The mountains are calling, and I must go ...

In a letter to his sister Sarah in September 1873, John Muir (Scottish-American environmentalist, naturalist, author and more, 1838-1914) was recalling his longest and hardest trip into the mountains, but still felt determined to be off again, working in the mountains... He would wake up at 4:30 am and start writing ... he told her "The mountains are calling and I must go, and I will work on while I can..." I have this quotation painted on a piece of wood in my kitchen (that I bought in Dahlonega, a southern Appalachian mountain village in Georgia.)

As for me, I'm not called to the mountains for work, but to lift my spirits and improve my outlook on life. In a 2013 post "Times goes by in a park..." I explained that since childhood I have lived near mountains or hills. High places have been a sort of refuge for me from the distress of the world. In time of sadness, such as those painful last weeks in Nashville after the school shootings in my neighborhood, I crave going to the mountains. On the first anniversary of the month my husband died I drove to the North Carolina and the North Georgia mountains to find solace in nature (see my post of Oct. 2019 "Lake Chatuge in the N GA Mountains." (I hope I can convey the feelings because as I get older I sometime search for words and they usually come back in French first (my native language) then I have to translate them into English!) A week or so ago, I drove to my house in Georgia then a couple of days later drove on to the North GA Mountains, to Hiawassee (population as of 2022: 961.) I stayed at a lodge on a hill overlooking Lake Chatuge. Fortunately, there was a lovely view of the lake and mountains from my little balcony.

A mile from this lodge is the Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens. The weekend before I arrived in Hiawassee was the start of their "Rhododendron Festival" which lasts five weekends from April 14 through May 14, 2023, with craft vendors, live music, plant sale, etc. The gardens are open all year long. From May through October the gardens also host moonlight concerts. Peak rhododendron viewing is usually from mid April through May.

I went there on Tuesday April 18 which was a bit early for this season; because of the unusual hard freeze this past winter most of the rhododendrons were not blooming yet, although some different varieties were in pots for sale (click on collage to enlarge and read panels.)

Fred R. Hamilton, Sr. (1914-1996) and his wife Hazel began growing rhododendrons in their Atlanta garden in 1952. There they collected native rhododendrons and azaleas. They also had a mountain getaway on the slopes of Lake Chatuge in Hiawassee, Georgia, where they developed hybrids and where, later, they relocated their 1000+ plants. In 1981 they donated them to Towns County in what is now known as the Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens. This 33 acre enchanting garden is located atop the Georgia Mountain Fairgrounds campus. It contains more than 1,500 rhododendrons (400 varieties) as well as native azaleas, tulip magnolias, dogwoods, redbuds, hydrangeas, and wildflowers native to the Appalachian Mountains like Solomon's seal, wild ginger, lady slippers, trout lily, and trillium. In addition in 2018, as part of the Daffodil Project, and international campaign to plant 1.5 million daffodils worldwide as a tribute to the children lost in the Holocaust, 600 daffodil bulbs were added to the garden.

There were few visitors around the day I stopped by the gardens. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. Even if most of the rhododendrons were not in bloom many of the azalea bushes were. Azaleas, with tubular and funnel shape flowers, are in the genus rhododendron; they are deciduous and lose their leaves in the fall. Rhododendrons, with bell shaped flowers, are evergreen and keep their leaves in winter. Fred Hamilton developed the yellow azalea, the only domestic yellow azalea in existence, which he named after his wife, Hazel (Rhododendron flammeum 'Hazel Hamilton'.)

I did not walk the whole 2 miles of mulched woodland trails through the property as some of the walking paths were winding down to the lake shore and were rather steep. There were many benches scattered along the way. I just traded in my old Nikon camera for a newer model and was testing it. Although to make sure, I also carried my Canon and small Sony (and then I even took photos with my cell phone, because why not.)

One of the most spectacular shrubs there was the "flame" azalea. It is native of the Appalachian Mountains. Mountain people call it also butterfly azalea or wild honeysuckle. The striking flowers certainly lighten the woodland like little fires.

There were small wood bridges along the trails.

I walked very slowly because I kept stopping to take closeups of the flowers.

As I made my way around the pine bark trail some bursting soft pink azalea shrubs lead me to the Bonnie Day arbor. I enjoyed resting on a bench for a little while.

Then I took the 'Cut Across Trail' to have a look at the Claude Brooks waterwheel. First a profusion of blooming hot pink rhododendrons greeted me at the Claudia Brooks overlook.

I took more closeups of some of the plants for sale next to the garden shop.

These stunning gardens are very peaceful and tranquil; an enchanting spot to relax and escape from it all. The Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens was designated a state botanical garden by the Georgia Legislature in 2003. It boasts the largest collection of rhododendron in the Southeast. Then it was time to return to the lodge.

