Blakely, Georgia and More

Before we continue the camping adventure, I feel compelled to backtrack on something I was raving about in this space. Forgive my ignorance, if you will, about the detriments of using charcoal toothpaste. This morning while having my teeth cleaned, Karen asked if I had any concerns. "Not really but I do have sore spot on my upper gum that I see is a bit red." Looking at it carefully she pronounced it benign and went on with the business at hand. After the cleaning I mentioned that I was using a new toothpaste that I thought was fantastic. Her reaction was swift---"don't!" She went on to show me, yes show me pictures of a few people's mouths that were permanently stained at the gumline, among other problems. She echoed what I have since found in this article, should you be interested, please read for more information about this health "trend". 

Every camping trip I seem to come home with a piece of nature. Last trip an Ostrich egg, this trip some cotton I picked up along the road. 

For a good long while both sides of the road were lined with cotton that apparently escapes the bales it is transported in. Here's but one example of the many fields we saw planted in cotton during our journey.

According to this report from the University of Georgia, cotton was first grown in 1734, the first colony to do so. Lots of interesting facts in that report, but one that we have puzzled about is not. Where does the cotton go? China, for clothing? I spoke too soon, I have found information and it tells me that 80% of the cotton goes into the global market. There sure is a lot to learn about how things work isn't there? 

Now that our agricultural history lesson is over, let us proceed to even more learning, shall we?

After a restful night sleeping on the air mattress, we awoke to very gloomy skies. Not just gloomy, but drizzly as well, with everything feeling damp. Not horrible at this point, but certainly not what we were hoping for. I checked my phone, reading that it was meant to drizzle for the next hour. Okay, let's get on with breakfast under our canopy. Not five minutes later, rather than a steady drizzle, the heavens opened with a vengeance with rain coming down in sheets! Finally it quit, and with breakfast over and the dishes done, I discovered that I had only a few teabags left so instead of sitting around the wet campsite, we drove about six miles into the closest town, Blakely, GA. 

On our last trip to the area we drove through it on Hwy 27, but this time, after stopping at the local grocery store, we did some looking around, first coming across a very well kept Methodist church with lovely and numerous stained glass windows. Too large to fit in one photograph, I managed just the front.

Well kept is not really an adequate description, immaculate is more like it. Bruce thought there must be some folks in town with money to keep a church looking so good. Around back, real evidence of small town life celebrating a major industry in Blakely.

Peanut proud indeed. From what we've now learned, that has not always been the case. Not only did we learn that Blakely was the scene of a very high profile lynching (!), it was also the scene of the peanut factory that caused the largest ever food recall!!! Yet another article, (this one old) about the town following the catastrophe, describing how it affected most everyone. Although we rely on folks like these who live and work in small farming towns, most of the time we know very little about their struggles to provide our food. 

On our drive home I read glowing things about another peanut plant, located pretty much in downtown.

Think the peanuts in M & M candy. Here's a look at the processing side of things. 

As it was still drizzly, when I saw this restaurant featuring Southern favorites, I suggested we stop, parking alongside the old version of Blakely Chicken. A mural on the side of their little museum depicts the Kolomoki Indians who once lived in the area. 

The old version, sporting the sign below, remains, in rough shape, but that tin ceiling is pretty neat.

Not a fish lover, I'll admit I know nothing about what a Swai filet is, and a whole Mullet sounds not great either. On the other hand, I do love me some fried okra and wanted to taste some from the South, so we drove around the other side of the adjacent building to order takeout.

They definitely aren't kidding as it was as good as advertised. Why they haven't torn down the old building remains a mystery, but if you're in the area, it is indeed, finger licking good.

Back at the site we ate the goodies and even though it was gloomy Bruce went out to fish,

and I went exploring on my bicycle.

Following the bike ride, I took up my walking stick for a little trail that led to the other part of the park, the one I'd struggled to visit the previous afternoon due to the steep incline. Walking there was far easier and might I just say, prettier. 

A small section was the above boardwalk over some very shallow water but mostly it was wet forest. Do you know how when you watch a show on HGTV and they constantly talk about using various textures while decorating a home? That's because they are imitating nature where textures, various shades of the same color, and even sparkles abound.

How did I forget different shapes? Those too are to be found in abundance. 

While I cannot identify the green thing in the photo above, I sure can identify magic in the form of rain drops on a spider web. Oh my!

You could decorate a whole house using the above color palette! Texture alert, both rough and smooth  below.

As has been the case to date, I see more birds and butterflies here at home than I've seen while camping, so it was nice seeing this little one in the forest.

Looking back through the tons of photos I've included, I see that most of them are a bit dreary with not a hint of blue sky anywhere, but you take what God gives you while spending some days living in nature. 

Bruce's fishing trip was successful, we had stars, a good dinner and sleep. 

What more could we ask for? No rain, which was not what we got. 😔

your friend,

Gail

p.s. If you missed the first installment of this trip, here is the link.