ever ate tasted nice and cool when I bit into it. So … take your pick. It’s a colloquialism anyway.
We started our Eastern time zone day at 8:30. So that would be 7:30 real time. Still sleepy? Our first goal destination was some Indian burial grounds that have National Park designation: Ocmulgee National Park ancient burial and temple mounds. We climbed a lot of hill trails and stairs to get to the highest points. Chris even went inside one mound where she had to bend over to get through the entrance tunnel. She was not too excited about that.
On our way out of the park Chris was forced to drive under a tiny, somewhat-crumbly, one lane railroad bridge - with a train rumbling overhead. She was not too excited about that. Hmm. I’m sensing a familiar theme.
My last act of exuberance came when I played Stump the Ranger. It wasn’t an actual game … but I did have a question. I asked what kind of tree was growing right outside the door. It had acorns, but the leaves weren’t the same shape as the oak trees in Galveston. She tried several options, but admitted she really didn’t know. She finally settled on some member of the yellow oak family, maybe the blackjack oak. I looked them up. Not blackjack for sure. Leaves don’t match at all. Correct on the yellow oak part, though. I’ll give her full credit anyway.
Oh, I almost forgot. It took a while but I finally found a worthy critter-esque travel buddy. A random wooly mammoth happened to cross my path. And his name was Willy. Now who wouldn’t adopt a lonely little wooly mammoth named Willy. Willy the Wooly Mammoth. Say that ten times really fast.
Next stop … Atlanta. Gotta admit, this was my least favorite goal site of the entire trip. I just wasn’t all that excited about going downtown in a huge city. But hey. We’re on vacation, right? Time for adventure, right? Onward and upward to Atlanta, then.
First stop - Jimmy Carter, of course. Had to finish out his story. His presidential library was located smack in the middle of Atlanta. But … it was also located on 34 acres of lush green grass and lots of trees. Gorgeous place.
Since we were in the belly of the beast anyway, we headed over to a real “difficult” part of town that housed the Martin Luther King National Park. That one was kind of weird. It was spread out between a school, the visitor center, a massive tribute building, and down the block a ways was the house he was born in. We made the walk thinking we could get into the gift shop next door. Nope. It was closed. Oh, well.
Next we went to the Chatahoochie River National rec area. Big news there? Threefold.
- Chris got a stamp.
- We saw some homeschoolers enjoying the Ranger’s electron microscope looking at bugs and things.
- A squirrel did his best to hitch a ride with us under the car, but he finally gave up.
Next we went to Kenesaw Mountain. No, it wasn’t the grave of a certain first-ever baseball commissioner who banned Shoeless Joe for life. It was an actual mountain, and the site of a key battle of the Civil War leading up to the Union army taking Atlanta. The first monument we saw was one to the Texas fighters for the Confederacy. Interesting.
And speaking of interesting, we learned that the fiercest fighting took place in a section of the mountain called Cheatham Hill. And as we hiked up to the biggest monument on the mountain, one to the Illinois volunteers, we saw not one, but three signs marking the positions of a certain Vaughan Brigade, again of the Confederacy. Front lines all the way.
We finally got in some serious hiking there. The trail wasn’t paved. It was up and down a mountain. I was kind of worried about Chris’ heart. Not about mine, though. But it’s been a while since we had a chance to hike like that. We have both missed it.
Last night we made it all the way to Dalton, Georgia, just south of Chattanooga. Cracker Barrel again for a quick supper, then back to the room to crash.
Psalms 30:5 says, For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Father, thank you for the chance to hike yesterday. Even through her huffing and puffing, Chris said she really enjoyed it. Me too. Amen.
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