A needed rest on my little balcony was welcome. Then as the evening grew I soaked in the beauty of the sky changing color over the lake.

"This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls." -John Muir, 1938.

Old Car City in White, Georgia

On Sunday 6 November, 2022 I drove the 4 1/2 hours from Nashville to Greater Atlanta so I could vote in the mid-term elections on Tuesday Nov. 8. Before, I usually voted during advance voting at the main Cobb County polling place, but this time I could not. At about 10 am I drove to where I used to vote in my area. There were just a couple of cars in the parking lot; I thought they had moved the voting location but a sign showing "vote here" was in front of the door so I went in. I was first in line and it took me only ten minutes to vote. Of course I live in the extreme northwest of Cobb County, in the rural area where houses are far in between (my neighbor has 40 acres between us behind the lake, and the next one is a farm.)

Thursday Nov. 10 was a bright and sunny fall day begging for me to stay oudoors, but where to go? In early 2020 I had planned to become a member of the Nashville Photo Club; then Covid happened and I did not. They met monthly and went on regular outings, near and far. They had been planning to drive to White in North Georgia to an old car junkyard-museum. I checked and realized it was only 26 miles from my Georgia house. If they were willing to drive 4+ hours to visit, I certainly could drive half an hour to take a look. So this is what I did that day. My house is not far from the Bartow county line. The red dot below, between Acworth and Kennesaw, is where my house is located.

Arriving around 10:30 am there was just another car in the parking lot (from Pennsyvania.) Old Car City is on highway US-411 with just a small southern restaurant across the road. I went in and paid the entrance fee (cash only.) There was an eclectic assortment of memorabilia, vintage collectible, antique toys, Americana, an old piano, etc. in the interior area.

I was shown a map then told the property had 6.5 miles of trails on the 34 acres (137,593.12 sq meters.) I walked by a sign with a short history of the business and a witch left over from Halloween when they offered a spooky "Haunted Trails." (Click on collage to enlarge and read better.)

The parents of Dean Lewis, the current owner, started a general store in 1931 that sold various items from tires, gasoline, clothing and car parts. Because of the Great Depression steel was scarce so they changed their line to scrapping cars; by the late 1940s it had become a salvage yard. When Dean acquired the business in 1970 there were 40 cars on the lot. He had a passion for old cars and spent decades acquiring wrecked and junked vehicles from recycling yards, auctions and private parties. But Dean did not like to sell the old vehicles' parts, he wanted to preserve them. He kept collecting them, had to buy more land; he stopped counting when he had collected over 4000 rusting metal carcasses. People were stopping by to take a look or take pictures, so about 15 years ago Dean realized that the business could be better sustained as a museum charging admittance. I started walking on the grounds, passing more unusual items, rusting bicycles and tricycles.

Then I entered the trail, looking in awe at all the decaying cars covered with pine needles and creeping vines. Some cars had trees growing through their bumpers or windshields and even lifted them. Some cars were on top of each other, maybe as they had been delivered. After more than 80 years the cars had been taken over by nature, they were part of it. This is why the slogan here is "Nature, Art, History and Cars." It was an amazing sight, but very quiet, with just the birds chirping, and no one else around.

Stopping to take photos, walking, turning, I knew I was getting lost, but so what.

Along the way there were random unique hand-painted signs, with optional spelling.

It was in the high 70s (26 c) but under the pine canopy it felt cool. It was a forest, really, with some very large trees and a heavy carpet of pine straw on the ground and covering the cars.

Actually with all the pine straw it was hard to read the make of the cars. I like vintage cars but I am not an enthusiast and unless I can read it I can't distinguish between all the different brands and certainly can't tell the models or years. Maybe after a good rain, if the straw moved it would be easier to read. I kept stopping and snapping - I had brought my Nikon D5200 and my small Sony DSC-HX90V plus took some with my Iphone. There was an embarrassment of choices - where to point?

I read the oldest car there was a 1918 Buick, then a few from the 1920s, more from the 1930s and most vehicles from the 1940s to 1972. They included Packards, Desoto, Chevrolet, Studebakers, Hudsons, Fords, Edsels, Mercury, Buicks, Plymouths, Oldsmobiles, Dodges, Cadillacs, Chryslers, Pontiac, Lincoln, some buses, a 1941 Mack milk truck and a few foreign cars - I recognized some VWs. From a distance I thought I read "vagabond" on the back of a car. Getting closer, sure enough, it read "vagabond." I never knew such a model ever existed. Back at home I researched it. From 1946 to 1951 the Kaiser-Frazer Corporation made upper-medium price luxury automobiles; their Frazer Vagabond was a unique hatchback sedan. The Vagabond shown below (courtesy Wikipedia) has been restored to its prime glory. (I wish I could be restored...)

