Taking the Back Roads
I jumped out of bed a few Saturdays back to head up to North Georgia for a bluegrass festival. Jump out of bed might be stretching the truth some because it was after ten before I got out the door. I knew where I was going. Sort of. I’d been there before and it’s near a couple of rivers I paddle. There is, however, a difference between knowing and sort of knowing. You know you’re lost when you are headed to North Georgia and see signs for Traveler’s Rest, South Carolina . I doubled back to Toccoa and hit the back roads. It made sense at the time or maybe I just needed a break from the peddle to the metal urgency I’d been feeling. You can get really lost on the back roads. That’s why I like them. I like what I discover along the way. It helps that I know that I will eventually get where I need to be. First you must surrender any idea that you actually know where you are goi...