TOP 3 REASONS why I love the little tiny town of Wartrace, Tennessee. Go.
1. The mayor of Wartrace, Tennessee, makes guitars for a living. Really really nice guitars. Like he ships them to Germany good. You can meet him on any given work day in "downtown" Wartrace right across from the red train car and the old Walking Horse Hotel. His name is Don.
2. Don sells the town's water to the George Dickel company. That sounded worse than it actually is. As mayor, Don helped work out the deal with the TN whiskey makers to buy their spring-fed water. It's a huge boost to the local economy. And besides making some fine guitars that Nashville adores, Don does whatever he can to help Wartrace thrive as a community. Even if you don't like whiskey, you gotta like a man who loves his town.
3. The name. Down the road is Bellbuckle, Tennessee. Further on, Bugsnuffle. Not lying. These little word gems bring a grin to my face. I read on the historical marker next to the red train car that the town got its name from Native Americans who fled to the area when Nashvillian settlers were fighting them for their property. So the running path cut right to where Don makes guitars and walking horses graze and the whiskey water flows. Their trace.
Keep reading...
Read More
Fans of storyteller-humorist Lauretta Hannon know her as the Cracker Queen. We’re calling her the funniest woman in Georgia. She published a new memoir this year and counts NPR’s All Things Considered a friend. Now, Lauretta’s traveling the South telling her tales about the best BLT she’s ever had, why women need to calm down, and how bugs can cure Georgia’s woes. And lucky for us, Lauretta's kindly sent us an excerpt. Read on.
Read MorePosted by: By
Annette Thompson, September 15, 2009 in Annette Thompson
, Green Travel
, Last-Minute Getaways
, Random Roaming
My first hike on the AT felt like I stepped into a perfect postcard. October’s blue skies served as a backdrop as I plodded up a steep trail through gold and russet leaves. I was walking up my first rugged mountain: North Carolina’s Standing Indian (5,498 feet) with a group of six friends, and we told stories and sang songs along the way.
The path unreeled ahead, a dusty rut, wide enough for two of us to walk abreast. Grasses with dots of yellow, red, and purple wildflowers swiped against our knees. Fingers of buttery light reached into the trees, lighting the forest floor.
When the trail turned sharply, I’d reach out for a nearby tree trunk, and felt smooth places on the bark, created by countless other hands. At the top, the view made all the sweating and climbing worthwhile.
The AT met my expectations for beauty that day. I went on to hike along much of the Southern half of the AT: in North Georgia, North Carolina to the Smokies and beyond, and even in Virginia and Maryland.
The trail drew me back not too long ago to join the Konnarock Crew—one of the volunteer groups that rebuild portions of the AT every summer (appalachiantrail.org for more info). We camped along Virginia’s Mount Rogers, spied wild ponies, munched wild blueberries, and dug into some back-breaking labor (without a shower for a week!).
The biggest surprise along the AT is how populated it can be It’s more like a friendly pedestrian highway on weekends where hikers stop to greet, to pet each other's dogs, and to chat about the route. In the evenings, the shelters and campgrounds fill with gabfests.
No matter how beautiful and awe-inspiring the AT can be, at the end of the day, journeys here are all about story making and storytelling.
Have you hiked along the AT? Where are your favorite places? Mine feel more like mental snapshots I took along the way (both of these come from the Smokies):
--Crossing a rushing stream in winter where rhododendrons the size of school buses hugged the banks in thickets, their glossy leaves curled up tightly like cigars.
-- Cool hillsides in summer’s midday with deer napping in the shade.
--A bear cub shimmying up a tree to hide (fun to see, but I knew momma bear had to be nearby too).
Read More