There certainly was a plethora of rustic relics from days gone by and I understood why another of the Old Car City's slogans was "Photographer's Paradise." How to select the best angle to snap these decomposing dream cars?

Some metal chairs were placed in some of the trails for a quick rest or meditation or reflection?

Then I saw it - a car I knew. Flying to France in 2008 I watched on the flight the movie "Gran Torino" starring Clint Eastwood with his prized muscle car, a 1972 Ford Torino. Here was a poor sweet green Torino resting under the Georgia pines.

It was already past 1:00 pm. I had been wandering in the forest among this chrome and rust cemetery for 2 1/2 hours. It was time to go back and cross the highway to the restaurant for lunch, but which way to get back? I kept going up and down trails, and they all looked alike. I did not reach the restaurant until close to 2:00 pm!

I understand that locals gather there for lunch and it gets quite busy, but by then there were just a couple of patrons. Wes-Man Restaurant is a typical rural southern restaurant. They open 6:00 am to 3:00 pm. Inside it looked cozy and tiny with license plates covering the wall along old newspapers, old high school annuals, etc. The lunch menu has a large selection of classic southern comfort food with burgers, salads, blue plates (meat and 3) and more.

There were bags of water hanging over the booths - to prevent flies they told me. I ordered the standard southern vegetable plate: fried okra, turnip greens, black eye peas, fried green tomatoes and corn bread. I'm pleased they served the vinegar pepper sauce for the greens, as they often don't in Tennessee. For dessert I had the blueberry cobbler. Everything was tasty especially the okra and fried green tomatoes.

Now that I had re-fueled my body I was ready to cross the road back to the forest of disintegrating relics. Close to the front of the lot the cars and trucks were parked on cement or gravel, not under pine trees. Many had moss and grime from all the decades they had been stationed there.

I wish I recognized some of those cars, like that long black one above. I did drive two vintage cars back in the days. My father, in the late 1940s, had bought a 1936 Simca-Fiat coupe, with stick shifts, for my mother so she would learn to drive. She always refused. The car spent years in storage in a French country warehouse until she gave it to me for my 18th birthday. I drove that old car all over Paris in the early 1960s and had so much fun. I also drove my boy-friend's 1939 Chevrolet coupe in Great Falls, Montana, a couple of times. The Chevrolet is in the bottom photo, below.

Walking back to the forest trails I passed some vehicles that were under shelter and some above the shelter's roof.

I kept on my little trek stopping here and there to snap hood ornaments, car remnants, ghosts of VW Beetles and vans, and crumbling school buses.

At 3:30 pm I was ready to head back as they close at 4:00 pm. Getting back to the main building I stopped by a collectible automobile in great shape. It was the maroon 1977 Lincoln Mark V Elvis Presley bought in 1977, just months before he died.

Later I read some negative comments about this unusual museum. Some said it was useless hoarding these pieces of junk. Other said the land would be better used in more money productive ways or that the owner Dean Lewis would profit more by selling the land than keeping that garbage around. I don't think Dean is interested in that. He says "I don't know what I would do if I couldn't get up every morning and look at old cars."

Since a little boy Dean had a passion for old cars. He was able to build a business around it and make a living. Eighty plus years later, Dean is still around his beloved old cars (he was born in 1937.) There is a lot to be said about this - life is not just measured in dollars. These vehicles had their day, their use and now can freeze in place and give pleasure to others. About 99% of them are unsalvageable. They have another use - a destination for families to walk in an uncommon forest. They are ideal as photo opportunities for professional photographers, ad agencies, media companies, videographers, photo clubs or just people like me who enjoy shooting unusual and unique pieces.

Another comment was: "A friend and I just traveled almost 1400 miles to photograph the incredible cars at Old Car City. We arrived at opening and stayed till closing for 3 days and didn't even come close to seeing/photographing it all!" There have been visitors from Sweden, Australia, New Zealand, China, Russia, Canada and the UK in addition to domestic visitors. I truly enjoyed getting lost in this one-of-a-kind forest and snapping these lovingly neglected car remains fading away under the Georgia sun.

Cloudland Canyon in Georgia

 More fall foliage ...

Last week, after my walk in Nashville Centennial Park, I was going to visit another park to catch more fall foliage.  Unfortunately it rained, then after a couple of blustery days, most of the leaves had blown off the trees.  My little Autumn Glory maple tree that was planted last year had colorful leaves but two days later they were all gone.

