In my usual fashion, I awoke with the sun, actually, it was cloudy and I had a feeling that rain was going to be settling in later today. But that didn't bother me. I was packing up, silently, and was driving out the campground before 8:15.
The plans were to head west over to Red Top Mountain State Park on Lake Allatoona just north of Kennesaw. But talking to the camp host about the lake levels, he was saying that both Lake Allatoona and Lanier are at the lowest points they have ever been due to a 2-year drought in the area. It did not sound too appealing to me, besides, I had an inclination to get closer to home so my Friday drive would not be so long. So I changed my plans to head directly south on U.S. 441 and a see where that would take me.
I returned to the same diner for breakfast, just coffee and a single egg. From Clayton, 441 takes you around all the small towns it used to take you through. There is no town square visited anymore. Follow the sign for 441 and the road consistently by-passes all the towns - Clarksville, Demorest, Baldwin, Cornelia, Commerce, Athens, Madison, Eatonton, and Milledgeville. But not Dublin and not McRae, and the stretch between these 2 towns is pure central Georgia tree farming.
There were numerous signs along this route that mentioned the "Antebellum Trail" - the reference to a time prior to the Civil War. But one of the most interesting of signs in a particular stretch of 441 from Milledgeville to McRae was a constant suggestion that this was "Georgia's High Tech Corridor". Now, when I saw the first of these signs, I waited with anticipation of seeing some industrial park, research park, or state university along the way. But by the time I had run across a second one of these "declarations", I had seen nothing but tree farms and grass. This is a long stretch of Georgia between these 2 towns, and I never saw anything resembling any tech industry. The closes thing to high tech was an old AT&T microwave tower, but I could tell the transmitters were disconnected because the cables were missing from the tower's cones. There were some old way-side businesses that have long since withered and fallen in disrepair, many with the roofs caved in; and then an occasional healthy looking farmstead; but more often, mobile homes or poor folk houses; many even abandoned. In general, I saw no people, not a growing place-of-industry. That promise of a tech anything had not yet arrived on this corridor. It must be some hope or attempt to lure executives of Intel, HP or Google to consider building a satellite complex along this stretch of nothing-ness. Maybe this is where Eli Whitney was born or built his first cotton gin; thus, the declaration still remains.
Which leads me to the next campground for Wednesday night, Little Ocmulgee State Park, right on the outskirts of McRae Georgia. This state park had a beautiful golf course, a clubhouse, a fine lodge with a good restaurant, camping, and a lake front recreation area. The lakefront portion was an old building created in the 40's by the Civilian Conservation Corps, it looked over a 200-acre lake that was frozen as a platter of pudding. The lake was so choked with hydrilla weeds, that boating, swimming and possibly kayaking were not practical nor the least bit desirable. But the campground was satisfactory. After driving around a bit and reviewing the maps, I chose to stay.
It started to drizzle when I was putting the tent up. I took a walk along their nature trail that took you through woods that could have easily been in Orange County Florida, what with the type of trees and soil. Then I rode my bike around the miles of park roadway and on their ATB trail, where my thin tires continued to cut into the sand. After I got myself all cleaned up, using my last clean and best looking shirt and jeans, I went down to the restaurant where I ordered a burger with grilled mushrooms and Swiss cheese. It was delightful. The lodge and restaurant were really nice. Maybe this is the high tech start; get them executives out on the course with a few rounds of free golf and unlimited spirits at the restaurant and before you know it, promises are made; followed by an immediate call to the county sign makers which puts into motion the stenciling up a batch of "High Tech Corridor" signs, one for every 4 miles of U.S. 441. Keep the name Little Ocmulgee in the back of your mind - it might become synonymous with Palo Alto.
One of the most exciting times of the whole day (ok, it was a boring day) was the discovery of a stray dog that was hanging around the outside part of the restaurant. It was about a 25-pound scruffy looking dog with a cute face. The ladies at the cashier’s desk were talking about it, so I joined in the conversation to find out the dog had been hanging around for about 6 months. It must be doing pretty good on scraps from the restaurant and all the way down to the campground and the day-use area. I went outside to see if he would come to me, but he just ran off. Four feet was the closes he would allow. If he had come to me, I might have thought about bringing him home.
There was about 40 minutes of daylight left, so I drove into the town of McRae. This place is an ideal film set for a story of ultimate economic depression. Better might have those executives skip this part of the corridor. Interestingly, there is a sister town right next to McRae called Helena. It's like a micro Minneapolis - St. Paul, but only a score of city blocks separated the 2 towns. You know there must be some bad history behind all that. Helena was has about 1 block of brick buildings at the railroad crossing and every one of them were closed up, out of business. From the railroad crossing, you drive another 3000 feet west and you are at the very distinctive edge of town. Now I ask, why would an American corporation open a call-center in India when you could come to McRae and get real English speaking people that "I guess" would be happy to have a job, maybe. Then again, anyone with ambition has probably already left McRae.
Back in my tent, I called Pam. I was ready to come home.
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