Not long ago I read an article saying that just looking at still photos of nature could lower stress levels.  A study in the Netherlands at the Vrije University Medical Center showed that by looking at images of nature for several minutes it had a calming effect on the brain.  A professor at the University of San Diego said "There are studies that show that looking at pleasant images can provide a type of mental escape for individuals during times of moderate stress."  Then I read that a small team in the Department of Psychology at Canada's University of Waterloo discovered that enjoying nature through virtual reality such as photographs "engages the parasympathetic nervous system which helps us relax, as opposed to the sympathetic nervous system - in charge of "fight or flight" responses and releasing adrenaline and cortisol."  Right now, with our stress related to the virus, politics, weather and more any calming effect is welcome.  I looked at my autumn photographs to find a pretty one.

 

While looking I found many photographs of Cloudland Canyon State Park that I had taken a couple of autumns ago.  As you may recall, while driving back from Atlanta to Nashville, I would stop in Trenton, a small Georgia town in the mountains where I would sell some of my books at a second-hand bookstore.  To get there I had to drive through the Chattahoochee National Forest in Georgia and then drive around several switchbacks and steep ascents, pass by Cloudland Canyon State Park then descend toward Trenton.  Cloudland Canyon is located in Rising Fawn, Georgia, on the western edge of Lookout Mountain.  It was named after the child of a Cherokee Indian chieftain.  The Cherokee Nation occupied the area then and their custom was to name their child after the first thing they saw.  So at dawn, the chief saw a fawn rise from its bed and thought that he hadn't seen anything more beautiful.  He gave the name Rising Fawn to his child.  After the land grab by the white settlers the Cherokees were banished from their ancestral land and sent to reservations provided by the US Government in Oklahoma.  Their route came to be called the Trail of Tears.

The village had several names until it finally was changed to Rising Fawn to honor the Cherokees.  It is located in the northwestern part of Georgia, close to Alabama and Tennessee.  Starting in 1939 the state of Georgia purchased parcel of lands close to Rising Fawn for a state park.  The Civilian Conservation Corps then worked on connecting highways to Cloudland Canyon State Park.

That November I left early for Trenton and decided to stop at the park.  Years before, in winter, my late husband and I had stayed there for a long weekend, but I had taken few photographs.  Armed with my Nikon and cell phone, I was going to take photographs this time.  GA Highway 136 to Cloudland Canyon is narrow with sheer drops down the mountain on one side, and it's a bit scary.  On the map below I placed a green cross where the state park is located, to the right of Trenton.  (Click on collage to enlarge.)

After parking my car it was just a few steps to the spectacular panorama.  With 3,488 acres, Cloudland Canyon State Park straddles a deep gorge cut in the mountain with elevation going from 800 to 1,980 feet.  It has cascading creeks, dense woodland, wild caves, sandstone cliffs, 1000 feet deep canyons and two stunning waterfalls tumbling over layers of sandstone and shale into pools below.  The views are breathtaking.

As mentioned above my late husband and I had stayed in one of their cottages.  Now they also have yurts and offer campsites for tents, trailers and RVs, as well as backcountry and pioneer campsites.  There are picnic areas and shelters, a gift shop, 16 miles of horseback riding trails, fishing, caving, canyon climbing, and more.  Below are a cottage interior and a yurt and yurt interior.

Near the information panel I could get a glimpse at one of the waterfalls.

I walked a bit to the side to get a better view.

The other side of the canyon was also quite scenic, but I did not want to get too close to the edge.

There are 64 miles of trails.  The popular trails are the Overlook Trail, the strenuous Waterfalls Trail and the moderate West Rim Loop Trail.  I walked toward the Overlook Trail.

At first the trail was paved and smooth.  Then it became rocky and lead to some stairs.  There were too many steps for me ...

I turned around and went to sit nearby for a little rest.

I had not the time or the energy to take the heart-pumping Waterfall Trail.  You have to climb down, and back, 600 stairs to the bottom of the canyon to see the two waterfalls, Cherokee Falls and Hemlock Falls. (Photo courtesy GA State Park site and Atlanta Trails.)

If you are adventurous, there is more to do in the area.  Close by is the Lookout Mountain Flight Park.  It is the largest and most popular hang gliding and paragliding school in the United States.  They state that each year the school teaches, certifies and solos five times as many pilots as any other school.  The hang gliders launch from 1,340-foot McCarthy's Bluff.  It is as small business owned by the same family since 1980.  (Photos courtesy LMFP.)

Thrill seekers can fly tandem 3000 feet over Lookout Mountain.  I'm sure the view must be gorgeous from that height.  Maybe my blogging friend and parachute jumper DJan would not think twice about hang gliding there?

But for now I'll pass, maybe later ...

Thanksgiving is coming up.  I wish you all a festive Thanksgiving with your family and/or friends, or just by yourself.  Stay safe.